I Get Emo: A Winter's Tale
First thing's first: merry Christmas. My mama raised me right, and I unabashedly love festivity, so I'll lead with that. Second thing, though: does anyone else feel like this December -- nay, 2015! -- has been a fickle bitch?
My birthday is nestled in between the holiday season and the close of the year, so I'm perhaps even more susceptible to heavy reflection and the futile desire to predict my wild unknowns than the average broad. Furthermore, I realize that we millennials fall pray to hyperbole... Yaaaaaas, dying, dead ... and ceaselessly asking the nouveau-proverbial question "What is my life?!" But seriously? What is my life?
In regaling friends and family with stories from 2015, I am repeatedly struck by the fact that what I'm saying is blatantly absurd. The retelling of entire chunks of said life (Life Chunks ™), i.e.; job, living situation, relationships, family, sounds so preposterous coming out of my mouth that it must be made up. But it's not! There have been rare diseases! There have been suitors in not one, not two, but three bands! There have been strange trips and unexpected love stories and new endeavors and casual interactions with celebrities and ongoing arguments about money and worth and self-respect. It's all WILD. I'm WILD. What is HAPPENING?
When I'm mired in this entropy stew, it can be difficult to differentiate and appreciate each element of chaos for what it's given me. But when I take an hour to think it through, transitional though my 27th year has been, holy shit has it been fun. Holy SHIT, I've learned a shit ton about myself and my world and what I want from my future. I mean, damn.
A few more brief impressions so I can get back to trimming my tree (that's real. We're a last minute brood.)
- I am improving so much at saying what I need to say, particularly regarding work and dudes. And I'm also beginning to realize that if spitting it out is deeply distressing (It = Give me a raise! Date me or don't!) or the listening party just won't hear it... the struggle isn't worth it. People who care about you want you to be happy and comfortable. Period.
- Squad is everything. I legitimately would not have made it from age 22 to age 28 without the backing of the baddest girl gang you ever did see. And I am eternally grateful.
- I know this will all add up to something. My perpetually shattered and superglued heart. The questionable things I do for money (don't read too much into that.) As my homegirl Cheryl says, these things are my becoming.
Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. I wish you courage and candor in 2016.