Two thousand and sixteen.
Phew! You have been a doozy of a year.
I know it’s all so terribly obvious of me to be talking about 2016 just as we’ve tiptoed into the final days, but this is who I am. I play and replay everything over in my head, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out where I went wrong, and what I can do better next year.
Back when I was in my early twenties and oh so lost as to who I was and where I was going, I would talk to older women (forties, fifties) who all said that their thirties were some of their best times. Their kids weren’t babies anymore, they were married, settled… but most importantly, they knew who they were.
I know a lot more now, at 32, than I ever did at 21. Like that I can socialize as well as anyone else, but I have to balance it out with alone time. Like that karma is a real thing. Like that if I stop creating, stop writing, I’ll cease to be myself. Like that I can’t eat the way I used to. Like that sometimes capturing a photo of that perfect moment where you see yourself in your kid is all it takes to turn a day around.
2016 has been a tough year, but those are the years that teach us the most, aren’t they. The days push our boundaries, teach us just how far we can go. And I like to think we’re better off for it. We’ve become stronger, smarter versions of ourselves.
I want to be a stronger, smarter version of myself. The kind of woman who is more patient and kind, who picks up her camera more and stays off her phone. The kind of woman who is engaged. The kind of woman who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants. The kind of woman who enjoys the middle of things, not just the beginning or end. The kind of woman who isn’t constantly comparing herself to everyone else. The kind of woman who writes about her life, the real, the right now, instead of just fiction.
The kind of woman who knows she is not less than.
She is simply doing the best she can.