Dear 2022 | A Letter of Reflection

“A woman unlearning is the most powerful kind.” - Rebecca Woolf, All of This

Dear 2022,

It’s hard to believe that our time is done and that in a few short hours, I’ll be crossing over the threshold into a new year. But first, before we say goodbye, it’s only right to look back on your chapter and all the notes that I’ve scribbled in your margins. It’s necessary to reflect on what you’ve meant, the lessons you’ve taught me, and the memories that I’ll be carrying forward into the future.

You were the year that I was forced to take a closer look at my history of trauma and work on how it affects me and my relationships. It’s been years since I was last in therapy, but I’ve pulled from many of the things that I learned all those years ago and have used them to help me cope. You were the year that I finally started putting my needs first, as selfish as it sounds, and realized that I am not, in fact, only thinking about myself when doing so. It’s hard to care for others when your own emotional and physical batteries are low. So, I’m going into the new year focusing on keeping my own energy stores full in order to take better care of those I love.

You were the year in which I found out about my father’s metastatic cancer, at a time when my family has never felt more distant. Fourteen years ago, my brother died and it tied the relationship between my other seven siblings and me much tighter. Since then, though, we’ve drifted apart. Slowly, at first, but when everyone started finding their partners and having families and moving on with their lives, they forgot about the bond that we had, about their first friends. I suppose all families do that over time. I often catch myself yearning for the days in the past when I could send a text and have the family gather for a meal the following weekend. But maybe it is time to let go of that hope and look to the family that I’ve created, the one that I’ve chosen. The one who has chosen me back.

You were the year of finally setting some personal boundaries to protect my energy. I’ve always been a people-pleaser, so saying “no” has been very difficult for me. But you became the year I not only said it, but didn’t feel that I needed to make excuses or justify that little word. Throughout my life, I was told that having a “yes” attitude would make me more professional, keep more friends, and ultimately, bring me more happiness. But what I really wanted was less of anything that wasn’t bringing me joy or fulfillment, and I’m glad I stood by my principles and protected my health and wellness.

You were the year of creating new traditions, of letting go of what was done when I was a child because it was the right way to do it, and the weight of others’ rules has finally been lifted off my back. This looked like skipping family holidays in favor of traveling with my partner or spending a day in the mountains on the biggest shopping weekend of the year. I enjoyed more quiet and solitude and was able to better learn about myself in the process.

You were the year of getting out and appreciating nature more than the touristy pins on the map. During our trip to the Pacific Northwest, Frank and I journeyed to see waterfalls and volcanoes, getting in touch with the beautiful planet we live on instead of perpetuating the tourist trap cycle. We spent less time scrolling and more time together, and our relationship has only grown stronger.

You were the year of coming to grips with my health, thanks to a new doctor. Living with a chronic illness has been scary and, oftentimes, a pain in the ass. Even while being treated therapeutically, I still had more bad days than good, but my physician helped me understand that I could (and should) pull back on what I expect my body to do in one day. I might still be a bit in denial about being sick and try to push an eight-hour workday on myself, along with a full life at home. But I have to go back to the spoons theory and remember that I have limited energy to give, and not to waste it on trivial projects. I have a whole lot of work to do in the self-acceptance and self-love category, but there will be more on that to come. For now, I’m trying to live the best life possible.

2022, you were hard, but I needed a reason to feel strong. Thanks to you, I do.

Peace out,

Lecy