2022 has been a really hard year for me; in many respects, the hardest year I’ve ever experienced. Tiger the cat died in January. My partner was angry and unhappy for much of the year and on my birthday her blow up ended the relationship. JT graduated college - a moment of enormous pride and joy for me - but he struggled with the meaning and purpose of his life in the aftermath. It made for the most challenging parenting I’ve ever experienced.
The year closes better than it started and given this storm of a year, that’s no small matter. I wrap up 2022 aged 55 and single, a status I still find surprising to contemplate. I am not lonely on my own, though I’m a little scared of growing old by myself and being a burden on JT. I wonder why I never found someone to love me for the long haul. In my darker moments, that makes me believe that there is something wrong with me. I know that down that path lies despair. Mostly, I avoid going there.
Instead, I square my chin, make a list of the things for which I am grateful, and dismiss my self-doubts. I remind myself that I am kind and funny; loyal and true. I consult my affirmations and repeat that I am amazing, smart, and worthy. Stylish and charming. Beautiful. Loved. I’ve got a whole list of happy adjectives to repeat to myself as a reminder of the things I have going for me. I know and recognize that truth.
I always say that I live in hope and though much of 2022 felt like I was grasping for that hope in the midst of inky darkness, the year ends better than it began. That’s hopeful and happy. Here’s to 2023, with its new beginnings and living in hope.
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