Dear 2015,
Wow, dude. You gave me a hell of a ride. I got accepted into and enrolled in my top-choice college. I had a crazy person living in my house for four months, three of which were in 2015. I kicked said crazy person out of my house. Later, said crazy person wrote a letter apologizing for being crazy and I sort of forgave her. We SnapChat occasionally. I stopped giving a fuck about people at school, told three boys I had crushes on them (and third in October of 2014), one of whom became my first date, my first hand-hold, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, and my first breakup. All within the span of like two and a half weeks. I still miss that boy and I am still convinced he will come back into my life in 2016.
I graduated from high school. Which was a total mindfuck. I seriously doubted many times over four years that I would ever graduate. High school felt like a black hole which had sucked me in and would never spit me out. My high school experience was the real-life equivalent of a mental health/anti-bullying video you watch in health class or a bad TV show for ten year olds where everyone laughs at the awkward, shy girl and has no idea she cuts herself when she goes home.
And then I graduated. Like some mother fucking miracle, I wore a cap and gown and walked across the “stage” in the gym and received my diploma and my grandparents and brother and best friend were all there.
I started school at Simmons College, where I am so ridiculously happy and the only really bad thing that has happened is getting dumped by the boy I am still convinced is the love of my life. Sorry, logic. You don’t live here.
At Simmons I found some of the most wonderful people I have ever met. I found Olivia, who had to leave the college but will never leave my life as hard as she might try. Olivia’s purpose in my life was to find for me the girls who are now my best friends, my people, my friend-soul-mates, my future flat-mates, my support system and constant companions. Dylan, Karin, and Caroline (and I’m sure we’ll find some more.)
At Simmons College I learned how to have casual acquaintances, which is not a skill I was ever able to have before. I learned that I am, in fact, capable of advocating for myself and I am actually the strongest motherfucking bitch in the whole wide world. I learned that the opinion of the masses matters not at all and if they have a problem with me being late because I had a panic attack that morning they can suck my dick because they don’t know shit. I walked into classrooms twenty, thirty, forty minutes late with my head held high because I am a QUEEN and I OWN this bitch.
When I came home for Columbus Day, and Thanksgiving, and now winter break, I realized I am ready to move out. I am independent and the fear that I would never survive without my parents was unfounded.
2015 also brought a diagnosis of ulcerative colitis, a disease I will live with for my whole life and might take my colon eventually. 2015 brought my first colonoscopy and way more experience with rectal bleeding and suppositories than I care to admit.
And, I can’t believe I almost forgot this, 2015 brought something I never thought I’d receive: an apology from my brother. An apology for years of abuse and hatred, for fucking me up and screwing with my perception of boys as idols I will always need the approval of. This year, my big brother gave me his approval and with that I will never need the approval of anyone else. After years of being told I will never be cool enough, I proved that snot-faced 9-year-old brother wrong. My brother hugged me for the first time in at least ten years, and healed a part of my heart that I had given up hope on.
In short, 2015, I kicked your ass. I mean, you kicked me pretty hard but I kicked right back. I am so grateful for you, 2015. All the shit you threw at me and all the beautiful things you gave me, they taught me so much about myself. You taught me that I am excitable and enthusiastic about everything, that when I love, I love with everything I have. I am a NASA-trained space cadet but I’m also wicked, wicked smart. You taught me that I have the world’s cutest little bubble butt. You took off the shell I’ve worn for so many years and you burned that piece of shit. I am loud. I am obnoxious. I am oblivious. I am loving. I am lovable. I am smart. I am strong.
Thanks for the memories, 2015. I will never forget you: the best year of my life (so far.)
Love and hugs,
Sharon
