I finally got stung by a bee. For years, I’ve been mortified of this very moment, ever since I watched “My Girl” and sobbed through the tragic bee sting scene. That was the first movie that ever made me cry, and it left an indelible mark on my psyche.

Being allergic to just about everything, I’ve carried two EpiPens like a safety blanket. The fear was real, folks. I envisioned every bee as a tiny airborne harbinger of doom, buzzing around with sinister intent.

Then it happened. The dreaded sting. Panic set in. My life flashed before my eyes. I mentally rehearsed the instructions on my EpiPen, ready for the worst. But…nothing. No swelling, no anaphylaxis, just a bit of pain and a red bump. It turns out, I’m not allergic after all. Wow. Whew.

I’d like to say that this revelation has freed me from my bee-related anxiety, but let’s be honest, I’m still not planning on befriending any bees anytime soon. Still, it’s nice to know that I won’t have to go all Macaulay Culkin every time I see a yellow and black blur.

This year has been a series of unfortunate events, to say the least. It’s like the universe decided to test my resilience in the most bizarre ways. But discovering that I’m not allergic to bee stings is a small victory, a sliver of luck amidst the chaos.

So here’s to facing fears, surviving bee stings, and hoping that the rest of the year brings fewer surprises of the painful variety. Cheers to luck, resilience, and the relief of not having to use those EpiPens—at least for bee stings!