Here’s to support bubbles near and far, and to the ones that existed long before Covid-19 unleashed itself on humanity.
The bittersweet irony of navigating the more painful parts of life is the sense of perspective you gather with them. Increasingly looking outside of yourself at the collective – acknowledging what you have, in spite of what you may have lost in other ways. The darker moments of 2020 (and indeed life) have made me feel even more appreciative of so many things, as well as being at peace with letting others go.
Overwhelmingly, as we say goodbye to 2020, and to the point that I can physically feel my chest beat when I think about it, I’m thankful that through a bit of foresight, a touch of good AND bad timing, a sprinkling of synchronicity and the extortionate rate of London rentals which makes it the norm to be sharing in your 30s, I ended up living pretty much on top of these ones, the absolute rocks of my whirlwind life, without whom I likely wouldn’t have made it through the last two months. They shifted suddenly and seamlessly into my support bubble, levelling up and up on the definition of what that actually means beyond any kind of government declaration, and in doing so have stopped me from falling down. Friends, family, and (best) friends who have become family because happily for me and them, two of them fell in love. That’s another thing you learn over time: having lots of people in your life is fun, but having a handful of the right people in your life makes it just about bloody brilliant a lot of the time; even when (especially when?) it hurts a bit.
While the anxiety and uncertainty continues to rumble beneath us, let’s not worry about what we achieved in 2020 – we’re here. Here’s to a bright 2021, which I truly hope and believe at some point will be filled with tight hugs, buzzingly busy venues and fully visible mask-free smiles that although are likely to be weathered with more perspective than anyone would have chosen this year, are all the more meaningful for it.
No Comments