When I hear others saying how awful 2018 was for them, I feel kinda guilty. Irrational I know, because I didn’t personally cause the bad things that happened this year (geopolitics, natural disasters, the collapse of Western civilisation into a teeming pit of poisonous vipers, economic disasters, etc) and I’ve tried to minimise my contribution to the burning bag of dog poo left on the doorstep of 2019 as much as I can (ethical shopping, ethical porn, availability of shoulder to cry on). It makes me awkward somehow, to say out loud “actually, 2018 was pretty great for me” when so many other people are suffering. But I’m going to anyway, not because I feel I have any great ‘improve your life’ insights to offer or that I feel I am in any way more deserving of success and happiness than anyone else. Why then? BECAUSE I CAN.
I’m incredibly privileged compared to millions of other people. I not only have a warm safe place to live, regular meals and fresh water, a loving family and the good fortune to not (currently) live in a war zone, I also have a voice, a platform and a network on which to share my views. I feel I should acknowledge the advantages and benefits that I live with thanks to the arbitrary hand of Fate, as to ignore them would seem ungrateful.
So this is about the aspects of 2018 which I am immeasureably grateful for, the things which landed in my lap through serendipity rather than hard work or my own intrinsic awesomeness.
I count PetticoatDiva Jo as one of my best ever friends – in ‘found family’ terms, she is my baby sister and I love her to bits. She makes me laugh, comforts me when I’m sad, criticises me when I’m being an arsehole, laughs at me when I’m being an idiot and generally brings huge joy to my life. She’s witty and warm-hearted, generous, occasionally sensible, always entertaining and even knowing me better than almost anyone, still likes me (now that’s fortitude). If 2019 has the same amount of Jo in it as 2018 did, then no day can ever be dark.
I miss him when we’re apart and feel like I’m at home when we’re together. He knows my body and my mind, and uses his knowledge to make me feel happy, safe, excited, comforted. He’s a jolly splendid chap and I adore him.
Sex Twitter and blogging buddies
You fucking rock and its a privilege to know you all. Especially my cyber-flirting Domme Goddess. You know who you are.
This year I have made a dedicated attempt to not feel inadequate when in the company of my family. It’s not my sisters’ fault that they are stunningly beautiful and make me look like a half-chewed mushroom in comparison. My parents do a wonderful job of understanding and adapting to my clumsiness at recognising social cues and tendency to lecture interminably on subjects that are of particular interest to me. My horde of lunatic cousins even think I’m funny. They’re a wonderful tribe and I’m very lucky to be a part of it
This year I have become much more conscious of how women are perceived and treated, in comparison to men. Despite the legions of nonsense emenating from the voices of the afraid, angry, arrogant or simply just oblivious; structural inequalities are being considered (if not yet corrected) and intersectionality boosts the voices of those who would otherwise not be heard. Let’s have more of that in 2019!
I’ve had some absolutely magnificent sex this year. Long may that continue as well!
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Have a Happy New Year!