Tuesday, January 3, 2012

On Resolutions (v. 2012)

Last year I made the first resolution proper of my adult life. You can find it detailed here.

I was pretty sure of my resolution. Not that I was excited about it so much as I knew I needed it. I knew it was the best thing I could do for myself with 365 days. So, just in case you don’t feel the need to read up on last year’s resolution (even if you did, it’s lengthy), let’s sum it up:

In 2011 I wanted to…
1. Be single and fabulous.
2. Be in the best shape of my life.
3. Find the perfect white gold earrings.
4. Clean the kitchen before bed.
5. Cover firewood before it starts raining.
6. Wear my favorite underwear on a Tuesday.

Now, let’s go through these quickly with the results added, shall we?

1. Be single and fabulous. Oops. One of two isn’t bad. Is it?
2. Be in the best shape of my life. DONE! Thanks, Tony Horton!
3. Find the perfect white gold earrings. Done: Turns out I needed to only mention this one to my mom before going home for Christmas. She considered it her personal mission. Thanks, Mom!
4. Clean the kitchen before bed. I'm going to need you to be more specific about which night.
5. Cover firewood before it starts raining. Definitely not. Same firewood is still outside. Probably wet right now.
6. Wear my favorite underwear on a Tuesday. Done: Check posting date.

So… looking at my year in review, I don’t think I did too poorly. Progress not perfection; isn’t that the saying?

I keep my kitchen clean for the most part; I choose my underwear based on whatever-the-hell-I-want; I’m in damn good shape (Shut up, knee!); and I sport earrings that my tender lobes aren’t allergic to. So what if my firewood is soaked?

And as far as the big, bad resolution that grounded all of these minor resolutions… I think I did alright by that one too. I set out to be single and fabulous and that didn’t quite work.

I didn’t turn down dates and I let myself get attached. A couple of times. But I also listened to myself. My heart, yes, sure. But more importantly, I listened to myself. The part of me that thinks a few steps ahead. The part of me that knows who I am and what I want. The part of me that sees myself and everyone around me as flawed beings. The realist who remains a reluctant, yet hopeless romantic. And, because I listened to myself, I was able to navigate more than a few relationships in 2011. Some of them romantic, most of them platonic.

Now, just a few days into 2012, I can boast possibly the best relationships I’ve ever had with my family. Built on honesty, trust, love, and so much laughter, our bonds haven’t ever been so strong.

I can tell you all about dear friends who’ve opened up their homes and their lives to me and my craziness, becoming chosen family. Give me a minute and I’ll pull out baby pictures and tell you about recent milestones with more pride than I thought possible for me to feel about someone else's child.

I can tell you about my career and how having confidence in myself has allowed me to reach students in ways I hadn’t before.

Thanks to my willingness to engage, to feel, to try, and to communicate, I can tell you about my boyfriend. About the woman who is everything I wanted but didn’t know I could have.

When I found last year’s resolution post accidentally tonight I thought, “Ha! Didn’t keep any of those!” But that’s not true at all, is it? I may not be single, and I guess some might consider that the main event of the resolution… but I sure don’t. What I read in last year’s resolution post is a desire for confidence, independence, and happiness.

Have I achieved those things? Certainly. In ways, at least. I’ll not pretend that I’m perfectly confident, independent, and happy all days and in all ways. But… I’ve come a long way.

It’s now less about what comes at me and more about what I give out. Shoot. Maybe I’m growing up.

Anyway… my resolution for 2012 is similar to 2011’s with one adjustment.

In 2012 I want to be healthy and fabulous.

This means… seeing about getting this damn knee fixed.

Keep me honest, friends. I’m already dreading the appointment. That I have yet to make.