For those of you who read Life + Nonsense semi-regularly, (shoutout to my immediate family!), you know that recently I’ve resolved to look like I give a f*ck. I use the word resolve, because although I’m about 2 months late, dressing well is my 2017 New Years Resolution – I am a New Years Resolutioner. And frankly; I’m damn proud of it.
Growing up I remember hearing about New Years resolutions. Straining to hear the hushed reply to the question; “what’s your New Years Resolution going to be this year?” I was always a nosy kid, dying to know what people hated about themselves, so much so that they offered their last hope of remedy to the universe – an audible; “help me…” But alas, that makes me sound like a sociopath, when really, as a child I would hear those prayers and wonder what the big deal was. So nosy, so innocent.
When I entered high school I started to make resolutions of my own; but I would never share them – just in case they didn’t happen of course, (god forbid we be held accountable to our broken promises). Resolutions ungrounded in rhyme or reason; a brand new high school student who wants to lose 20lbs in 2006… What even is 20lbs? How much do I even weigh? Quantitative measures of progress were still nearly a decade away for me.
As I continued to grow up, my resolutions became fewer – frankly I don’t think I made a single New Years Resolution until 2016, and I wasn’t the only one abstaining. It seems that even now people are making them less and less, or at least keeping them private. We wouldn’t want to fail in front of our peers, goodness no. Why is it that we are so comfortable letting ourselves down? ‘Tis the season.
Massive flash forward to 2016, I’m nearing my 23rd birthday and I am faced with the stark and rather startling realization that I no longer recognize myself… Literally. Nearly two years of displaced stress from self-induced displacement – moving across the country and still not feeling firmly planted. Apparently I coped by eating, a lot… And by not moving… ever. Sixty pounds packed onto my body in 18 months. I hear the words “wake-up call” thrown around a lot, but it’s really more like a 60lb anvil being dropped on your chest combined with the worst iPhone ringtone going off with no chance of snoozing, (you know what one I mean). I guess it was time for a change?
Enter February of 2016 and I decide to do what I’ve always thought about in passing, try my luck at probably the most uncompleted race in history… I resolve to sustainably and methodically lose the weight I had gained. Long story short, I lost 40 of my 60lbs in one year; sounds like a win to me.
So here I am, one year and one month from my last New Years Resolution; a self-titled resolutioner. If my performance last year taught me anything, it’s that keeping a promise to yourself is simultaneously the hardest, yet most rewarding thing you can do for yourself. When you truly want something in your heart, so much so that you take the time to approach it methodically, plan it out, and then chip away at it step by step, you will undoubtedly make magic.
That being said, this year and long after that I’m going to look like I give a f*ck; because I am a New Years Resolutioner, and I can.
Until next time,