New Year, Same Me
I’m not a New Year’s person. I don’t believe in resolutions. While I see the value in “turning over a new leaf,” I don’t believe we need a whole new year in order to do that. I think every day is an opportunity to work on something you want, change something you don’t like or be a better person.
The holidays are hard for me; ask my closest friends and they may tell you I’m a bit of a bah-humbugger. I decorate the house and put up a tree for my kids and my family, because that’s what you do (I’m also the girl that takes down all the Christmas décor on December 26). Christmas and all of it’s obligations bring a lot of stress and pressure to a single mom (and all parents, in general) because we want Christmas to be everything our kids want. But if I had it my way, my Christmas décor would be very minimal, maybe a table top tree; a friendly reminder of the season but not all up in your face about it. I’m also not a “gifts” person: I’ve been trained to buy myself what I want, so I rarely need anything. I don’t mind giving the perfect gift, but I definitely do not like to receive gifts. Gifts doesn’t even register on my Love Languages. So Christmas, which has turned so commercial and is often an excuse to over-consume and load up on crap, just turns me off. I can’t wait until my kids are old enough to appreciate the gifts of life and health and happiness. Christmas will mean so much more to me then.
New Years is the same way I suppose. It’s a big build up to the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. But I prefer to spend those moments in quiet contemplation, not a raucous celebration of over-indulgence. I’ve just never been a believer of going hard one night just to try to turn it around the next day. Perhaps it’s just consistency that I like instead.
Aside from the pressure of finding my kids gifts they’ll be happy with, and the months+ of buildup (Christmas comes earlier every year, I swear), by the time January 1 rolls around, I’ve had enough. Not to mention this cold/flu that I’ve had since December 23: that can fuck off.
Last night, I went to bed around 10pm. I woke up to fireworks at midnight, fell back asleep and woke up at 4am. I decided to sit in my quiet contemplation at that time. I thought about this year and the ups and downs (more downs that ups). I thought about what I want for this year, and was met with some confusion. I know exactly what I want, but I get paralyzed by how I’m going to get there. The steps I need to take to get me going in the right direction; the right job, the right time, the right friends, the right resources. It’s like I’m trying to fortune-tell my near future. And it is exhausting.
So for this year, I’ve decided to let go. What will be will be. I’m tired of thinking about it all. I’m ready for everything to just happen to me the way it is intended. No resolutions that I falsely believe I can control; no promises to lose weight or eat better or make more money. I’m just here to receive. I decided that I need to release my expectations of people (especially) as well as outcomes. Disappointment is born of unmet expectations. I just can’t do it anymore. The amount of grief and disappointment and sadness that I’ve experienced in 2019 is not what I want to experience from here on out. And the best way I know how to stop that from happening again is to let it all go. Living in the present, taking one day at a time. That’s my answer.
Give it to me, Universe. I’m ready.