Dear 2020,

I don’t know why I’m starting with formality when, quite frankly, you’ve been more than a bit of a bastard. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see the back of a year, nor have I been more relieved not to have to ‘celebrate’ on New Years Eve.

There were a lot of plans I made for you, things I’ve been waiting for for a long time. I think it was the same for a lot of people. When the virus hit China I followed what was being said, it was just like the flu right? Some people got really sick but most people were ok. Oh, what a sweet summer child I was.

Then it spread and it spread some more, things started changing, countries locking down. Then we did too, sat in the living room watching a Prime Minister give a ‘special briefing’ we weren’t to leave the house but only until June. I’d make it until June apart from the fear of even taking my bins out, the regular paralysing panic attacks and the lack of work. Then June came and went, this thing still sticking around but it would be fine by September, I’d still go to Paris and then celebrate my birthday. I picked up my wedding dress in a mask and the count down was on, maybe this year could be saved? Nope – cancelled and cancelled, while we also lost 2 more adored pets.

The hitter came, schools reopened, we’d eaten out to help out and then cases are rising again. There are whispers – should we be cancelling our wedding? Hen dos cancelled, another lockdown in November and messages to those we know and love that the wedding is postponed another year – I’ll be a 2022 bride. Another month of hiding at home, this time packing because we have to leave soon. December you tried to kick again – a positive Covid test, days before Christmas and the unexpected passing of a beloved pet the day before the last of 2020.

In short, I’m tired. And I don’t even feel like I can complain because you’d taken so much from all of us. Loved ones, jobs, security, health, comfort. Take, take, take.

While I don’t want to thank you for ‘making me stronger’ or ‘building resilience’ (let’s be honest would rather not have had to deal with these things), I don’t want to forget knowing that I did get through it. That punch after punch I managed to keep my head above water, even if every now and again I got pulled under. I’m leaving this year battered, bruised and limping to the end but I managed it.

So, you can go – I hope what follows is kinder.