Being shielded from pain made for a great childhood, but learning to manage pain will make for a great adulthood. I look forward to being a grown-up.

Everyone has been talking about the odd ways in which this year had disappointed, fascinated, and disgusted them. Most of the time, it’s kind of a joke online. 2016 killed pop culture icons, nominated an unqualified leader for one of the world’s most powerful countries, brought long-standing humanitarian crises more attention, saw the UK leave the EU, and just sucked in general.

This year, I went through a lot personally. I spent New Years’ Eve at church — as did most Ghanaians, it’s our thing. Before the year started, I had a break down. I was crying, feeling anxious. I had to get out of the building and hide behind my family’s car. My mother and sister were confused and annoyed. Why was I so extra? “I have such a bad feeling about this year.” Was my only response. And I know it didn’t make sense. But I couldn’t shake that feeling all night, and the next day.

I got my heart broken for the first time in my life this January, and I thought that was it: that was why I hated 2016. But, since then, so much has happened that I sometimes forget about that heartbreak entirely.

It started with my mother passing away in June. Four days after my 21st birthday, two days before the party we were going to throw. Just 20 days after she had turned 51. She had been terminally ill for years, and I had no idea until it was too late.

Imagine the confusion and the trauma surrounding a revelation like that. Imagine the amount of growing up I had to do internally, just to survive something like that. Losing my best friend and my deepest connection in my family, I thought it was going to kill me. The loss made every disappointment from friends and family even more heartbreaking than they would have been originally. And I knew I was someone who dealt with pressure and pain in unhealthy ways, often turning away from people, keeping to myself, and spiralling into deep depression.

My culture has a funny way of dealing with death. The pressure to stop crying started the day after it happened. The “are you taking care of your father”s the next week—many people believe he was the only one who truly felt loss. After a month, it was all about me “replacing” her, as her oldest daughter. It was as if everyone I needed to be comforted by wanted me to feel worse than I already did. (Not their intent, I’m sure). I barely handled this well, but I have somehow managed to get through it, and the scars will start to heal.

2016 was definitely my worst year, personally. But it has catapulted me into my future. I look at 2017 with the kind of hope I haven’t felt in a very long time. I’m proud of this because there were many moments when I thought I would never feel hope again. I’ve now seen that; yes, Bad Things will happen to me, too. Not just friends of friends, or people in the news. And even I, the softest person I know, can handle Bad Things. At the very least, I can learn to navigate them.

Being shielded from pain made for a great childhood, but learning to manage pain will make for a great adulthood. I look forward to being a grown-up.