I’d describe myself as a realist. In the past, friends have described me as a pessimist, probably because I tend to err on the side of the very worst thing happening. When it’s come to 2020, my realism has been working very hard, and my friends have joined me in that. They don’t call me a pessimist any more, because actually there’s been very little to be optimistic about. It has been one thing after another. So many little hits of pain and disappointment.
When it came to the US election, though, I was hopeful. The part of me that has always adjusted to expecting and preparing myself for the worst was dormant. I even surprised myself. We’ve all had such a hard time, and so consistently, that bad news had become predictable. Some part of me knew that we had to have one positive outcome from this year (or maybe even two, with the possible new vaccine breakthrough). And I think that some part of all of us, whether or not we live in the US, or have friends or family there, pinned on it a sense of life, on the whole, getting better. In some way, perhaps the US election ended up symbolising the light at the end of a tunnel we never thought we’d emerge from.
