This year has shown me that perfection is an illusion and that there is beauty in imperfection. It has shown me that the more you pursue perfectionism, the more critical of yourself you become. All along, you needed tenderness, love, and grace. And when you eventually get a taste of such gentleness, you wouldn't want to do life any other way.
Jesus came to save us because we couldn't do it ourselves. He doesn't want a perfect version of you. He wants the real you. He loves that you: the you that has nothing figured out, that struggles, that carries so much trauma, that is still hurting from something that happened years ago. Not the you that you pretend to be. He sees the real you and He says, "come anyway." He sees all the ways your heart has been broken and says, "I can put it back together if you'd let me." He sees your mental health deteriorating by circumstances beyond your control and says, "I can restore that too."
This year was one of my worst years if I chose to focus on everything in it that kept tossing me around. Nonetheless, I'd say it was a beautiful year. This year, I grew in love, grace, and compassion for myself. I dealt with some childhood traumas and found my inner child who had been buried underneath painful experiences. I found peace, joy and freedom, and most importantly, I experienced God's tender love for me.
It was a beautiful and colourful year because, all along, there were little ways I got through the difficult days. Several little things helped. These include ㅡ to name a few ㅡ music, the presence of people, creativity, prayer, movies, colours, nature, reading, and spending time with God.
Music was a tangible resource that comforted, inspired and stirred up hope within me. It made me believe in the possibility of brighter days, giving me the zeal I needed to keep holding on. Despite the countless times I didn't feel like talking to God, prayer helped too. Spending time with God gave me hope that He was near, sitting close enough to listen to my every word. Also, creativity, no matter how little, made me feel alive and as though I mattered. A little dancing improved my mood and impacted my day, a little note of affirmation ㅡ whether it was one I wrote myself or one I got ㅡ made my day, and dressing up in colourful clothes every morning, despite how little it seemed, was something I looked forward to and believed improved my mental health. Other colourful things like objects, decor, duvets, paintings, sticky notes, index cards, meals, my hair, and anything that had a bright colour helped me mentally too. These things helped me notice that this world still has some beauty.
When I had a bad day or felt alone, people's presence reminded me that I wasn't alone and brought beauty into the difficult days. Movies got me through the difficult days as well. They were a form of positive escapism and they inspired me. They showed me some beauty in someone else's story, which gave me hope that mine could be beautiful too. Additionally, reading novels and self-help books helped too. Reading a book like "A Gentle Reminder" taught me tenderness and softness. Lastly, nature helped me reflect and opened my eyes to its beauty. Whether it was through walking and noticing the trees, or looking outside and noticing how I am a small part of this big world, and how it didn't make sense that I felt like I was carrying the whole world on my shoulders, it helped.
I can't conclude without acknowledging someone extraordinary, yours truly. She got me through this year, through those tough days. She had every reason to give up on me, but she didn't. She got me out of bed every day, especially on days I didn't want to. She supported me, extended grace, loved me through the highs and lows, and carried me through those difficult days. She was kind and gentle, shared my pain with me, and sought to understand my pain. She stayed with me through my emotional rollercoasters, sometimes full of criticism and most times full of compassion. She protected my heart but also released it when it was time to heal it, helped me make tough decisions, and she was patient with me when it came time to let go and move on and I wasn't ready yet.
She stayed with me as I walked most days with my bag of insecurities. She saw me, listened to me, and took me to a place of beauty I once knew. She blew off the dust that filled that room within me, cleaned it, and created space for more beauty. She is my hero because she fought for my colourful life.
It is worth noting that she did all these while sitting with God every day, even on those days when life was unbearable. Even though sometimes all she did was cry while she sat with God, even though sometimes she sat in silence, she made sure she did anyway. Now, she's found peace, grace, tender love, joy, freedom, and open arms there. Notably, she's found a safe space there, one where she could be her authentic self with so much ease.