This morning I received a thoughtful text from my sister saying, ‘Sending love and hugs as I know today is a hard one’.
Today is the anniversary of something traumatic I went through a number of years ago. It’s a date I usually struggle with, but actually this year is the first in eight it hasn’t hung over my head for days. I grinned to myself as I walked into Primark to buy myself some pink shoes.
I thought no more of it until I logged into my Facebook to waste half an hour. The top of my feed presented me with a four-year Friend-iversary with my best friend.
A few hours later, I finished my YouTube yoga session and switched on my phone. I was greeted with a message from my dad saying I’d passed my GCSE English four years ago today. He told me he is as proud of me today as he was then. It may not seem like a big deal, but up until the past few of years, my life has been rather tumultuous, so getting a GCSE in English at the age of twenty-five marked a huge change in my life.
For years, I’ve held this date in my mind, as the day that something terrible happened. I’ve frozen it in amber and stored it away in its own little macabre museum. Today was an unexpected reminder that wonderful things happen every year on this day too. Today I was able to unfreeze that day eight years ago and let it float away on the wind while its museum burned to ashes.
I am proud to say I’m recovered. I no longer fear the bank holiday in August rearing its head, and this was the first year I paid this date no attention.