The radio inside my head consists of only one song – a Christmas song. Perhaps it’s due to being in December, and the shops have started to put Christmas decorations on display – Christmas trees, gifts in colourful wrappings, and the like.
Oh, it’s Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe.
Hang on, before you point fingers at me and decide that I’m a Belieber, let me clear this one thing with you: I’m not. I have only known two songs of him: Baby, and this Christmas song. For some reasons this is the song that my brain chooses to play all morning.
Which reminds me, it’s three weeks to Christmas.
This year has been such a roller coaster ride and to be honest, I am eager to start over. Perhaps this Christmas will bring new hope and joy that I seek so dearly in life. Perhaps it will bring with it new experiences and opportunities. Perhaps it will help me grow.
Yes, you’ve guessed it, it’s been a difficult year.
With 2013 drawing to an end, I can’t help but feeling a little bit sentimental. In the past twenty years, I have always known what the new year will bring: new semester, new school, new education. But this time it’s different, because I have no idea what next year will look like.
This first year of living life after graduation, I have come to a simple fact: I’m lost. Often I wonder if I really am prepared to embrace this change.
Yes, 2013 is the year where I made mistakes. It’s the year where I was thrown to the land of the unknown, with me going back to my home country and start the so-called glorious nine-to-five life. Along the way, I made even worse choices and hurt the one I love.
I have become a quitter, and more often than not, I neglect what should become my responsibility.
In short, I am learning to grow up. And it’s way harder than I expected.
Some people embrace adulthood like it’s a natural progression of life. Some others struggle. Some, like me, feel lost.
Several times I need to consciously remind myself that you don’t have to figure everything out. And that’s okay. Other times I need to remember that not everything needs to be fixed. More often than not, I need to make myself believe that you ought to make mistakes. It’s necessary, compulsory even.
This way, you’ll learn. And grow up. You’ll become an adult. You’ll live. And you’re going to be okay.
This Christmas, I’m going to start all over. I will turn a new chapter. I will embrace hope in the journey to the unknown.
And as J.R.R. Tolkien said, I believe that not all those who wander are lost.