Remember when we all said 2012 was a rough year? I remember being 14 years old and scrolling through Facebook at excessively long status updates about how terrible it was. And 2016? Didn’t we say 2019 wasn’t great either? 

There’s always a breath of relief when a year culminates. We’re always so excited to move on, set resolutions for ourselves, search for improvements and look for the silver lining in the new year. Everything feels fresh, like a new backpack, but one that has straps wide enough for the entirety of your re-invented self. 

I, too, became overly obsessed with becoming something new, as if my December self was so much worse than my January, and that a month’s difference will make me as pretty as a model, as happy as a child or as kind as someone who devotes their life to philanthropy. 

Yet it’s been a full year now since Chapman classes first shut down due to COVID-19, and that year was different for countless reasons — reasons we don’t need to regurgitate. The pandemic undoubtedly changed everyone. But change is often hard to see, and it wasn’t until I read my journal entries that I really got a macro view of this year. 

March 18, 2020

On this date, my journal entry read: “I currently haven’t left my house in three weeks now. Things really started to shut down in Los Angeles about a week ago. (It’s really hard to keep track, it’s really felt longer.) ... And the latest news is that this could be 18 MONTHS.”

Eighteen months. What once seemed like an unfathomable number has turned into a hopeful one. I sure hope COVID-19 is only around for 18 months. 

In March, my world turned upside down as everyone’s did. I went grocery shopping maskless because our leaders said it was fine to do so at the time. I got sick with a fever while watching news of a mysterious virus spreading, and due to depleted resources in testing at the time, I’ll never know whether it was just the flu or COVID-19. I went to my first virtual birthday party, started binge-watching “Schitt’s Creek” and learned a TikTok dance to “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd, proceeding to play it on loop for a month.

April 2020

Former President Donald Trump said this whole virus thing would be gone by Easter. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. Instead, I spent Easter Sunday quarantining with my family and dying my hair with leftover Easter egg dye because I thought, “The world is ending, so who cares?”

I stopped counting the days that had passed. I settled into online classes, found hobbies like baking, crafting of any kind and planting. I was obsessed with plants for a minute there until I realized that my so called “green thumb” was more like a murder weapon for all the plants I accidentally killed along the way.

May 2020 

The pandemic-ridden world still felt fresh; masks an uncomfortable novelty and the future in limbo. I, for one, thought things would get better over summer. Settling deeper into the impending sense of doom, I began rewatching “New Girl” for comfort and gave into the hypnotic pull of TikTok. Whipped coffee and banana bread tutorials got me through some of the tough days.

I started to discover creative outdoor activities that I could do while staying safe from COVID-19: outdoor movie nights in lieu of large indoor theaters, going to parks or beaches and learning how to skateboard. I got stung by a stingray at one of my masked beach ventures, which honestly was the most exciting thing that has happened to me since March 2020.

June, July and August 2020

I’m blending these months together because summer was one foggy haze of lazy days at home with no Zoom class to log onto or plans to attend. It sometimes felt nice having so much free time — until you remembered why that was and got depressed all over again. It was a vicious cycle.

This season brought more baking, more “New Girl,” starting an Instagram book club and falling down the rabbit hole that is Chloe Ting’s YouTube channel. Inevitably, I embarked on my first big “quarantine project,” renovating a vintage camping trailer. 

September 2020

By this point, we were all well into online school. If you were in California at this time, this was when everything was on fire and it truly felt like the world was ending. I also grew one year older and celebrated with family — thankfully, I was turning 22, not having to celebrate my 21st over Zoom like some of my friends.

October 2020

At least Halloween was much more fun this year than normal. I kind of loved staying home and getting drunk on Halloween cocktails with my parents rather than wearing an uncomfortable costume, staying out late or standing on a street corner in the cold, wondering where the next party would be.

November 2020

This month was a joke for all of us, right? Just kidding … unless ...

December 2020

Wait, no, seriously the coronavirus wouldn’t still be wreaking havoc by Christmas, right? That’s it, I’m dying my hair platinum.

January 2021

And it’s still here. This hit especially hard on New Year’s Eve, as I held a speaker playing “Auld Lang Syne” in one hand, the other holding a glass of champagne. I remember resting my cheek against my cold, glass back door with my family on the opposite side of the glass, fireworks booming like thunder all around me. Happy New Year!

February 2021

Life started to feel normal. I fully settled in and stopped trying to understand it. It’s my life and I couldn’t spend it wondering or worrying. 

March 2021

We’ve come full circle. I’m finishing my senior year. I’m applying to jobs. I’m moving on. By no means am I ignoring this pandemic, but I am accepting it as part of how I live my life now. My classes are online, I have to wear a mask everywhere I go, grocery runs are brief and I only place mobile orders when I go to Starbucks. I over-wash and sanitize my hands after I touch anything, and I only see friends on FaceTime or from a six-foot distance in person. 

I haven't hugged my best friend in over a year. But, even after an entire year since the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus a pandemic March 11, I haven't gotten COVID-19. So maybe I’m doing something right.