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Saturday, 13 January 2018

I think most people can agree that 2017 was a monumental year in shaping them into the person they would be entering the new year as, whether that’s through positive experiences, or as a result of life violently and relentlessly throwing endless curve balls at their face over the past twelve months, until there's been no choice but to start throwing that shit back, a million times harder.

Anyway, the balls that hit my face throughout last year (alright, calm down) have undoubtedly turned me into a stronger, more independent, mildy sassy, take-no-bullshit, sort of person who is lightyears away from the anxious, doormat of a girl I was this time last year, but trust me, it wasn't through lack of heartache. 

In January last year, I sat at my computer and typed out an anti-resolutions post, full of big, wonderful statements of how I would be cutting out toxic relationships, not punishing myself for my mistakes, spending more time with my friends and just generally living life to the full - beautiful concepts, but pretty much all impossible, and in hindsight, fucking stupid.

Instead, the reality is that 2017 was the year that broke me, and slowly put me back together. 

I mean, you could say that I brought a lot of it on myself, I kick-started the new year by breaking up with my boyfriend of almost four years, moving out of the flat we had shared together for two, and catapulting myself into the world as a single adult - as if that shit isn't scary enough, some idiot invented Tinder.

I moved house three times in seven months, from my flat with my ex-boyfriend to a house share with my friends, which quickly turned into a monumental disaster (through no fault of theirs) and saw me living in a studio flat on my own, the most depressing and probably stupid thing I've ever done (and that really is saying something) I could barely afford to live, I definitely couldn't afford to eat, I was going days at a time with no food, and drinking myself into oblivion whenever I did have money, so that I could drunkenly pass out and be unaware of the fact I was completely, utterly, alone, and the only person who could make things even marginally better was, otherwise, unavailable - sorry, can you hear a violin, or is that a mosquito?

Anyway, it's fine, because I was quickly distracted from my pit of depression by being made redundant! Oh, and then I didn't have to be lonely in my flat anymore, because I got evicted.

I made a decision at the start of 2017 to start putting myself and my own happiness first, and was punished every single day since the moment I put it into practice. I really am being a self-loathing twat aren't I? Stick with me, it does get better.

The friends that I promised to spend more time with? Oh yeah, I don't know where they are. Primarily, because I've been so wrapped up in my endless disasters, lashing out and acting like a an alcoholic twat, that they've all walked away, but that's sort of okay because I've built new relationships, with people that can tell the difference between someone being a dick for the sake of being a dick, and being a dick because they are crying out for help, and it's those people that started the process of me turning into a proper person, and not a walking, talking catastrophe.

So, losing friends, losing homes, losing jobs, losing boyfriend's, losing money, and generally just losing the fucking plot, is the jist of how 2017 went.


Yes, okay, I may be living back at home now (in the house my parents moved into at the start of last year, so I suppose we can call that the fourth time of moving) residing in a box room and sharing a bunkbed with a cat, but everything is A-OK.

I do feel more positive, I feel happier and I feel like I can do anything, however, I decided that these newly-discovered feelings of strength are pretty much redundant all the time I'm living in the same town that I always have done, walking past the same buildings, saying good morning to the same people, and just generally existing in the same, boring mundane bubble that I always have.

I thought that whilst I have no big commitments or plans, no house or brats, that 2018 should be the chance to throw myself into a new place, new culture, new way of life, with a clean slate and room for opportunities that I just won't be exposed to if I stay in Bognor Regis.

So I've booked myself a one-way coach ticket to The Hague in The Netherlands to leave on Thursday 8th March, where I'll be living and working in a really awesome hostel for a couple of months, then I guess we'll just see what happens, because of all the things I learnt over the past twelve months, the most important is that there is no point over-thinking or over-planning, because someone will probably shit on you either way. As my Dad often says 'if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans for tomorrow' - I hate it when my Dad is right.

Already, even the thought of knowing I'll be spending my twenty-fourth birthday in a different country, surrounded by new people, instead of sat alone scoffing Chinese food like I did last year, has me confident this is completely the correct decision.

As for the new blog name, to be staying in a hostel, in a city that has a 500,000 person population from all over the world, the choice of the name 'sonder' - which means the realisation that every person you meet has a vivid and complex life - seemed very fitting.

This year is for self-growth, and self-love, no pressure, no goals, no objectives, just a clean slate in a new country, where nobody knows me, and the perfect opportunity to be the person that I should have been before assholes decided to rip my confidence from me.

If that isn't the biggest, most disgusting 'new year, new me' post you've ever read, then fuck. 

I am so proud of this decision, and excited to write about every, little experience. I just hope it's worth the read.

Elly xo

1 comment

  1. Already your 2018 sounds like it will be amazing.
    I can't imagine being brave enough to do what you're doing, but it sounds wonderful.
    Cora | http://www.teapartyprincess.co.uk/


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