Sitting here at the end of 2023, I cannot help but look back at the last 12 months and just want to curl up into a ball on my bed for a good long while. Nothing in my life looks like I expected it would 12 months ago. Nothing. There has been so much heartache and heartbreak. So much pain. So much isolation. So much. So much. So much. I’ve tried to write about what this year has done to me – how I’ve been destroyed and built back up – in prose, in poetry – but the words have all somehow been both too much and not enough.
Too much pain.
Not enough transparency.
Too much hope.
Not enough acknowledgement.
Too much sadness.
Not enough laughter.
Too much solitude.
Not enough community.
Too much hurt.
Not enough seeing.
Too much fear.
Not enough peace.
Too many tears.
Not enough remorse.
Too many broken dreams.
Not enough strength to believe.
Too much me.
Not enough me.
There is so much I want to say and share, but also so much of it is so very private that it is so hard to manage the information. I want to respect everyone in my life and in my circle and not say too much. At the same time, I don’t want to hide the reality of the last year – that doesn’t seem fair to my own healing. And if you know me at all, you know I am bad at taking care of myself and putting my needs/what makes me feel healthiest anywhere in the top 10 of things I consider.
So yes, 2023 tried to break me. And in many ways it did. It broke me into a million pieces that I didn’t even recognize anymore. It broke relationships. It broke my connections with so many. It broke my faith in some ways. It broke my stability and my security. It broke my joy.
But 2023 also pieced me back together. I’m a different person now than I was 12 months ago. Heck, I’m a different person now than I was 6 months ago. I am braver now. I am stronger. I know myself better. I am speaking my truth more. I am standing up for the things I believe in more. I am somehow more emotional, but that also feels like a success in some ways. My pieces, I choose to believe, are being held together much like Japanese pottery, with a beautiful new addition that is making my story stronger in the end. There is more beauty coming than I thought possible. There are new chapters to be written and new stories to tell. There are new adventures and new paths and new air to breathe in. At least I sure hope so.
I won’t be sad to see 2023 end. I’m grateful for all I’ve learned. I’m hopeful for what’s to come. But closing this volume of my life story will be welcome in many ways.