Unless your New Years resolutions include reducing time on social media, or getting off it altogether, you’ve probably seen a tonne of 2023 Highlights Reels by now.
Alongside these Highlights are plenty of reminders that they are just that- highlights. Reminders that if all you did this year was survive, that’s okay too.
Its also good to remember, even those who are sharing highlights probably had plenty of challenges throughout the year as well.
Looking at these recaps in my own social media feeds, it seems for lots of people, 2023 was like a baseball bat to the head. Myself included. There were great moments, more than I realised as I look back over these memories. But at times, it certainly felt like the Highlights were outweighed by the Lowlights.
Last year really did pack a punch. I don’t think anyone escaped unscathed. And I also don’t think there’s anything wrong with or ‘negative’ about sharing the trials and tribulations we faced. It shows its okay to have a tricky year. That its okay if in the last twelve months all you did was survive. And if you had a tough year, I think you’ve earned the opportunity to have a whinge about it!
I thought 2019 was rough- that was the year my long-term relationship of nine years ended. 2023 made that year look like kindergarten.
2023 was one of the toughest, most transformative years of my life.
So many areas of my life were impacted last year- my living situation, family relationships, friendships, and creative community. The only thing that has been stable and steady is work!
And it all started with a parking ticket.
In late January, I arrived home from spending the Australia Day long weekend on the Sunshine Coast to find a $170 parking fine waiting for me in the mail. It wasn’t my first, but they never stop hurting the same. Unlike other car-related expenses, which there were plenty of at the time, this one was completely unnecessary and avoidable.
The fine was issued for parking on a nature strip, too close to a no-parking yellow line. Outside the home of a guy I had briefly dated in late 2022. I’ll call him W.
W and I had been set up by mutual friends in November 2022. Things seemed to be going well- I was a writer and he was an avid reader, and we connected over our love of books, both reading and writing them. He did yoga and practiced Stoicism. We shared the same taste in music, and saw Ash Grunwald and Wolfmother live in concert for our first two dates.
In early December, I invited W to the end-of-term performance night at the circus school where I train aerial hoop. Initially he agreed, but pulled out days before the event, claiming he had to work.
On the night, I was about to perform my aerial hoop routine when I received a text message from W. He was not interested in taking the next step into a relationship with me, claiming there was no spark between us. I made it through my performance, and cried my eyes out afterward.
The news came completely unexpected to me. My previous relationships had started off hot and heavy, and I was quite enjoying the slow burn of this connection. I was not concerned about it; I knew it was a much healthier pace to be travelling toward a potential relationship. And all the evidence showed me that W was keen- every day he sent me good morning and goodnight texts, and we messaged extensively in between.
Something good came of that night. I made the decision to commit to something else instead- my dream of living and working in Ireland. More on that later.
W wanted to remain friends, and continued to text me every day to check in. I was mad at him. I felt led on, but the continued attention was addictive. He invited me to the Lifeline Bookfest in Brisbane. One of my New Year’s resolutions was not to buy new books, and to read through the multitude I already had. I wanted to save money for my Ireland trip, and needed to start culling down my belongings.
I bought thirteen new books at the Bookfest, at a cost of $65. The money went to charity, but I still felt guilty that I had let myself down on my travel and reading goal not even a month into the new year. I actually cried about it. I cried about buying new books!
I cried again when I received the parking ticket later that month. By now, I had stopped responding to W’s messages. I hadn’t even wanted to go to the Bookfest that day- besides not wanting to spend the money on books, I knew deep down I didn’t want to spend the day with W, even as a friend. If I had listened to my true feelings, I wouldn’t have gotten the parking ticket. It was a steep price to pay for not listening to my intuition.
Scarlette
In February 2023 I got a free tattoo from an apprentice artist.
To some (probably to most) this sounds like a bad idea. There were definitely some eyebrows raised when I told people what I was doing!
I had been wanting to get my second piece of ink, a fairy sitting on top of a surgery scar, for awhile. I had been getting quotes from tattoo studios around the Gold Coast. Then one day at work, one of my colleagues mentioned she was getting her first tattoo. Her friend had started an apprenticeship and was offering free tattoos for practice and experience. She did ask me ‘Do you mind if it’s shit?’. I was a little unnerved by the lack of confidence, but willing to take the risk. I took a chance on inexperience, and the gamble paid off.
She is called Scarlett, and she is a reminder of how strong I was at three years old when I got the scar, and how strong I still am now. I certainly needed this reminder when facing the events to come in 2023.
The Housemate from Hell
For seventeen months I had been living in a townhouse in Palm Beach on the Gold Coast. For most of that time, I was very happy there. I practically had the whole ground floor to myself, sharing only the kitchen, laundry and garage. I had the living room all to myself, which came furnished with a large couch and TV unit.
In the beginning, Jane was a great housemate – she was 43, a single mother-of-two (one teenage son and one adult, neither of whom lived with us) and worked full-time. She drank a lot, but kept her habit confined to her upstairs bedroom. Occasionally she would play music on a Friday night, but she was always mindful of noise and shut down the one-woman party around midnight.
In late 2022, Jane’s drinking and partying gradually worsened. On Christmas Eve, I came home from a family dinner to find her snorting cocaine with a work friend off our kitchen bench. The alcohol and drug-fuelled nights became more frequent, and spilled out of her bedroom all over the house, at all hours of the night, any night of the week. My living environment was becoming increasingly unpredictable and unstable.
Our other housemate Elizabeth moved out in January 2023. At first, Jane was content to keep the tenancy to just me and her. In March, she announced a 38-year-old male factory worker was moving into the spare bedroom.
Previously, she had followed a stringent vetting process in the search for new housemates, including a phone conversation and an in-person meeting with Jane. Both Elizabeth and I had been subject to this process before moving in. She had also insisted on having female housemates only.
I expressed to Jane that I was disappointed about being left out of the selection process for this latest housemate. I would be sharing a bathroom with this guy, and spending the most time around him. Considering her current behaviour, I didn’t trust Jane’s judge of character. She then informed me that my rent was going up $50 per week in a month’s time.
Our next interaction was much more heated. I was mad- as the leaseholder, Jane would have known for at least two months prior of a rental increase for the property. Again, I had been left out of the loop of vital information regarding my tenancy. Jane gave me my marching orders to vacate the property in two weeks time. But she couldn’t get rid of me that easily. She thought she could push me around, but she had met her match in me!
I learned Jane had never lodged my bond with the Rental Tenancy Authority, which could incur a fine. She had also not given me the proper formal written Notice to Vacate, and ‘irreconcilable differences’ was also not a reason accepted by the RTA to terminate my tenancy. I asked her to present me with the correct paperwork stating a valid reason for eviction. In the meantime, I would look for another place to live, in my own time.
In response to this, Jane turned feral, and things took a turn for the worst. The gloves were off. One night, using the brute strength and stupidity invoked by her intoxication, she moved her couch and TV unit out of the downstairs living room into the garage. Drunk and high, she stood outside my locked bedroom door, muttering threats and intimidation. I warned her I would call the police. Sitting on the floor and crying to my dad on the phone, I have never felt so alone and scared for my safety as I did that night.
Emotionally and physically exhausted, I put a shoutout on Facebook for rooms for rent, and re-installed the Flatmates app. Almost instantly, I had a response to my Facebook post, from a former work colleague. Her neighbour was looking for a new housemate. I made contact with Cat and arranged to meet her and inspect the room for rent.
I knew the moment I arrived at the property it was the right place for me. Cat was quiet living, just like me. She had had a similar experience as me with her former housemate. We talked for over three hours, sharing about our experiences and discussing our expectations for our living situation. Because of the volatile situation I was dealing with, Cat offered for me to move into the vacant room straight away, and stay there while I finished packing up and cleaning at the old place. She even helped me move my bedframe and mattress.
This frightening turn of events landed me in the most wonderful little community, with some of the kindest, most considerate people I’ve ever known. There are four units in our complex- Cat and I live in upstairs, Anna and her husband are downstairs, and then another young couple, Karen and David, live in a third unit. The building’s owner Chris lives in the fourth. I fed his cat over the Christmas-New Year week. We hang out often and have games nights. I have lived here for ten months now, and it has been so special.
Bend The Air
In April I entered my first Bend The Air aerial arts competition on the Sunshine Coast, my first aerial hoop performance outside the studio where I train on the Gold Coast. I didn’t place in the competition, but I had so much fun and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Every year, go somewhere you’ve never been before
In late May I travelled to North Queensland and spent a week with my best friend Meg, who was working in Airlie Beach as a newly graduated Marine Biologist.
We explored the township of Proserpine, walked through Conway National Park and on Coral Beach, got matching tattoos, and snorkelled on the Great Barrier Reef at Hamilton Island. Its the furthest north I have travelled in Queensland.
Jabiru and the Outback Writers Festival
In June my short story ‘Jabiru’ was selected in the Outback Writers Festival Short Story Competition and published in the annual anthology.
I learned of this writing win one year to the day since my trip to Arnhem Land, when the events of this short story took place. Jabiru is a fictionalised account of my experiences whilst travelling in the Northern Territory in 2022, including a spontaneous dinner date with my Arnhem Land tour guide.
The Big C
In late June, my mum was diagnosed with Myeloma, a type of blood cancer.
The first few weeks of Mum’s hospitalisation was focused on getting her pain levels under control. There were multiple medical teams overseeing her care, including oncology, orthopaedics and radiology. Each team had to work out where their contribution fit in the course of treatment.
At first, Mum’s outlook was simple and positive: she would have a month-long course of radiation treatment to shrink the tumour in her lower spine, and no surgery was needed. This positive outlook was challenged by the radiologist. The tumour was actually cushioning deteriorated bones in Mum’s spine, and shrinking the cancerous growth with radiation would only cure the cancer, not the back pain. Mum needed back surgery to stabilise her spine before radiation could commence. She was in surgery a week later, and released from hospital a week after that. She spent two months recovering from the surgery, and then commenced radiation in August. She completed the course of treatment in mid-September, and is recovering well.
President
Throughout all of the events of 2023, I had been serving as President of a not-for-profit writing organisation. I had been involved with the committee for many years, starting as a general committee member, Social Media Manager, Vice President and then President.
I never thought I would take on a leadership role like this. Throughout my working life, I had shied away from management roles. Then I went to the NT Writer’s Festival in Darwin in June 2022. I was so inspired by this event, particularly by the immersion of indigenous culture with storytelling, and returned home with a vision of potential for my writing community on the Gold Coast.
In August 2023, one month shy of the end of my tenure as President, I decided to leave the role, and a huge chunk of my creative community. A community of people, places and events I was closely involved with for years.
Last year, I grieved friendships that ended and family relationships that never really had a chance. I learned who wasn’t prepared to fight for our connection, and the connections I was not prepared to fight for anymore. I accepted where there was no connection to begin with. I felt so grateful for those who remained, yet cried so many tears over those who left.
Wonderful new people and places filled those spaces, which I am so very grateful for. But it was still a hugely challenging adjustment, which left me feeling lost and unanchored. Better days were on their way, but in the last few months of 2023, I felt despondent and defeated.
For the first part of last year, I felt determined to remain optimistic, and not let my challenges get the better of me. Toward the end of the year, I had slipped into victim mode. The series of unfortunate events felt like a snowball, growing larger and larger as it careered down the hill toward New Year’s Eve.
And now here I am, one week into the New Year. So far, so good.
We all know that January 1st doesn’t bring magical resolution to all the challenges and problems of the previous year. It is a date on the Gregorian calendar that we created. For some, it isn’t even the New Year Yet!
But for me, at the very least, the New Year brings the opportunity for a reset. A chance to pause, reflect and refocus.
Like so many others, 2023 chewed me up and spat me out into 2024. Writing this blog is the first opportunity I’ve had to pause and reflect on the last twelve months, and it has made me realise I want to explore some of the events in more detail. I will be writing more about it in upcoming posts, going into more detail about what happened and what I learned from it.
I can’t deny I am stepping into 2024 tentatively. I have seen how quickly things in life can be turned upside down- health, home environment, friendships and relationships. But I am also determined to reclaim the hopeless optimism I know is a core element of my being. I have big plans for this year, and I am well aware of how plans can change. But I am going to plan anyway.
Kate Kelsen 