It has been a pleasure with sporadic sprinkles of pain and sorrow to be with you.

When you came, I was eager to make you my year. My soul was full of enthusiasm and excitement to make the most of you. I even bought a planner - all determined to make you as organised as possible. I was also determined to make sure that when you came, every path that I was going to take would lead me to nothing but pure joy and happiness. 

But when you actually raised your curtains, reality dawned on me. It was definitely not going to be a smooth-running show. The audience wouldn't always laugh at my punchlines the way I imagined them to. The props wouldn't always be set in place and on time the way they were during rehearsals. I wouldn't be consistently in tune when I performed the musical numbers. 

Dear 2019, you have been one of the most memorable years - both in the "you've opened a number of doors for me" and the "you've kicked me in the ass" sense.

First, let's talk about how you've been an unforgiving ass-kicker.

You've challenged my emotions to heights and lengths that I had never imagined any year would. I experienced days when getting out of bed felt tiresome and all I wanted to do was sleep to shut the whole world out. I faced days when I had to walk on eggshells and making sure that everything I did was immaculate. I had nights when I became so well-acquainted to the sound of my own sobbing. Even worse, you left me with no options other than having to adjust to having a stranger as a roommate. That just meant when I cried, I had to do it silently. I had to stifle my sobs under my blanket so that I wouldn't wake her. Crying is painful; having to pretend that you're not is even more excruciating. But it's okay. I'm in a better place now.

And hell, you also had a lot of surprises in store for me. I had to rekindle relationships with people I had not met for years. I had to pretend that whatever incidents that took place five years ago were merely fabricated realities, forged out of spite, anger and frustration. I had to go back to places that I hadn't been to for so long. It was not easy. But it's okay. I did (and am doing) those for the people I love.

You've led me down roads where I had to encounter people who seemed to have zero knowledge of what common decency and respect are. Months after your arrival, 2019, I found myself at war with my self-esteem and confidence. I struggled with a negative body image. I became so hateful towards the numbers that I saw on the scale. I became hateful towards myself. When people said "you look fat" to me, I went home and reinforced that statement onto myself. When people held my arms and told me how big they looked, I went home and wished I looked differently. But it's okay. I've learned to be comfortable in my body now. It's one of the hardest journeys I've ever embarked on. I've encountered red lights, but red lights aren't forever.

It's unfair to disclose solely your punches, hits and curses. It's time to talk about how you've also given me remedy and blessings.

Months after your arrival, my family and I moved to a new home. When we moved here, it also meant we moved away from a toxic and suffocating living space - far from demeaning, back-stabbing, two-faced companies. It feels so much freer and happier here. After so long, we finally have a place we can really, genuinely call 'home'.

2019, you've also given me chances to change the way I perceive friendships. I used to feel like I was nothing but an option to my friends, so I was never really good at sustaining friendships. But this year, I have grown closer to my small circle. I can actually be myself! I don't have to uphold and carry the weight of that pretentious image of "having everything together" which had been imposed on me for years. Because I really don't. I'm just as messy and uncertain. And my friends are cool about it. At least I think they are. Oh God, I HOPE they are.

I'm doing fairly well in my studies. Being a TESL major has been....well, challenging, to say the least...but being surrounded by supportive people makes it a lot easier. I've also picked up a new instrument, so my three-piece dream collection is finally complete! And 2019, you've rekindled my love for writing poetry and short stories too. I stayed away from that kind of writing for quite a while, but this year, I've realised that I still have a soft spot for them. Who knows, maybe I'll write a novel one day. And by one day, perhaps...in 2020. Speaking of writing, I've penned some of my favourite lyrics I've ever written in my life. 2019, you've probably awakened the writer in me - the one that had fallen into a deep slumber I thought she would never bother to open her eyes again.

Dear 2019, you've also taught me about relationships. You've made me realise that goodness, I'm a bad communicator. I never say what I feel. And you've taught me to put down my guard and listen and not see every syllable as a battle cry. Even though you made me question a lot of things sometimes, you taught me to pause and reflect. Above all, you taught me to listen, to myself and to the other person.

I think one of the most important lessons that you've given me, 2019, is that I have to learn to say "it's okay" to myself. If I can give away forgiveness so relentlessly and incessantly to other people, I can surely do that to myself too.

So dear 2019, it's okay if you haven't been the best and the most amazing year. It's okay if you didn't treat me the way you treated other people. It's okay if I can't relate to their "this year, I'm the happiest I've ever been" posts. I'm still thankful for you. It doesn't mean I'm any less deserving of happiness. 

So long, 2019. Dear 2020, we'll do better.