I was sitting here and trying to understand why I felt such an ache with the quickly approaching New Year’s Eve, and I think it finally dawned on me why it was feeling so heavy on my heart.

My longing for a genuine and authentic connection intensified around this holiday because of my own experience with this in the past.

I’ve been in no contact with my last ex for many years now, and I have been fully and completely single since then. It was fine for the first little while. I had to recover and heal from the trauma and Complex-PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). I didn’t want a relationship because I needed to heal the parts of me that kept being drawn to and attracting the same kind of narcissistic people.

Since then, I have spent a few lovely new years on my own—some of them with good friends and some also with family, and they have all been more than okay! I have some nice memories from many of those moments, including going to Nathan Phillips Square with my arm in a cast.

But this year, things are feeling a little different. I turned my life toward a new track and parted ways with some pretty big things in the last couple of years. I am recovering from severe burnout that doesn’t seem to be getting better, and lastly, I am trying to cope with the news of certain things in the best possible way that I can. I’m in a place where I suddenly feel really alone for the first time ever.

Cue the arrival of New Year’s Eve, the most “romantical” time of the year where couples meet, kiss, and profess their love or all of the above.

I’ve never been someone who felt “without” when it came to love. I was good at vibing alone. I’ve always naturally been a bit of a loner and it felt okay that way. I wasn’t even interested in dating when I was younger and yet seemed to always get snagged by the “bad guy” types.

Because of this, though, my last memories of New Year’s with partners have been pretty awful. With my last partner, it felt like things would always end up in fighting and crying.

New Year’s Eve suddenly feels like this stark reminder of what I never had and what I actually may never have in this lifetime.

I have the tendency to ruminate on things more than I would like, to no fault of my own. My brain works differently from others and I tend to overthink and overanalyze every single detail, and this is usually on autopilot. I don’t know how to operate any other way; it’s something I’m trying to learn or most probably just accept. The knowledge that I have now leads me to believe that the likelihood of me finding partnership that is a good fit for me is very, very slim to none. And the ache that I feel in my heart with knowing that I may never experience a healthy and “good” love with another suddenly feels more present and devastating than ever before.

I’ve been doing a lot of healing work on healing trauma and changing my patterns over the years. It’s been really incredible and so helpful for many things. As a hypnotherapist, I’ve even developed programs to help others to heal those things and change their patterns. However, learning a few months ago about being autistic feels like all of the plans have been thrown out the window. It doesn’t mean a death sentence to learn such things, but I can’t help but think that in a way it does.

Because the reality is this: it means that I simply cannot “heal away” the patterns that make me who I am, especially in relation to love and partnership. And the difficulty in finding partnership and connection will always be there for me, and because of this, it can potentially make it nearly impossible to ever find a suitable partner.

This is my first New Year’s I will be spending with the awareness of everything that I now know.

This is my first New Year’s I will be spending alone with the weight of all of that.

And that stark reminder suddenly feels much more deafening than before.

Coming to terms with all of this and grieving the life that I might never have has weighed tremendously upon my heart in a way that feels like I might not actually ever recover from it.

And maybe that will one day all change. And maybe it won’t.

But for now, in this moment, I will spend New Year’s on my own, mourning the loss of what was to be of me and holding space for that.

I don’t think life is about being fair or not fair; I think it just is what it is. And we just get the hand that we were dealt. We can change some of that and shift a lot of our reality, but it doesn’t mean that we forget our pain and grief. I think life is learning how to move along the path whilst learning how to hold our pain and grief in a way that is loving, compassionate, and kind and find the best way to carry on until we no longer can.

I cannot end this year without saying that I am grateful for so many things because despite all of this, I am still much grateful for a lot. I feel gratitude for so much; I really do. I am lucky for a lot of reasons and feel fortunate to have had some of the wonderful experiences and opportunities that I have had.

However, I will also allow myself to end this year with my heavy heart and try and find a way to carry this part of me, in the most raw, authentic, and loving way into the coming new year with the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe I’ll be wrong and, maybe, this isn’t it for me. I guess in time we will see.

Happiest New Year’s to everyone. I wish I could end this year with a more positive and hopeful note but instead I’ll say this:

I wish you nothing but the most authentic joy, love, and peace in your heart and in your spirit for the year to come. And even if you are moving onto the next chapter of 2024 with grief, sorrow, and pain in your heart, know that there is space for that here for you as well.

Remember that your pain carries the vibration of some of the most beautiful parts of you and that there is a love that resides inside of grief that rivals no other.

Happy New Year and much love to you all.

Giuseppina

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