New Year, Same Me
Happy 2021! The year that would seemingly never end, 2020, actually ended. It’s over. Whether the year was your worst or your best, I’m sure many of us can agree it was a strange one filled with quite interesting and even sometimes frightening twists and turns.
For me, 2020 was a mix of:
Sorrows and joys.
Gut-wrenching grief and soul-buoying happiness.
Unforeseen losses and unexpected gifts.
Fear and hope.
Endings and beginnings.
I’ve set New Year’s resolutions in the past. Several years, ago, I promised myself I’d never lay in the tanning bed again. I kept that one. I’ve not been so diligent about keeping others: do more yoga, get more sleep, drink less caffeine. This year, I decided to set an intention instead of a resolution. “What’s the difference?” you might be thinking. For me, a resolution is a more rigid rule or goal you set for yourself that is often accompanied by private shame or public guilt if you “fail” to keep it or meet it. An intention, on the other hand, is a guiding idea or principle that leaves more room for flexibility and balance if you encounter obstacles in your pursuit of living with the intention. In short, intentions are guideposts and not finish lines.
American culture makes a big deal out of New Year’s resolutions. No less than six people have asked me what mine is this year. We put so much pressure on ourselves to change. Many of these changes we seek are external and inextricably linked to appearance, weight, and perceived attractiveness: Lose weight. Eat less. Work out more. Avoid sweets. Continue the war on carbs. (Carbs are seriously a gift we need to enjoy for all their wondrous glory, perhaps another blog post). What if we threw this idea out and instead accepted our outer selves while turning our energy toward our inner selves? What would that feel like? Relief? Setting down guilt and shame and reaping the benefits of that peace? It’s worth a try.
The intention I set this year is to “Accept the love I think I deserve.” This concept comes from one of my favorite books and movies, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. In it, the main character, Charlie, asks his English teacher, Mr. Anderson, “Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?” Mr. Anderson wisely responds, “We accept the love we think we deserve.”
So what does it even mean to “Accept the love I think I deserve”? It means setting and keeping healthy boundaries with myself and with others. Saying “yes” to people that pour back into me and “no” to people who only take. Saying kind things to myself about myself and apologizing to myself when I’m unkind to me. It means being patient with myself as I navigate the stressors this year will inevitably bring and stop trying to be perfect or superhuman or strong all the time. It means making room for people who love me well and walking away from people who just won’t. It even means forgiving myself for intending (now there’s some irony) to write one blog per month in 2020 and not having written one in 9 whole months.
My intention starts and ends with me. It’s about accepting love from myself and others. Your intention can start and end with you. It doesn’t have to be about what anyone else thinks. In fact, it’s best if it’s not. It’s best if your intention is for you. Not about what others say you should think, feel, do, look like, eat, not eat, or the myriad of judgments people lay on us to avoid themselves. It’s not too late to set an intention, by the way. It’s not even February yet. Just like it wasn’t too late for me to start writing again. Now, onto that intention…
