2021 Recap
TL:DR 2021 was the worst year of my life!!
Look at us, who would’ve thought? 2021 is coming to an end and I’m still processing 2019. I was in San Francisco just yesterday, and I still feel like I’m going to have to clock into my hospo job tomorrow. 2021 has been fucked, and I can confidentally say it has been a defining moment in my character arc.
Before we jump into the absurdness that was 2021, I’d like to acknowledge my disappointment of not publishing a blog since September. For a while I had been working on my “Dating as a Jewish woman” post, but I just couldn’t find the motivation to write it. However I think I’ve finally found my angle, so keep an eye out for “Why I’m no longer tolerating dark humour in my relationships”! I have put that blog on the back burner for now, as I was keen to publish my yearly recap before the end of the year for obvious reasons. As a way of keeping consistent with my writing in the new year, I am promising myself that that blog will be published early January. For now, let’s dive into the highs and lows of my year (spoiler: there weren’t many highs). To spare you the depression however, I will not be addressing in great detail seasons three to six of the pandemic, you can read all about that here.
As I’m writing this I am on day 107 of my dating app detox. After a year of dating disappointments and watching an inspiring episode of the Netflix show “Love”, I finally decided to deactivate all my dating apps and I am currently attempting to make it to 365 days. I experienced a lull in my dating life this year. There was Irish Lewis who didn’t know where the clit was, there was Corey who was “just in a really busy” time of his life, and there was Dale who tried to mansplain my own lived experiences of anti-semitism (although the sex did have me coming back). 107 days into my detox and I never realised the amount of emotional energy I put into men. Dating became a chore, and the risk was never worth the reward. Another blog idea that never made its way to publication was “Why I’m no longer blogging about boys”, but then I realised that was basically my entire shtick and if I can't blog about boys then what else do I have to offer? It’s safe to say I have always been a bit boy-obsessed, like for fucks sake I dated a guy for a month in 2019 and he milked three blog posts out of me. WHAT MAN IS WORTH THREE BLOG POSTS? ESPECIALLY AN EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE ONE YOU DATED FOR A MONTH? Anyway, I’m not disappointed in the lack of progression in my love life this year, if anything, it’s an indicator that I have learnt a great deal of self respect. Long are the days of pining over men whose Instagram is just a breeding ground for their shitty 35mm photography and obscure interior decoration. I’m happy being single right now, and I’m proud that I’m able to go to sleep at night knowing that I haven’t triple texted a guy who will inevitably ghost me.
The big doozy this year was that I finally quit my job in hospo. I never thought I could grieve over a job like I did over McDonalds, but damn I was wrong. At some point at the start of the year, I began to notice I was becoming more of an outsider. It kinda sucks how quickly I got on the outs with everyone. It was really upsetting when I began to realise the people I had grown with in this company were slowly beginning to drift from me. Especially towards the end of my time there, I felt like a complete stranger on shift. I recognise at times I wasn’t the greatest friend and I tried to rectify those actions and apologise where an apology was due. I guess it wasn’t enough, and it is something I’m learning to accept. I wish I knew where it went wrong though, because this job was such a big part of my life and it truly fucking sucks that I can’t even be friends with the people who made my time there worth while. I very much value the friendships that I have been able to preserve, but I can’t help but be disheartened that most of the friendships I made in those three years have vanished to nothing but a simple like on Instagram. I know that I’m surrounded by people who love me and do care about me, but I miss my hospo friends. I miss feeling like I was a part of something. But who knows? Maybe I’m the common denominator. Maybe it’s time to do some difficult work and introspection.
That being said, friendships come and go, and navigating those friendships in your 20s is a challenge. I’m starting to feel like a lot of the friends I’ve made in the past couple of years have only held temporary positions. I guess as we grow older our lives change. We leave high school, we graduate from uni, we quit our day jobs, we move out of home, a disease runs rampant across the globe forcing us into isolation. Friendships are no longer bound by geography. In your 20’s you start making a conscious effort of who you surround yourself with. It’s not always a bad thing, it’s just the reality of growing older. Like I said, I value the friendships I have been able to maintain, and while a lot of them don’t look the same as they did in 2015, or even 2018, I am still grateful for those who have stuck around.
Onto the next shit show of 2021. The main goal behind quitting hospitality was to finally put aside time to focus on my career as a freelance photographer. I wanted to devote this time of unemployment to building my portfolio and expanding my network within the Melbourne creative community. I never thought I’d be quitting my job to work on my passion. I always thought I’d dive straight into the corporate world. However, that passion was soon squandered after a horrible experience I had with a freelance gig. This company shot me while I was down, and grasped at every inch of confidence I had left.
In July, a friend directed me to an influencer’s Instagram story. She was looking for a photographer to shoot some products for a skincare company. I thought; this was my time to shine, this is my time to officially dip my feet into the world of freelance. I reached out, showing her examples of my work and offering a rate of $300 for five hours (clearly undercharging, but it was a reflection of my experience and equipment). The shoot in total took 13 hours and I wasn’t paid for any of it. I was sent 28 products to photograph within my home (during lockdown season 5 might I add). For three days I slaved over these products, constantly referencing the Pinterest mood board they had provided, and manipulating the lighting to get a better shot. Constructive criticism focuses on providing constructive feedback to help you improve in specific areas, it should be offered in a friendly manner with good intentions.
Keywords here: constructive, improve, friendly, and good intentions. Yet this was the feedback I’d received:
“Didn’t hit the mark”
“The images were sub par”
“The team aren’t happy”
“We have lost a week’s worth of work”
“Product photography isn’t your preferred avenue”
“Extremely disappointed”
Given this feedback you would think I took a photo of actual shit smeared on a wall. I really don’t wish to channel the energy I felt at the time, but boy this sent me SPIRALING. The emails were just plain nasty and extremely uncalled for. Were my photos not crisp enough? Was the lighting a bit off? Maybe. Could I have gone back and edited them further to meet the client’s standards? Sure. However they didn’t even give me the chance to rectify this. This company ripped into me. They told me off for using too much product, when the brief specifically called for swatches. I was blamed for their Father’s Day launch being delayed, but if you ask me, if you’re outsourcing a photographer a week before a nationally recognised holiday, I don’t think I’m the one to blame. They even went as far as to have external photographers critique my work. Sorry? If you had the time to get other photographers to judge my work, WHY DIDN’T YOU GO WITH THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE? They were simply awful and refused to pay my invoice. I sought free legal advice, and for a while there I was genuinely considering taking this case to a small claims court. In the end, I decided to cut my losses and lose the $300 because it wasn’t worth the energy. Karma got it’s kiss for them however, and their Instagram account is now shadowbanned. I can’t even be mad anymore, their Instagram looks like it’s run by a Disney millennial who just discovered Canva.
For a long time after this god awful experience, my passion had escaped me. I felt useless. I had no motivation. I had quit my job to pursue my creativity as a career, and I had failed on the first try. For a while, organising shoots was anxiety inducing. From packing my bag of equipment right through to the editing process, I felt like an imposter. I didn’t feel like a photographer, I felt like a kid with a camera. I could barely bring myself to look over photos from a shoot. I became my biggest critic. I graduated from my degree two years ago. I had applied for over 100 jobs in my field, with only four progressing to the interview stage. I started to feel embarrassed. I got a degree and I had nothing to show for it. I try to remind myself, the only person I have to prove myself to is the young me and the future me. There’s no such thing as falling behind. Everyone’s journey looks different, and even though mine hasn’t played out the way I expected, I’m hopeful for the future.
This year my family pitched in to buy me a new camera, lens and all. This camera single-handedly gave me back the confidence I needed to start being creative again. The photos I take now could definitely give that awful skincare company a run for their money. Have you seen the photos I took at Molly and Emma’s wedding? THAT is what I am capable of, and I will not allow anyone to make me question my potential ever again.
To keep the positivity going, a couple of weeks ago I attended my first cheerleading class in over two years. I won’t lie, it’s an ego boost to come into the gym and have everyone welcome you back with open arms. Hearing your name being called from each direction, having your friends shout “ARE YOU COMING BACK?!” with joy, it’s a great feeling. Alongside the obvious health benefits of doing cheerleading, the sense of community is really what has me coming back. I’m excited to make my official debut next year on level 4 non tumble! Not cheering for two years was really difficult for me. I didn’t fill that void with alternative exercise, and it took a toll on my body. I’m trying to regain confidence in this new body, but that’s a story for another day. I will admit it was hard seeing old friends and teammates progress to elite athletes during the pandemic, knowing I could’ve been alongside them if I had continued cheering in 2020. But I am so proud of every single one of them, and they only motivate me to get back into the sport and work my strength up back to how it was pre-pandemic. I can’t beat myself up too much though, I was out of the game for two years, and our bodies fluctuate. All I can do is look forward to the coming season, and I’m so excited to be back in the gym after two years!
If I’m being completely candid, life has been difficult lately. I moved back in with my parents due to my housemate’s inability to communicate without using aggression, I'm grieving the loss of friendships, my passion for creativity is fleeting, I don’t have a stable job, and I didn’t shower for three days after Christmas. I’m struggling but I'm pushing through. It’s okay to move back in with your parents, and to be quite honest it’s probably the most financially smart decision you can make in your 20s. Anyone who hates on that is probably just jealous that you’re getting your meals cooked, your clothes washed, and your floors vacuumed, while they pay $300 a week for a five bedroom one bath townhouse in Northcote with a dilapidated courtyard and a random house cat who pees everywhere. I believe everything will fall into place. I will find a job I love, a house I belong in, and friendships I feel fulfilled in.
2022 isn’t going to be a new chapter, it’s going to be a new book in an epic never ending series.