Celebrate the Worst Year Ever
I opened my Facebook memories and saw that last year I posted a meme that said, “You know what 2019 had? The audacity.”
If only we had known how easy we had it back in the olden days of 2019.
This time last year, we weren’t suspecting a deadly pandemic. We didn’t own cutely patterned masks to coordinate with our outfits. We had hardly even begun stressing about the election. We had RBG and John Lewis. We had parties and indoor dining. This time last year, I couldn’t wait for 2020. Now? I’m tempted not to celebrate, not to put any momentum behind a new year. But I’m resisting that temptation.
Was 2020 a total dumpster fire?
Should you celebrate it anyway?
Because you endured it.
You endured loss and rage and confusion and sickness and pain, and we’re coming out the other side. You’ve been stretched. You’ve learned how adaptable humanity can be. You’ve grown in ways you weren’t expecting. Have we witnessed deep pain this year? Yes. But we’ve also been touched by incredible unity. Shadows of hope inspire us to keep peeking around the corner, anticipating tomorrows to come.
Just like at the tail-end of 2019 we never could have suspected how much bad was coming, maybe this time next year you’ll be shocked at how much unexpected good has come. Who knows? If 2020 taught us anything, it’s that the answer to that question is, “absolutely no one.”
This year has been brutal. Let yourself feel pride in having endured it. Even if you were too depressed to get out of bed most days. Even if you didn’t meet any of your goals. Even if you lost your job. Even if you feel alone. You kept going. That deserves celebration.
So, throw yourself a socially-distanced party for one and make a toast to surviving 2020. Thank this year for showing you just how strong you are.