Fuck me hey.
I’m writing this, hungover as fuck on the last day of 2017 with Micky D’s by my side. Fits naturally, right?
I don’t want to say that I didn’t like 2017. That it “wasn’t my year” or I’m “glad to see the ass end of it.”
It was a hard one, I won’t lie. I spent months upon months lost, confused, unsure where the fuck I was going in life. I started to find my way and then I found myself confused again.
I travelled with work and saw parts of Australia I hadn’t yet seen; only to quit my job and spend six weeks paying rent with my tax return. I moved house three times. I made the gruelling decision to head on back to Quangaz. I don’t think people realise that that in itself was a massive fucking move for me. I’d worked so hard on getting out because I thought it was home I needed to get away from; it took some time to realise that what I was running away from was in my mind.
I cried. A fucking lot. I fell into a deep sadness around my birthday and I got myself out of it, only to find myself back into it not that long ago.
I grew. A fucking lot. (Figuratively, I’m still the exact same body size). I have this really cool thing called a buttload of self-awareness, now, and I no longer blame people for me feeling shit. People hurt me, as people hurt everyone, but I have finally learnt to take responsibility for the way I react to it. I learnt that people who willingly hurt you only reflects sadly on themselves.
I slept. A fucking lot. Probably half of my year away.
But I laughed, too. And I cried happy tears. I met really cool people and I shared my life with some new ones; I started to learn to trust again. I began a cool little business and people actually buy things from it.
And I wrote. I wrote and wrote and so many words have poured out of my soul, and I finally know where I want to be in life. It tastes so bloody good.
2016 was my best year yet; it was fun, I travelled, moved, met incredible people who I still cherish to this day, but I look back at 2017, now, and I think this year was the year where I just went… fuck yes. I am in love with who I am as a human and what I’m here to be.
I don’t have one single regret stepping out of 2017. I’m so fucking happy and I’m about to cry because I’m a hungover, emotional piece of shit but I’m glad to say they’re tears of joy, tears of contentedness, because life tastes so sweet.
Be fearless in the pursuit of things that don’t make you feel like shit. – Racquel Helmers, 2k17
Happy 2018 my bitches; I hope you surround yourself with the right people this coming year. And if you come across the wrong ones, I hope you have the strength to walk away.
24 year old writer, just trying to find her way through the world through words and funny anecdotes.