I'd like to believe that for every annus horribilis, the universe compensates an annus mirabilis as some sort of cosmic apology for the crap it put you through. Although I can't say that my 25th year was perfectly close to the latter, it was definitely the opposite of my 23rd and 24th; and by far, the most productive and successful one I've had in years.
Last year, on this very same day, I made a promise that I'll work on the best, possible version of myself without blowing things out of proportion. Looking back, I never thought I could transform myself from a silent slob of grief into someone who could score achievements that felt too far-fetched for a goner. For one, call it an irony or whatnot, as someone who considers herself academically burned out, the scholarship grant for my masters degree from a prestigious European school was a massive kickstarter to pick myself up and do girlboss shit like I used to.
To say that everything went smoothly to get where I am right now irons out the mishaps in between; and though I hate glossing adversity for the sake of an inspirational take, nothing beats the sweet taste of victory after going through rough bumps and hard curves on your way up, with people who constantly keep you anchored --- in my case: my sisters, my very, very small circle of friends, and that little faith I had for myself --- in that once little dreamer who had dreams bigger than the sky.
Now that I've just turned 26, there's nothing more than I could ask for but stability (and more books from the publishing companies I've been collaborating with!); and most importantly, that I finish my thesis proposal and 3 case studies in the course of 8 weeks.
So here's to another year of vigilante shit (and mental breakdowns? and writing fanfics?? haha) 🥂
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