2013 was the best year ever. Whether I choose to measure the year through personal development, academic growth, goals achieved or countries travelled, I am left with this conclusion: 2014 has a lot to live up to.
People may begin the year with their bowl of non-fat yogurt and muesli to get them on the right track. Unintentionally, I did the same this year. No, I’m not talking about my feast at Runner and Stone or the free espresso I enjoyed at Gimme! Coffee. My trip to Paris in January set the tone for my year. The adventure of taking the night train, the embarrassment of losing my wallet and the discovery of the noisette inspired in me the right cocktail of ambitions, emotions and tastes to power me through 2013.
There was Italy in all its glory and stress. There was beginning fourth year. There was finishing my first term of fourth year. There was Sweet Lemon Media and Epigram Travel, not to mention a year abroad blog, Hotcourses Abroad and my personal blog. I travelled alone, read amazing books, spoke a new language and safely consumed more than my RYA (recommended yearly amount) of croissants. Including an Ispahan croissant, from the Pierre Herme in Montparnasse.
At the beginning of the year, I chose the words authenticity and love to shape my year. Have I lived up to these words? Was it ever possible to do so? I’ve honored them in some ways and forgotten them in others. Yet, it doesn’t matter. 2013 has brought me to so many amazing places, led me to so many amazing opportunities that any attempt to measure the year will underrepresent it.
My friends and I are obsessed with the idea of “being adult” this year, mostly because, despite being on the cusp of 22, we don’t feel nearly as adult as we thought we would be when we hit the lovely palindromic age. 22 means having a moderate idea of a job, a cool apartment, good fashion sense and the ability to afford better than second-to-bottom shelf wine. Only, I haven’t found any of that to be true. I want to be a journalist, but get freaked out when I say so; I live in a dump; I rewear my jeans more times than I should admit to and I prefer cider to wine. Yet, when travelling home for Christmas, I felt the littlest inklings of adult. It was scary. It was awesome. It was when they searched my bag.
2013, thank you. Thank you for being the year I didn’t know I want, the year I didn’t know that awaited me as I woke up on January 1. When my mother surprised me for my birthday in Copenhagen, I didn’t think my year could get any better. That surprise has turned out to be the perfect metaphor for my year. Just when you think it couldn’t get any better, it turns around and surprises you. In Copenhagen.
How was 2013 for you? What are you looking forward to in 2014?