Hello,
You most definitely don’t know me, and neither do I know you, but I wanted to write this letter to you anyway. Whether or not we know each other doesn’t matter to me, what matters is that I am able to convey my thoughts through this medium of writing (ha).
Why? Because writing helps me gather my thoughts and my emotions, it helps me get over issues or understand situations better.
Most importantly — writing helps me channel my thunderstorm of emotions into a more healthy outlet. Today’s target — fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your view — is you.
You who inhabit this planet called Earth. You who are sitting in your living room or office, in your house or otherwise, reading this letter.
You who are probably stuck at home due to the selfishness of others — or perhaps due to your own. This open letter is especially for those of the latter category.
This letter is to those who complain about their freedoms being taken away because they refuse to practice compassion. Those people who don’t realise that the simple act of wearing a mask, or staying an easy 6 feet away from others, really does make a big difference.
The stubbornness has kept me locked up in a country that is not my own, away from my friends and family — all my loved ones. I have not been able to hug them, kiss them or enjoy any time with them at all because of the refusal to adhere to these simple guidelines.
Because of the selfishness, I’ve not been able to say my final goodbyes to more people than I can count. All while you break the rules that were put in place for the greater good. All while you insist on enjoying your super-spreader “lockdown parties” or illegally sized weddings.
This letter is also for those who refuse to believe that the world has changed forever. Those who think that the incoming COVID-19 vaccines is the magical key that will put things back to the way things were before March of 2020.
Because it won’t be. And it won’t be because not enough people are willing to get vaccinated. Not enough people are willing to accept the techonological wonder that the medical industry has been able to achieve in 2020— creating a viable, useable, effective vaccine within the period of a year.
Hey, I’m as hesitant as you are, but I will still admire amazing achievements when I see or hear about them. (By the way, I’ll still take the vaccine the first chance I get if it means I can finally see my loved ones again.)
This is for those who refuse to let go of their longing and nostalgia, and help the human collective to adapt and become used to this new normal.
Yes, I hate wearing masks everywhere as much as the next person — I’m incredibly sick of my glasses fogging up while I’m out and about in the winter months — but I will still do my best to wear them, and wear them properly.
Yes, frequent hand-washing is a fussy habit to implement, but you have to admit that it’s possibly the best habit to have picked up this year. Imagine all the things that you are exposed to while you’re outside the house! I’m more than happy to wash my hands clean of them as soon as I’m home.
Heck, I’ll sanitise my hands every moment I get now. Have you noticed just how many people still cough and/or sneeze all over the place — without covering?
I’m sitting near one such person, as I’m write this letter.
Finally, this is for those who have refused to use this rare opportunity to grow into better people. Those who have instead, remained stuck in their ways — perhaps, become worse off than when this pandemic hit its peaks.
This includes those I call my friends, who have made their true colours even more obvious during the last 12 months. Those who still don’t put in as much into our relationship as I always have. Those who don’t bother to look at things from any other perspective except their own.
Those who refuse to accept that they could possibly be or act in a toxic manner.
It pains my heart to think about this, but perhaps it is ultimately for the best that I don’t consider you friends any longer.
This year has taught me a lot of things.
It has taught me to finally allow myself to be selfish. To stick to my values and to tell things as they are. It has taught me to appreciate what I have, as little as they may be compared to what I don’t have.
It has taught me to rely on less and less people.
It has taught me that life is fine even when things look bad — as long as I’m able to pick myself up, dust myself off and move on.
And that is what this letter is — a method of moving on from 2020 and into a year that is hopefully better. Better not because of things just “becoming” better — but because I’ll make it better for myself.
Happy New Year, I hope you make your 2021 better than you did your 2020.
Love,
Jasmin.
