Here’s my first bold admission of 2023: I don’t celebrate New Year’s Eve and I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I’m the Anti-New Year’s / Anti-Resolution girl. Kind of like Taylor Swift’s ubiquitous “Anti-Hero,” but older and less glamorous.
This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows me IRL or reads this blog on the regular. I stopped celebrating New Year’s Eve a long time ago, and not just because I have kids. It’s just not my jam. I’m too old, too tired, too anxious, and too introverted.
I also don’t make New Year’s resolutions. Haven’t in years. Resolutions feel like a setup for failure. I prefer to have goals and develop habits to reach those goals, one step at a time. It feels more attainable and realistic.
But I do write the obligatory New Year’s blog post — partly to justify my position against making resolutions. [You can reread posts from the past five years here (2022), here (2021), here (2020), here (2019), and here (2018).]
Of course, I think all my posts are phenomenal (gotta believe in yourself, right?!), but last year I really nailed it: I adopted my friend Emily’s motto, and planned to just do my best. No more, no less.
Little did I know how repeating that mantra every day would be my saving grace on my darkest days.
2022 was a shitty year for me — and not because I turned 50. I was in complete survival mode, dealing with the physical and mental effects of toxic mold exposure and the subsequent detox process, a massive and expensive home remediation project, and borderline depression. It sucked. A lot. I complained, I cried, I cursed, and I struggled. I withdrew from just about everything and everyone. I isolated myself, but I never gave up. Not even when I wanted to — which was often.
As I write this post today, January 3, 2023 (which, btw, is a big deal for me, given the fact that my New Year’s posts historically haven’t reached the masses until the second or third week of January — so, YAY ME!), I am mold-free and starting to feel like my old self again. I still have a long way to go to get back to where I want to be, but I’m also nowhere near where I was. And for that, I am grateful.
I’m not declaring that 2023 will be my best year yet, nor am I pledging to be 100% by the end of the year. I’ll sure I’ll still struggle. Your girl has more than one issue, after all; toxic mold was just a new one for me. But I’m prepared for what lies ahead because (1) I’m a fighter and tenacious AF, (2) I believe in myself, and (3) my dad and my bestie gave me tools to remind me just how badass I am.
2023 is going to be better because I’m in the right mindset to make it happen. But to keep me humble, my mom sent me these more realistic “mood” post-it notes. RUDE! But also, she’s not wrong. I think these was made just for me. A tiger doesn’t change its stripes, after all. I am who I am, and I own it.
Some come at me, 2023. I’m ready for whatever you’ve got — as long as it’s not more mold.
Happy New Year, everyone!
-LJDT
