Reality Check: I don't make New Year Resolutions

but maybe just this once.

I haven’t always been a glass-half-full kind of person. If you were to ask anyone who only knew me in college, they probably wouldn't believe I’d be calling myself one now. Yet, here we are. Hi!

2024 was the most incredible and one of the most challenging years of my life. I think there’s merit to the idea of your frontal lobe developing because I woke up on April 4th, a sentient and fully-formed human for the very first time. It wrecked me, honestly. If quarter-life crises exist, I dove head-first into one with nothing but my Moleskine journal and a new therapist. My (now husband!!) sat up through that night with me as I tried to make sense of the latest thoughts on my career, relationships, our upcoming wedding, and my deep longing to become a better person. Things were starting to happen in the lives of people I cared the most about that I couldn’t do anything to stop. It was as if I were suddenly dropped into an apocalyptic nightmare; only I had no idea what I was running from or where to go. I didn’t even feel justified to be floundering when I could point to others who objectively had harder shit going on.

About a month later, my fourteen-year-old brother was diagnosed with an extremely rare bladder tumor, and the prognosis was grim. Days became weeks into months of looking for answers, and with each new advancement in his medical journey, I became acutely aware of the cracks in the foundation of my time in childhood grief therapy. As it turns out, you can convince yourself you’ve healed from anything as long as you ice out your subconscious. Just keep her at arm’s length; she’ll never know what you’re hiding from her. People tried to ask me about it pretty frequently but I didn’t want to talk about it.

Losing my sister many moons ago resurfaced in a blazing fury. We were running from a hitman who would appear in the weirdest places. Looking for a wedding photographer—what if he isn’t in the pictures? Ordering ice cream at the local shop—this is his favorite kind. Part of me felt like a fraud as we continued to go about life, but he did, too. Of course he was worried and tired, but his priorites remained those of a teenage boy. And so did his humor—albiet it dark and a bit brooding. My little brother taught me a lot about facing hardships with levity, and he doesn’t even know it. He doesn’t read my substack either, but maybe one day he will.

He’s all good now, by the way. The tumor ended up being localized, and easy to surgically remove. He was pronounced totally clear a couple of weeks ago.

This year I had some come-to-Jesus moments with some dear friends—one I think of in particular. There we sat, pasta getting cold on our plates and rain starting to pour as we cleared the gunk out of the pipes of our relationship. Was it fun? No. But, oh, so necessary. We are closer than ever, because of the difficulty we faced head-on: not in spite of it. I wouldn’t trade it for a second.

I also got married. To the love of my life. Allan is… well, let’s just say I’m very lucky. They say your wedding day is the best day of your life, and they’re kind of right. We spent so much time on the planning, but looking back we could have had a bottle of champange and a camera and had just as much fun. So many of our friends and family members cherished that night with us, and I can’t wait to share the photos with some more details when we get them. There is so much to say about that night, but I kind of like holding the pieces close to my chest for now.

In 2024 I watched people break and wished I could pick up the pieces. Then, I watched them overcome some pretty insane shit. I learned that sometimes putting others before yourself time and time again is actually a selfish thing to do—I’m still working on this. I trained at a Los Angeles acting studio twice. I spent time with friends and family. I started publishing my writing. I sat up nights during some pretty dark mental moments. I experienced the most pure form of platonic love at my Michigan bachelorette because my dearest friends hit it out of the park. Actually, my cousin had each woman write me a letter that I’ve read and SOBBED over on multiple occasions. Each individual letter was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.

So, what am I getting at?

This is all a roundabout way of saying I used to look at the world like it was out to get me. My second year in Chicago was basically vampiric—I was constantly screaming down dark hallways while unscrewing the lightbulbs myself. Sometimes I still find the bulbs shattered in the corners of dimly-lit rooms when the pieces stick in the soles of my feet.

Nobody can be happy all the time, that’s unrealistic. I’m stealing a few lines from another substack writer whom I love (see Things that Only Happen to Me): “Even if it’s realistic to be positive — and yes, things probably will get better — consider this: you don’t look at a happy person and say, ‘Well, enjoy it while it lasts. You’ll feel worse soon. This is all temporary! This happiness too shall pass.’”

This is so true, I’d never say that to someone. Except I say it to myself All. The. Time. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop for years. The universe has to be out of shoes, I think? But, I’m ready to stop doing that. I’m putting down the umbrella. It’s still going to rain, but I’m sick of staring at the sky for the sake of being right when it does. Let me be wrong and absolutely soaked for a change. I am LOVED, dammit. I won’t live in fear of losing that love anymore, even if it means having the unpopular opinion.

I have some cool ideas for this year. I’m kind of aiming for some crazy shit. Let’s see what happens.

So… if those are resolutions, sue me.