I’ve been staring at this comment for days, “What has made you change so much this year?” wondering whether the change has been for better or worse.
It forced me to introspect, to flip through all the chapters my scent has graced this year. And in all honesty, I can’t begin to explain the plot twists I’ve encountered.
The first quarter was beautiful, a season of light. It was punctuated by trips, personal growth, poetry, and family get-togethers. Simply, all the things that make life feel full. But the second quarter, oh, I didn’t expect it to stain my life that badly! I still feel the exquisite ache of April every time I think about it.
Grief had me in a chokehold. I mourned people, opportunities, and versions of myself I didn’t expect to lose. I remember aching for me, but even more for my family and friends, with whom we shared grief. It was a blow! I won’t lie. Picking up from that has been an uphill task.
One thing I’ve learned is that life keeps moving. It refuses to slow down or grant you the privilege to digest the chaos around you. So maybe, just maybe, a part of me got lost in the third quarter trying to understand what had happened while still pretending that nothing had.
And yet, through it all, I have gracefully held myself. I’ve allowed myself to cry about this year, while learning to grab the joyous moments along the way.
So yes, I may have changed, but I still show up.
Sometimes with bleeding leaks, or with fresh bandages.
Other times, overflowing with hope and genuine laughter.
And on some days, I choose selective amnesia just to allow myself to enjoy the good moments.
I appreciate the gift of support systems, the genuine love that has kept me afloat. As I await the final plot-twist of the year, I pray that I will retain me, the me that dares to stand through and appreciate all seasons. Finally, they say change is inevitable.
Wanja.