That time when I looked back at 2021

2021 gave me so much. 2021 took so much from me.

It’s a recent tradition for me to stop and reflect about the year about to end.

Coming the last week of December I look back and ask myself: What kind of year was it? What kind of person have I been during the last twelve months? How can I be better next year?

The fireplace crackles as I take my laptop and start writing. It’s a freezing, sunny Sunday morning outside.

Pippo the Cat sleeps at the top of his scratching tower, a ball of fur so round and fluffy. His relaxation is palpable, thanks to the warmth of the fire and the soothing sound of a pseudo Christmas/Jazz playlist that YouTube suggested to me.

That's one small step for a woman in love with Taylor’s Evermore, one giant leap for mankind.

My second cup of hot coffee smokes on the coffee table, waiting for me to attempt a sip. On my right side the Christmas tree is fully lit.

I feel calm. Breath in, breathe out and my journey looking back at the past year begins.

They’ve been hard, for all of us. Our certainty crumbled like an old cookie and we tried everything to keep it together in the desperate attempt of going back to “how it was”.

2021 gave me a lot. 2021 took a lot.

2021 gave me the awareness that “Home” is where you feel safe. There’s no other place that can keep you grounded and steady when all is trembling outside.

It gave me the fear of the unknown, of navigating by sight, of not being able to plan anything ever.

It gave me the strength that comes from feeling at home in your own home.

It gave me anxiety. And tears. In equal part. For all I couldn’t do the way I wanted to do, in the time frame I set for myself. For everything that could have been and yet, wasn’t.

ess others is way less interesting than impressing myself.

It took the fear of not being worth enough. The fear of failing my roles.

It gave me incredible opportunities to measure myself with smart, successful people, to tell my story, to look around and see how many talented, generous people are close to me.

It took my sleep sometimes. In the hard times. During the crazy stressful summer we lived, work wise.

It gave me pure, unexpected, brief moments of happiness that was like a sip of cold beer on a hot day.

It gave the fear that from now on, we can’t ever keep our guard down and it took the illusion that at some point everything will be easy.

It took my personal time, because work needed 90% of it.

It gave 150 hours of meeting, more or less.

150 frustrating and exciting hours.

100 hours of training. Countless hours spent on planning and measuring.

Countless hours of debating and discussing.

It took the expectation that one day, all the people I work with would validate my job.

It gave me the privilege of living and working with someone who validates my work daily, and supports my shortcomings.

It took a piece of my family forever. A key piece of the jigsaw puzzle of my life.

And there’s nothing I can get back to compensate for what it took.

It took away the collaboration of someone I considered irreplaceable.

It gave the awareness that nothing lasts forever and that someone can be “right” for me and yet won’t walk by my side for the entire journey .

2021 gave me so little family time, because of this hateful virus that challenges our relationships and our closeness to others.

It gave me the awareness that I want to be more present, more involved and closer to some of my family members.. with security measures of course.

It took the illusion that everybody has

any sort of ethical approach to life.

It gave me a chance to do some serious spring cleaning: of my contacts, relationships and people who don’t match my values.

It took my creativity.

It gave me a different kind of creativity. And different sometimes is good.

It gave me the illusion that I could travel again.

It took the courage to do it and it let my plane take off without me on board.

Because a weekend in Berlin isn’t worth my and my family's safety.

It gave me a new take on the things I want

: I know that they won’t always look as I planned, nevertheless they will make me feel exactly as I was looking for.

I want to embrace them, celebrate them, and enjoy every little nuance.

2021 has been a year of extremes. Love, stress, fear, joy, freedom, constriction, imagination, stagnation, abundance, scarcity.

I believe this state of extremes will last for a long time, while we redefine our lives.

While we learn how to move through our communities in a different way. While we (re)learn what’s important and what can wait. While we make space for our new selves.

There’s only one list I will keep writing.

The “What words my next year will be made of” list.

Calm. Brave. Better. Resilient. Vionary. Close. Open. Help. Example.

2022, I welcome you.