In 2018 I made some exciting and (for me!) challenging theatre, and worked on some incredible projects with all sorts of amazing people. I took on slightly too many jobs and burnt myself out. I got to work with young people who completely shifted my outlook on the world. I received nearly fifty rejections for jobs and commissions and had several mini existential crises. I convinced a group of elders to play hide and seek with me and called it work. I doubted myself to the point where I seriously considered running away and starting again. I saw/heard/read more amazing art than I could possibly list and felt so lucky to know so many artists who constantly challenge me to think differently and be better. I felt jealous when other people were successful. I started new collaborations with people who make me excited to make stuff. I defined myself entirely by how well work was going. I started feeling like work was becoming a real career. I didn’t use my voice enough when big organisations let people down. I did a week of R&D with some brilliantly generous artists and it made me feel capable enough to keep making work at a point where I wasn’t sure if I could. I spent a lot of time worrying what the next job would be. I started to love myself. I killed at least six houseplants. I made some incredible new friends. Some of my closest friends moved away. I (finally) came out to my family. I got dumped and had to move house five times in two months. My friends hugged me, let me live in their homes, helped me move, sent me chocolate in the post, gave me wine and told me jokes. I moved into a flat on my own. I cried because the boiler broke and I couldn’t work out how to fix it and there was no hot water in November. I climbed mountains with my oldest friends. I replaced my favourite glittery pair of shoes. I got sad, furious and scared about the state of the world. I wavered between thinking theatre is the absolute best way to make change and feeling guilty that theatre is all I do. I went to a festival in Croatia and didn’t go to bed until 6am most days and it was somehow the most chilled out and life-affirming holiday ever. I should have gone to visit my Grandma more. I properly got into running. I injured myself running. I learnt that you need to exercise so you don’t injure yourself running. I spent a lot of time trying to understand and subsequently worrying about Brexit. I found myself looking out of a rainy bus window on the way home and thinking that, despite all the crap, I’m really glad I’m here.