After nine years of living in South Korea, I moved back to Canada for good in 2006. I’d grown tired of always being perceived as a foreigner, and as a gay man I felt increasingly uncomfortable as my life came under greater scrutiny the longer I remained a “bachelor.” It was time to go home, time for a fresh start, and I looked to the future with excitement and optimism. What I didn’t expect was how difficult the subsequent years in Canada would be. I had not expected the extent to which I’d experience “reverse culture shock,” how financially difficult it would be, how deeply unhappy and, most surprising of all, how every bit of a foreigner I would feel in Canada. In short, those were “bad” years. And then I remember one Pride weekend, as I was negotiating my way through the crowded gay village in Toronto, when I heard a woman shout: “Yes! 2011 is the best year ever!” What news had she received that added to what sounded like an already wonderful year? I envied her, I remember thinking. Not that my own life by that point was all bad, but it certainly wasn’t as jubilant as hers. It was a year full of the usual ups and downs, just like any other. And although I can’t remember any specific high- or low-lights off-hand, I do recall resolving to stop dubbing years as either “good” or “bad,” a resolution that has unfettered me of a lot of unnecessary expectation and disappointment.