Self awareness is tough. It’s uncomfortable. It’s humbling. It’s often, frankly, embarrassing. Shame is a weird monster.

I, like so many people, make my list of things I want to accomplish in the new year. A fool’s shoddy blueprint to become the person I wish I were. Thin. Fit. Organized. With perfect liquid eyeliner every single time.

So yeah, those are all pretty superficial representations of who I want to be. And when it comes to communicating who I am to the world, they really don’t get the job done. Certainly not in comparison to the effort they require of me. And, as Wayne from Letterkenny says, “If you can be one thing, be efficient.” So what are the commitments I can make that will do better work for me?

You know what the trick is? Stop doing dumb shit.

In addition to my list of goals and commitments that are new or constructive, I also have my list of shit I want to leave behind. Here’s what we’re not doing: bringing our tired bullshit into 2023.

This is going to be difficult; it will require patience and consistency. It will require tenacity because slipping, reverting, regressing is easy to do and such a challenge to overcome. I’m sure my sisters would have more than a few things to add to this list (some of my close friends too), but here’s my draft:

• Stop: venting to a friend when I’m angry. I don’t think anyone benefits from this exercise. There’s no reason to burden a friend with my frustrations. It’s an indirect way to process anger that doesn’t often produce real understanding and usually has the potential for collateral damage. It can tax friendships, it can harm my reputation, and it provides a false sense of power. It’s a way to bolster self-righteousness and avoid personal introspection. A good friend, and I’m lucky to have these, will push back and force me to examine my anger and determine what genuine thoughts and emotions it’s masking. But this is work I should be doing on my own. When I do that work myself, I can create an opportunity to engage with my friend on a more intimate and genuine level. I know that there is value in letting off steam, but I want to prioritize the quality of my relationships and using friends to manage my temper is a poor investment.
• Stop: ruminating on painful or uncomfortable emotional experiences. It’s one thing to reflect on something confusing or baffling that can be worked through and potentially understood (like a philosophical problem or reading a novel in a second language), but dwelling on a conversation or experience because of the emotional response I had, spending time trying to rationalize or, worse, justify the emotional reaction is a total waste. Processing communication or thoughts in order to understand myself and identify areas where I can improve my cognitive abilities can be valuable. Ruminating on feelings of sadness, embarrassment, insult (etc.) is a waste or time and energy. To be clear, it is important to reflect and process. Ruminating is different. It is getting wrapped around the axel of shame and I don’t want to to do that.
• Stop: expecting people to make an effort when I haven’t asked them for what I want or need. People are not like servers at a restaurant; friendships are not occupations with clearly outline daily tasks and routine duties. What nonsense. If I’m not comfortable asking for what I want or need, I should really be asking myself why. If I’m frustrated or disappointed that they don’t reciprocate behavior I do for them, I should probably examine my motives for doing those things in the first place. Turns out, modeling behavior is a pretty poor way of communicating what you want from someone. Better to just tell them.
• Stop: willfully maintaining blind spots in order to avoid taking responsibility or accountability for undesirable outcomes or even just lack of results.
• Stop: co-existing with unsolved problems because the discomfort is manageable or because confronting the issue will temporarily bring greater discomfort. This is stupid. Be a problem solver and fix shit. Make shit better. Don’t settle for limping along. Do the work.
• Stop: spending money on other people. Spend your time and attention on them instead. [An aside: I think how this is written is probably controversial. Plenty of people in my life will tell you their love language is gifts. I’m not bothered by that. My problem is that I tend to be far too causal about spending money on other people, which makes it not thoughtful, not intentional–so, not a gift–and therefore less meaningful. Gifts are gifts. Money is for bills.]

That seems like a lot. There are definitely more. I should stop picking at my face. Stop reading the news before I go to sleep. Stop just moving stuff to the basement instead of finding a proper place for it… But this list was definitely more interesting to write about.

It’s been so long since I wrote for myself that it feels unnatural. Time to start again. I’m going to try to write just to write; to enjoy the process; to explore words and language and thought again–not unlike I do with cooking and baking. The experimenting and the learning is the best part.

This most recent birthday was an occasion for deep gratitude. I made plans with friends and family and enjoyed a full week of celebrations, big and small. This was one of the best birthdays I can remember and it’s because I made it happen. I took responsibility for my own joy and I had a great time. I’m so appreciative of everyone who joined me. And I learned how important and effective it is to just take charge of making what you want a reality.

Some of my relationships collected dust or atrophied or wilted or rusted, or whatever sign of neglect is most visceral to you. Initially, I could have blamed the pandemic. I think that excuse has expired and anyway, I’ve found it more useful to reflect on the relationships that I want to have, the kind of friend I hope to be, and the ways in which I can succeed in caring for my friends and family. I do think it’s really important to reflect on moments or patterns of failure. I want to take responsibility and be accountable for when I’ve fucked up, especially when it affects someone else. There’s no reason for me to wait until Yom Kippur to reflect, evaluate, and repair. It serves me best as a sort of deadline. None of us should procrastinate when it comes to atoning.

This is not going to be a Yom Kippur letter to everyone and therefore to no-one. I’d much prefer to write as a way of working through ideas I’m still tangling with. It will be a jumble of thoughts because I don’t care to organize this, rather I prefer to just let it flow and I can revisit and refine my thinking as I go forward.

I had a really emotionally messy conversation with a friend with whom I share a romantic past. This is a person I love and care for deeply, but our relationship has not always been comfortable for me. After about a year apart, we reconnected and it was beautiful and awful. Without delving into the painful conversation (I don’t want to do that here), I do want to capture some of the concepts that the conversation helped me express with more clarity.

• I cannot expect or demand that another person will think the way I do, feel the way I do, or understand things the way I do
• I cannot expect or demand that another person think, feel, or understand things the way I want them to
• I am not obligated to adopt the thinking, feeling, or logic of someone else
• Nobody else is obligated to adopt my thinking, feeling, or logic
• I can’t assume that my way of thinking, feeling, or understanding is better or more correct
• All I can do is make an effort to understand someone else’s experience and invite them to understand mine

Most importantly, I maintained my resolve and refused to settle for less than what I want, nor did I accept less respect and consideration than I believe I deserve and have more than earned. Nobody will look out for my mental-emotional safety; I have to do that work myself.

Okay, that’s actually a nice segue into another thought that I have fixated on for much longer than just the past year. A person cannot outsource their happiness. Now, this is where I shift from my own learnings born of personal experience and instead share some of the convictions formed from observing friends struggle and flail. Other people cannot be your source of happiness. You cannot make it someone else’s job, obligation, responsibility, or duty. If you know what you need to be happy, handle it for yourself. That’s your job. If you’re not willing to do the work for yourself, ask yourself why? Be a problem solver, be an investor, be an advocate, be a committed ally for your own self.

This continues to be a difference of personal philosophy between me and at least two friends. I see them place the onus of their happiness on a partner and I should admit that it makes me angry. I find it morally deplorable. To me, it is a way of setting a trap for your partner to test whether they fail. If the partner succeeds, my friend is happy, but ratchets up their expectations without communicating them. If the partner fails, their is some sort of perverse satisfaction in my friend’s perceived evidence of victimhood. They seem to do some kind of insane emotional math that confirms they give more and do more and the partner just takes and takes and never appreciates. It offends me. It seems manipulative, dishonest, and lazy.

I recognize how judgmental this is and that I must remember that I can’t expect other people to take the same approach to life, relationships, or communication that I do.

[Note on 1/9/23 – I didn’t end up coming back to this, but I’ve committed to writing *and* publishing, so I’m posting it anyway]