Dear 2023...

With 2024 just around the corner, it's time for me to review my 2023.

This year I decided to do so with a letter.

So here goes nothing.

Dearest 2023,

Remember that fortune cookie I devoured on New Year's Eve? The one that promised "unprecedented joy and boundless prosperity"? Yeah, about that... Let's just say fate had other plans.

You were a labyrinth filled with twists and turns: you were somehow both fun and boring, hard but sometimes smooth, undeniably unpredictable, and most certainly a lesson.

I was hyped for you and all the things I would be achieving, all the fun I would be having, all the connections I would be making, all the lessons I would be learning. I yearned for you, picturing a transformed me basking in your glow. You know what they say: new year, new me, right?

My map to the future was meticulously drawn, but instead of waltzing through a year of rainbows and champagne fountains, I tangoed with disaster, hand in messy hand. You kept throwing surprises at me like a seasoned card shark, and you definitely dealt me some wild cards this year. You tested me in all possible aspects and put me through the wringer. Remember that time I lost my bag, my wallet, and my dignity all in a 24-hour period? You laughed, didn't you?

But beneath all the existential dread, you snuck in some pretty epic moments too. You gifted me many firsts, some good, some not so much. No grudges held though, because you revealed facets of myself and others I had conveniently shoved in a closet. You slapped me with a healthy dose of self-awareness.

You showed me that avoiding awkward silences is vastly overrated, that some friendships, like overripe bananas, simply don't last, that nothing comes easily, and that seeking help isn't a sign of weakness. You opened my eyes to the difference between dreaming and doing. You made sure I slowed down and appreciated the small joys: the sunshine on my face, the wind in my hair, a breathtaking view, a colorful sunset, a stranger's smile, even a friendly stray cat. You taught me to appreciate more of what life has to offer: good music, good books, good food, good refreshments, and good company. You made it clear that perfection is a myth, vulnerability is strength, and sometimes the best way to find your way is to get lost and stumble upon something amazing along the way.

I learned that I may not always be right (shocker!), no matter how much I wish I was, that pushing people away may not be the best solution, and that showing up for myself is the

best thing I could be doing.

You were witness to the first time that I realized I had a shocking affinity for filtered coffee and that I am quite bossy. Life-changing epiphanies, wouldn't you agree?

Most importantly, TwentiesUnfiltered finally came to life this year, even though the seed of the idea had been planted long ago. It only means that you are special in one way or another.

So yeah, 2023, you weren't exactly the picture of perfect serenity I envisioned. You were messy, unpredictable, and sometimes downright cruel. But hey, you also made me laugh until I cried, pushed me to my limits, and showed me the beauty of embracing the chaos. You were the year I stumbled, fell, and somehow, magically, learned to fly.

For all the ups and downs, thank you. Thank you for the happy moments and the sad ones. Thank you for the good experiences and the bad ones. Thank you for the easy lessons and the hard ones. Thank you for accepting the angel side of me and the psycho one too.

I will remember you as the year when I made mistakes, made memories, and confronted life harder. I will remember you as the year I kept standing.

Finally, I guess I am a new version of myself compared to the 2022 version. Maybe not in the way I had imagined, but I am not complaining. As a matter of fact, I learned to love it, every bit of it, even through the times when I questioned my sanity... Cheers to that!

Sincerely (and slightly traumatized),

Yasmine :)

PS: If anyone asks about you, I'll just say, "Oh, you know, same old, same old." Don't take it personally, it's the same answer every year gets.