It's Our Anniversary

Franns, how did we get here?! I mean I’m grateful to have made it, but IT HAS BEEN A RIDE! It’s hard to really grasp that we’ve been in a pandemic for a whole year. I remember when we first started hearing about Corona, I arrogantly thought it was being over hyped. Like, “it’s a virus, like the flu. People get sick and die every year.” I am not too prideful to say I was wrong. From a national and global perspective, 2020 was a dumpster fire, but when I reflect on it personally - it wasn’t all bad.

I was at church when I got the text from my boss that our office would be shut down and we’d be working from home. Startled (and a little excited), I just went with it. I had worked from home the previous Friday and was in no rush to get back to commuting to the office. Then came the city and state announcements that we were on a lockdown. At the time, my husband and I lived in an apartment building with our friends so we really didn’t isolate. I remember thinking it was kind of scary but also like a long sleepover (which is also a little terrifying to me too).

It felt like every month was as equally painful as it was joyful. I took several breaks from social media because every month seemed marred by police brutality and the loss of a beautiful soul with skin like mine. It was hard to look away but I often felt I had to. Unfortunately, this kind of pain is familiar but hasn’t lost its sting. I can’t imagine how the generations prior coped other than capitalizing on any joy life would offer. I mean talk about your systemic trauma, okay?! I don’t know about you, but as a black woman it was hard to stay engaged and not be overwhelmed with dread. In an effort to protect my sanity, I traded in talks about white supremacy, performance activism, and police brutality for walks in the park, watering my plants, and dinners with my pandemic pod. 

The announcement that the shutdown would be extended to April rocked me like a gut punch. I decided I’d have to make quarantine a life worth living. (And all the wine I was drinking was not a sustainable plan. Anyone else’s budget take on a line for wine? No? Just me? That’s fine - moving on.) Even as an introvert, I cried an ugly cry after that announcement, but once I gathered myself, it was time to plan an Easter dinner. For a very long time, my mother made Easter a special occasion with gifts well into my adulthood. I decided to continue the tradition with my quarantine pod and I set to work on a large meal, a cute cocktail, and a fun dessert. My personal favorite was the goodie bags. I mean who doesn’t love a sack of brightly colored plastic eggs?! I must have been talking real loud about how much I love Easter, because I was gifted two Easter baskets before dinner time. I felt deep joy that day with my crew and full stomach. It felt like I could make it. What I hadn’t realized is that I’d have an extra life to live for. That’s right, I got knocked up in the parabola. 

We’d be here for days if I tried to recap all of 2020. It taught me a lot about myself but also the art of perspective. I could tell two very different stories about my experience. The version that highlights the hardships would go something like this:

I realized I was disheartened by the disparities between the local church and the human decency I believe is ALL OVER the Bible. Got into a car wreck. Entered a global pandemic that took away every celebration I hold dear and reminded me that my life is not where I hoped to be. Saw entirely too many videos of people dying and murderers getting off. Got pregnant and had complications and it tanked my self esteem. And postpartum rocked my a**.

The more positive highlight reel would focus on the sunshine:

My husband and I left our church on one accord and personally healthier than we had been in a while. I got to spend my birthday in New Orleans with some of my best friends. I got to work from home during a pandemic and was fortunate to have support during it. I got pregnant with the cutest baby ever (argue with ya mama) and her early arrival reminded me that I have an incredible support system. 

Now while my goal is not to pretend that nothing bad happened (because toxic positivity is a thing!), it’s not where I want to spend the majority of my energy. Focusing on the negative was making postpartum life soo much worse but I have to get around to reconciling the good with the bad because they did indeed coexist.

I truly found ways to capture the joy (& for a kid that struggles with depression and anxiety, it wasn’t always easy to do). I decided to sit in the sun spots instead of complain about how cold it was in the shade. 2020 reminded me to LIVE! I mean 2020 and the Disney Pixar movie Soul, but you get the point. 

Side note:

If you haven’t seen Soul, WATCH IT. Get some Kleenex, a journal, and be prepared for an existential crisis. 

Soul reminded me that life is not about arriving but finding ways to enjoy the journey. Because if no one has told you this before, let me be the first to say, “no one knows what they’re doing.” We’re all figuring it out! You never truly “arrive” and it’s better that way. So I hope in 2021, you capture the moments, celebrate all the wins, and don’t beat yourself up for the loses.