2011, It’s Been a Great Year

Only a few more days left until the new year. Amazing, isn’t it? A miracle in itself.

The bests of this past year can be summed up in one  (long) sentence: this was the year I both lost and found myself, the year I experienced and learned much more than I thought a 19 year-old could, the year I fell in love again with the things that ignited my soul.

I wrote more, read more (hopefully there’s been a noticeable improvement in whatever I’ve written here; if not, well…). I got a taste of healthy lifestyle—one which I’m trying to not just to revisit as a phase, but to adopt wholly. Positive habits start now, not as a resolution awaiting the new year.

I was introduced to Pilates and consequently became addicted. There’s nothing more beautiful, more confident-boosting, more inspirational, more delicious than feeling all sorts of bendy and flexible. The things the human body can be coaxed into doing is nothing short of incredible; the muscles, the mind, the soul work in ways that can only be explained as an experience of artistic, intrinsic reflection. No words could describe how beautiful I feel after a round of a good stretch.

The same could be said for Zumba. A summer fling with best friends turned into a slight obsession. Ceaseless dancing, smiles, and sweat all around—here’s to an hour gone by too fast, an hour of pure enjoyment that couldn’t possibly be a form of exercise. I used to hate sweating until then.

But in the midst of downward dogging and bootyshaking came something slightly unexpected. A past lover resurfaced, and the affair resurged more passionate than before. Call it a long-distance relationship; I’m here, Paris is there. One day we’ll be reunited. But in the mean time, my thirst was satiated by a good cup of black coffee (or toffee nut latte) and an entire day spent at a museum or art gallery of sorts. Tossed in were a few good reads and a semester of lectures on gender, race and class in the media by a favorite professor. It’s about time I’ve come to terms with my admiration for and stance as a feminist.

Balanced with all those things were two jobs which I truly loved. A summer internship turned to an extended stay with the company, and a side job which brought out another side of me I wished was more prevalent in my everyday life. A side completely uninhibited, wild, free.

And… I fell in love. Hard. With Latin dance and its culture. Let me salsa, merengue, bachata ’til I die, and should an untimely death by too much dancing come, I’ll have died a happy woman. Another round of sweet empanadas in between “Promise” and “Tu Tigueraje” on repeat? Si, I’ll take it. A connection with sensuality (I hesitate to say sexuality) and trust in your partner (whomever it may be) and self made is one never lost. The friends I’ve made and people I’ve met—along with the confidence gained—is invaluable. Truly.

It seems cliché, but by tradition it must said: here’s to yet another chapter closed, and cheers to the opening of a fresh, blank page for the next. Look not behind but forward—what’s written is written, and to try to edit the past will only diminish the rawness of it all.

Books don’t get written by themselves—it’s time to get that first sentence down.

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