I love celebrating things: birthdays, holidays, victories. Anniversaries I’m not so sure about right now, though. Yes, I’m going through a divorce but it’s not so much wedding anniversaries I’m talking about.
I feel like the last year has been a steady stream of days I wish I could skip over. The anniversary of the day I left my marriage, the night I was assaulted, and the day of my car accident. The day I met someone I wish I hadn’t and the day I wish I could do over with someone else. One bad memory has led to another one and then one more.
It’s been a year since COVID changed our lives and it’s close to my second pandemic birthday already. I’m wearing down from recognizing dates on the calendar with a stab of pain and remembrance. I’ve hid from them and begged them to keep quiet because I want anniversaries to disappear and celebrations to return.
I have finished trauma counseling and I’m slowing down on consuming every page of self-improvement I can get my hands on. I’m training for a new distance and I’m learning patience. I am not naive enough to think I will forget that these days exist, regardless of the healing and growth that happens. I will remember, but their sting will dull as I keep moving forward. With each step I take, I’m creating victories worthy of celebrating.