I could easily start off this post with a resolution or a promise to remake my self in 2017 but I’m coming to think that doing so may actually be the very thing rendering me from success.
A note to myself:
I’ve been making new years resolutions for years and really exceeding no where on a personal level, besides developing a better understanding of my style and learning how to properly wear makeup. Twice a year an opportunity to remake myself occurs.
1) the start of the school year (fuelled by preparation in the summer)
2) the New Year (fuelled by preparation during the winter break).
Two instances rooted in and fairly limited to the elementary/ high school days of my youth.
I’ve referenced a photo below in order to give you an idea of the degree of these annual initiatives to recreate myself. On one specific summer leading into the first day of Grade eleven, my two best friends and I launched “Project Hot Bitch”, a literal list of the things that would testify to our ultimate improvements for the new school year and something I seemed to have taken more seriously then either of them. Refer to exhibit A.
Given the example, you now have a small glimpse into what I see, which is a long held habit of shoving insecurities beneath the surface and replacing them with superficial goals. In doing this, I’ve gone through phases of wanting to change my appearance entirely to trying to “make the best of what I’ve got”. Or in other words, shaping myself as per the advisement of others. As I’m sure many can relate, this has led me to question which parts of myself are truly original, since really, everything I wear is based on someone else’s idea of fashionable, whether that be friends, social media, or television. This cycle has been easily sustained over the years by the repetitive schedule of grade school, where without fail, the same pressures to improve existed each year. Not only academically, but socially. 2016 however was different, though only because it had to be, and not to any credit of my own. This past year felt a lot like a rollar coaster.
I started 2016, to the very second, with a kiss, which makes sense since love is clearly both the reason for and the bane of my existence. Going up the roller coaster.
In the following months I spiraled dangerously in a way I had never done so before. I was heartbroken, barely managed to submit my University application on time, stopped playing soccer, and graduated high school by the minimum number of credits with a near fail. First drop.
By that point it was summer, and I found myself falling in love again, which meant I could finally breath, at the expense of losing one of my best friends. We’ll call this the part of the ride that loops.
Everything felt justified then because of how perfect the summer was. I was caught in bliss between knowing I was done high school forever and ignoring any thoughts I had about University starting in the fall. Cruising.
Then I left for school and It shocked me to say the least, since I’d spent the summer living in a world fuelled by love and freedom instead of preparing. It took me about two months to really settle myself into a new life and by then, I was heart broken all over again. Second drop.
Since then I’ve really just been waiting for the new year, as is my nature. The part of the roller coaster that slows the ride down before it can stop.
Saying that, I’ve come full circle, or full year really, for to think of the year as a circle is evidently an unhealthy habit. 2016 introduced me to an entirely new life which means that 2017 is all about that. A new life.
The only difference is that “my new life” isn’t rattled with resolutions. No immediate hair revamping. No big travel plans for the near future. And definitely, no new love interests, (at least not until I start collecting myself). So here’s to 2017 minus the resolutions; learning to love myself and learning to be whole on my own.