Hello, HI! Um. This is awkward.
Itâs me, ABCD. It has been quite long since the last time I sat down to write a long-ish piece of writing. Looking back at 2017, I can barely recognize myself, you know? And maybe thatâs why I feel so weird writing about this right now. About four hours from now, it will be a new year. I remember sitting down at the upper left side of my bed in front of my side table where my laptop is and this is exactly how I also find myself right now. Same place, same hope, same me, but when I think of the girl last year, the barely smiling, very desperate ABCD, I see so much difference.
I wasnât even supposed to continue with this until I saw a post yesterday saying that 2018 was such a sad year and I didnât get it. I think this was because the past year has teared me down more than any other time in my life, and that made this year a lot more bearable in comparison.
Fifteen-year-old me didnât understand the concept of no; she misinterpreted self-love and appreciation as selfishness; she was easily swayed by other peopleâs words; she yearned for hope and happiness in vain, she was miserable. God, she was. She was sleeping at ass-crack of dawn; always late for her 7 a.m. class; by  9 a.m. she would have already spent her money to buy snacks at the early part of the year; but when people started telling her she was getting fat, she skipped meals and tried to exercise to get rid of the excessive pounds people see on her (keyword: tried); she was almost always out of class to join all sorts of contests, seminars and whatever the hell people told her to join; she constantly exhausted herself, she didnât know what for, who for. Slowly, I became a shell of myself âa house for emotions, while the real me rots away.
However, with the tiny bit of hope left in me, this very same day, last year, I took a scrap piece of paper and wrote âHappiness and Luck, please come in,â and I stuck in on my bedroom door. My older brother saw it, laughed at me because he taught it was ridiculous, but guess what, it worked exactly like an enchanted paper talisman would.
Which leads me to now, same slouched over form, but different, much, much different. A year has passed but I feel like I have grown so much, experienced so much and I can finally sit down to share them. So here are the things that this almost ending year has taught me:
   First,   Nothing is impossible [ well, unless it defies the laws of physics and thermodynamics and other smart people stuff.] Your desire and aspirations are powerful, and as long as you want it bad enough and you work for it hard enough, the universe, and whatever divine being you believe in will give it to you.
It is called the law of attraction and it is fueled by the power of gratitude for what you already have. I made a dream board this year and I pinned my wants and goals on it. Every time I achieve any, Iâll put them in my âI DID ITâ box and I smile and take a moment to be thankful for it.
Another thing to prove that nothing is impossible is the fact that I was stranded on top of a mountain for more than 24 hours and almost got hit by a truck within the same day, and yet Iâm still here writing this. If that doesnât make you believe me, then I donât know what will.
  Second,  Feeling feelings is not illegal. I am guilty of thinking it was ever since I was a child. I hate affection, I hate it when people force it on me, I hated when people get too close and vulnerable. I locked myself away, then I would get angry at people when they donât understand, which is outright stupid. Because I wasnât telling them, so how would they know? Because I, myself, refused to acknowledge that I was down, so how would I know? I felt so alone but I was doing it to myself. And isnât it unsettling that we all still feel a little bit lonely despite there having 7 billion other people in the world?
The silly thing is, I realized how some people talked to me about how they are feeling, that they are willing to open themselves up for me to dissect their situations, how they trust me enough to show a side that is not easy to face and they have taught me that it is okay to be vulnerable, to ask for help when you need it, to ask for someone to listen when things arenât making sense. I became a much more open person about how Iâm feeling, what went on about my day, my fears, my dreams and everything in between. I found them on a random April night till the wee hours of dawn, in a close-to-empty room on a windy 3rd floor, on a bird app filled with opinions Iâd rather not hear, and in 7 singing, dancing, amazing living beings that became my light in the dark. They taught me to be thankful, to be kind, to be honest, to be fearless, to be more than what I already am, and if the only price I have to pay is to feel the entirety of my emotions, then I consider that a great deal.
  Third,   There is a strength in letting go. Before I truly move on, and learn how to fly, I had to let go of the things that were weighing me down. Just like an old favorite toy that is so hard to leave behind, we grow out of things, and we just have to let them go. I thought I was doing so well making people proud by joining so much activities and excelling in them when I was letting myself, my well-being go. I felt a part of me slip away, so I held on to what people were telling me to hold on to.
But to find myself again, I had to dig deep and I canât hold on to my shovel when Iâm busy holding on to the things that were keeping me from doing that. So, I focused on myself and what makes me happy, if something doesnât benefit me and the greater good then I must walk away from it, as long as I donât hurt anyone. Because strength isnât what makes you strong. They say you are strong when you are enduring, but there is strength in letting go, sometimes far more than when you are trying so hard to carry something that you canât anymore. It takes courage to realize that you must work on yourself first, after then can you explore greater.
  Last, happiness is not a hermit, it can coexist with sadness. You canât always surround yourself with happiness and you canât always repel sadness. You canât only accept embraces from joy and avoid sorrow, because that would be like, I donât know, emotional discrimination or something. This year has been a year of healing for me, to take a breath from the grueling times of 2017. It is a year where I was able to see the beauty in the coexistence of happiness and sorrow, how everything has a bright side, a silver lining if you will, Ms. Catriona. How a death of a loved one means loss of a life, but also a celebration of a life well-lived, or the end of physical suffering. How crying can mean a plethora of emotions, but also a soul cleansing, a means of moving on. How goodbyes are a preamble to new hellos.
Hours ago, I had a splitting headache. Bad news. Itâs raining so no fireworks I guess. Bad news. I still havenât started my introduction to my research that was supposed to be passed last week. Bad news. But I canât stop smiling. Despite what I went through, Iâm happy, without a particular reason why. And I guess thatâs the biggest indicator that I have changed because the ABCD now is happy, a thing that the past me wouldâve never imagined. But, around here however, we donât look backwards very long, as Walt Disney once said. We must keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things. To the past year that has shaped me into who I am now, thank you. To the people that have been with me, thank you. To myself, who is still here, a little bit changed, but still me, thank you. I hope I get to think of you next year, at the upper left side of my bed, in front of my laptop, on New Yearâs Eve, and I hope to tell you another great story.
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Happy New Year everyone, I hope you achieve your dreams, gain prosperity and do the things you always wanted to do.
Thanks for reading this 1,538-word-long letter.
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Love you.
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Okay, that was awkward.
