2021 was a tremendous year for me. Different battles to fight. Both on the outside and the inside. And cooking went on the back burner. I imagine myself sitting with my girl, telling her how I survived the year. An unplanned pregnancy, my mother’s cancer treatment, raising a toddler with different views at home, coming face to face with my insecurities–there’s been so much on my mind. And, there is COVID-19. Can’t even begin with that one.

I came to live with my parents during my pregnancy, with my husband and my toddler. The toughest day that I can remember was the first day of getting covid. I was in my eight, and the acidity almost killed me. But then I survived. 

What I can’t get over with is the fact that my mum had to undergo so much. Mammogram, chemotherapy, hair loss, her own insecurities. I can feel what she’s going through, and it really makes me want to think, this could be it. Life is so uncertain. It can change in a second. But she survived it. And she even defeated covid in the middle of her chemotherapy. Damn. 

So, here I am, telling you how I struggled last year. And I’m not ready to look at the bright side. Anxiety only grows deeper. But here’s the magical part.

I was recently blessed with a daughter. Hell, I always dreamt that. And I have survived my ten years of marriage. How, I don’t know. Mom is getting her health back. It’s wonderful when I see her name on my phone, five times a day.

But, I don’t want to cook. Writing is easier than cooking. Those kitchen bottles bring no curiosity in me. I don’t want pasta. I just want to survive this journey of motherhood. And keep a bit of my mum’s recipes on my bedside table. And I shall be all right.

Here are a few snippets from the posts I shared on my page. I started writing these tiny posts when I was down with COVID.

That’s about it for 2021. I hope you combat 2022 with a fierce passion to bring a new ray of hope in your life. May God show mercy.