Ok I know I’m late with this but as someone who’s pretty much always late to the party (seriously who wants to be first to a party?! No one will be there and the host will get you helping to set up the room and dish out the nuts and crisps!) I thought I’d talk about why I’m not going to be setting any resolutions or trying to change who I am this year.
Every year for as long as I can remember, I’d wake up one morning in that slow period between Christmas and New Year and think “This coming year, this will be the year that I change me, the year I will be a better me! I’m going to work out more, cook delicious food more, go for a walk more, be off the internet more, be a better mum/wife/daughter/friend, eat fewer chocolate digestives, clean my house more, invest in me more” and for around 3 weeks come January the 1st I do. I clear the cupboards of all temptation, wash my yoga pants and write lists, extremely thorough lists of what I need to do each day and tick off each task accordingly. Come the 4th week I’m less enthusiastic with my list making, in fact it mostly becomes a book of doodles (mainly pictures of airplanes or desert islands) and I’m back to being well just me!
Last year I woke up in that same week and thought you know what, I’m kinda happy with who I am. I don’t need January the 1st to boot my butt into the gym (ok who am I kidding, I mean put on a Jillian Michaels 30 day Shred DVD in my living room) and I don’t need to live in a show home! I’m not saying this because I plan to turn into a slob and do nothing (listen If thats your jam then you do you, no judgment here!) but why do I need to change at all? What’s wrong with just being me?
As a child I was bullied. At times I hated who I was. I was always a bit quiet, I never stood up for myself and after developing quite an ample bosom at age 13 became an easy target! (I was known for most of my teenage years as Tracey with the big boobs). I remember my mum coming into school to talk to the Head but things didn’t change. I couldn’t wait to leave and thought once I did I’d morph into a new me… Funnily enough I didn’t.
So after 25 years of weight gain, weight loss, Atkins, 5:2, Zumba, Adult tap, perms, short hair, long hair, brown hair (yep!) baggy jeans, platform trainers, mini skirts, bad choices, tattoos, baby loss, anxiety, heartache, true love, motherhood (and I’m always going to be the one at a party who drinks too much and performs a dance routine) who do I actually need to change for?! Will people like me more if I’m a fake me? if I’m a thinner/fatter me? if my boobs are less spaniels ears like?! probably not so I’m saving my energy and focusing on things that really matter to me, my own self worth. I don’t need approval on how I live my life and I don’t make judgment on how others live theirs. Last year we had horrible news. 2 people I love were told horrible news. It made me realise that life is for living, for making memories and enjoying even the tiniest moments (i’m not talking about yelling your lungs out for your children to put their dishes into the dish washer and not just by it!) but those 5 minutes in the morning before you get up and everything is still, the cup of tea that you get to drink whilst its still hot and the kindness of strangers who message you on the internet when you’ve had a shitty day. I guess what I’m saying is that after 42 years I’ve finally accepted that I am enough.