I have never been the type to designate one year or another as my best ever, but that changes now. I am positively confident that 2017, as painful of a year it was, is the best year of my life.
2017 was the year of excruciating pain; the year I lost a “brother”, my “mother” and my “farther”; the year I finally realized that I have never been loved; the year I was angriest, saddest and most confused; and the year I became emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted. It was the year I became fed up, the year I decided I couldn’t go on living the way I have, and the year I died.
Yes, through sheer betrayal, disrespect, cruelty and abuse — perpetrated on me by both myself and by those who I thought cared about me — over the span of over three decades and the heartbreaking and soul-killing pain that they brought, I died.
And things couldn’t have been any other way because 2017 was the year I finally sat down to understand who I truly am — my personality, desires, insecurities and fears — and what I truly wanted in life, the year I began work on myself, the year I realized the essence of my being; the year I got in touch with my highest self; the year I relinquished control over everything.
I discovered that I am a highly-sensitive empath, explaining the incessant confusion and heartache that has defined every day of my life; set my first boundaries; wrote down my goals and desires; started work on eliminating my vast sea of self-imposed limiting beliefs; and made it a lifelong goal to love myself more than anything or anyone in this harsh yet beautiful universe.
It was the year I consciously began asking questions about my perplexing circumstances, and the year I started listening to the answers I was receiving. The year I finally understood the error of my ways and asked for forgiveness.
2017 was the year I started to take my health seriously and the year I tried veganism, which lead to the discovery of a natural cure for my insomnia. It also happened to be the year I became educated on the workings of the female mind, notably hypergamy, and on the man-trampling gynocentric world that we live in. It was the year the red pill was forced down my throat.
In this eye-opening year, everything wrong in my life coalesced into one large, ugly blob so that their impact could be assessed, analysed and understood as a first step to begin doing the necessary self-work. It was the year I decided to forgive and let go of all those who have harmed me — those who add no value to my life — and begin unapologetically living life by my own terms.
2017 was the year my senses awoke and the world became vivid. It was the year I truly beheld the beauty and misery of this world.
2017 was the year of my death and rebirth! My resurgence!
I like the new me, and I look forward to what I can now do.