I got tattooed twice in 2017. A full circle in June; red carnations in December.
(But this is not the beginning.)
If you’re an old friend, you’ve heard this story. If you’re a new friend — and there were many this year — chances are you didn’t. This time last year I was trying to drag myself of a painful, dark hole. Exactly on the turn of the year, Anjana Menon, James and I hugged and told each other that was going to be the best year ever.
It was. It was the year of travelling and connecting with those around me. The year of self-discipline. The year I took a leap of faith and started a round the world journey with 50 people. A long year that felt like an heartbeat.
Many full circles. Many circles that were meant to go elsewhere, unfinished.
And freedom. Freedom to live life in my own terms, freedom to make mistakes. Freedom to love myself unconditionally, unashamedly. Freedom to take my head from my ass and forget myself and open my heart to this vast world — even when it comes with pain.