I've been trying to think of a way to do justice in tribute to 2014. It was probably the most positive full year I've had in my adult life, so I want to reflect that.
It wasn't the year that everything was perfect. It wasn't the year that I never cried. It wasn't the year that I just "finally got over everything." It wasn't the year that everyone liked me.
It was the year that I figured out how to stand on my own feet again, maybe not straight and tall, but on the ground. It was the year that I decided I'm worth it, and I can (and am going to be) okay. It was the year that I started to see that it's okay to cry, to hurt, to not be over it yet, to ask someone to be there for me without being rejected or insulted. It was the year that I started to give less of a shit what everyone thinks of me. It was the year I started to understand what "love" truly means. It was the year I started to fall in love with myself.
It was the first year, in maybe ever, that I could confidently call "my year."
