2023 — A Painfully Honest Review

Ifunanya Ursula
2 min readDec 31, 2023

Photo Credit: Pinterest

2 weeks ago, while lying on the floor of my bedroom playing Little life by Cordelia, I felt a rippling feeling of emptiness coinciding with an overpowering sense of urgency to be more. To do more.

I was not going to write a review of my year, but 2023 feels monumental in a weirdly beautiful way and I love to memorialize things. And feelings. And moments.

So here goes.

2023 felt like hope; the year that will be.

It felt like a …finally. It felt like an exclamation, the kind that echoes. It felt like cool evening breeze quelling the morning sun away. It felt crisp; like a freshly ironed white shirt.

2023 smelled like the bakery close to my work place. And then it didn’t.

A slow shift started to happen, an uncomfortable weariness, an exhaustion started to spread through my body.

2023 soon started to feel like failing. Failing at hope. And I never fail at hope. It started to feel like drowning, a pressure building.

2023 started to feel like a main character with nothing special to offer. Nothing spectacular. Nothing admirable. Very Ordinary.

And then it amped up.

It started to feel like an adventure. The kind of adventure that leaves you gasping for breath. The kind that leaves you feeling a little scared. The type that leaves you with your head bent over your kneees

Head bent over knees; 2023 left me there for a moment.

2023 was Wins and losses. Yes and Nos. Highs and lows. Each opposite mingling with the other. Their sweaty bodies making love; never reaching a climax.

One minute I was jumping head first on life’s unsteady wheels and the next second I was sitting on the corner of my bedroom staring soulessly at thin air.

2023 was a very trying year and I tried.

I tried at life.

I uncurled my legs, unclenched my fists and tried.

2023 felt numb

I forgot to feel. I forgot love’s face. What is love when you exist outside your body?

Going through late night conversations like I go through my daily telenovela. Nice; nothing golden. Nothing that sticks. Nothing that pushes me to embrace love’s quiet hug. Nothing that convinces me to try at it. Nothing.

2023 was a lie

Lying to myself

That my clouds were rainbows

That my laughters came from my belly

That my heart was in love

2023 felt necessary

Like a classical music that starts to gain recognition 5 years down the line. A prolonged epiphany. It felt like a goodbye and a welcome.

2023 felt like a subtly hidden puzzle, hiding in plain sight.

A puzzle I’m hoping to piece together in 2024.

Phew!

Cheers to a new year that tastes like the chocolate ice cream I made a few days ago, 🫶🏻.

Ify.

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Ifunanya Ursula

Wallflower. I tell emotive stories. I write sales Copies. I create magic.