Two years on this day…
I wasn’t sure whether to post today or not. I’ve been feeling emotional already the last couple of days but today was harder than normal.
But today is not about what happened that day. You can see my previous posts here. Today is about reflecting on what I learned and how I changed over the last two years.
For the last few days I’ve been contemplating about my life so far and what it’ll be better to do next. I’m craving change and I know for sure I want a new job, but should I move to another city? Another country? Another continent?
Change is scary, even when you desperately want it. I’m scared I might make the wrong choices. And I’m even more scared but also relieved it’s just me I need to think about.
I sometimes fall into this hole, comparing myself to others at my age who achieved much more, they travelled more, they’ve done more, they have a better job, more money and so on.
I loved my Uni years and I wouldn’t change those for anything, but I feel I wasted the rest of my 20s paralysed by insecurities and fears, stuck in an unhealthy relationship that left me with confidence issues. I can’t change my past, so there is no point thinking like that whatsoever, but sometimes I can’t help it.
What shook me to the core was my aunt’s death. That was my wake-up call. That reminded me how short life is and how unhappy I was with my then life.
Two years later, I sometimes I feel I haven’t achieved much (the annoying inner voice taking over) but then I take a second and think of what I have achieved so far, how I managed to finally travel more, Edinburgh, Berlin, Rome, Florence, how I now go home at least twice a year, which is essential for my mental wellbeing, how I became a godmother to my gorgeous Prince, how I learned to live on my own, the first time I almost burnt the whole place down because I forgot the pot on the hob for too long and the water evaporated, the first time I forgot to lock the doors, the first time I had to fix the car on my own, the first time I sold a car (God I miss my Indigo), the first time I had so little money left I could only afford food…, the first time I could afford a proper holiday, the first time I posted a blog, the first time I posted a video of me singing badly to Kodaline, the first time I went to the cinema on my own to watch a Louis Theroux documentary, the first time I finally opened up about my struggles and depression and many many more firsts…
Although I go through a confidence crisis every now and then, sometimes triggered by the smallest thing (I know is silly but that’s how the brain f***s you up, cognitive distortions), I’m very proud of how far I’ve come and if anyone thinks less of me then that’s their problem. Rejection is not easy to digest but as with everything, you learn how to cope and overcome it.
I go through my older posts from time to time and I can see how my writing and I as a person matured since I started this blog.
I’d probably be stuck in a horribly boring and miserable life if it wasn’t for my loving, selfless, brave, sweet, incredibly intelligent, kind aunt and her horrible but noble fight until the very end.
Reading her eulogy at her funeral in front of a church full of people who knew and loved her is the hardest thing I ever had to do in my entire life but also one of the most proud moments of my life so far.
One of the many gems I kept from the incredible Derren Brown’s book Happy was that a person really dies when the last person who remembers them dies too. What a sweet, beautiful notion.
We all love her and she will always live through us. Through her children, her grandchildren, her brother and sisters, her dad, my dearest pappou and all of us.
I’m overwhelmingly proud of my cousin Georgia, my aunt’s daughter, and her seven children and all of the family on how amazingly they did the last two years. We’ve been through a lot as a family but we are closer than ever. I love you all to the moon and back.
I’m always amazed by how we humans cope and bounce back from whatever life throws at us.
I’ve learned from my past and thanks to my aunt I’ve made my present and hopefully my future much better.
So here’s to the present and the future. May be better and brighter, full of laughter and incredible moments.
Rest in peace dear aunt Anna.