The Year of Me

For a while, I was forcing myself to do things that scared the shit out of me. Public speaking via Toastmasters was a big one. I started my own business. When I went to Ireland I got a tattoo that says, "Without fear" to remind me of how I wanted to live. I moved across the country.

Then last year a couple of things happened that shook my confidence and my belief in myself. I felt vulnerable and exposed and I allowed myself to be judged. I crawled inside of Fear because it was comfortable. It was safe. When you don't risk anything, you don't lose anything. I told myself it was being lazy, because that sounded like I was in control. I just chose not to do things. Sloth may be a deadly sin, but it sounded better than being afraid and Not in Control of Me.

Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend about how she spent her New Year's. She told me that how you spend your New Year's is how you will spend your year. Hers included an evening at a comedy club, so her year would be about laughter. I had spent my 46th New Year's Eve completely alone for the first time ever. No parents, no boyfriend, no friends, no kid. Just me and the dogs. For about 75 seconds that night I thought I should feel sorry for myself. I mean, only spinsters with 49 cats spend the Party of the Year alone, right? And then I thought, fuck it. I'm good company. I'm a damn good date. I'd rather snuggle with my pups than freeze my ass off or hang out around a bunch of drunk strangers. Or drink and drink and lose three hours of my life and waste the next day hungover.

Given that thought, I am declaring this year The Year of Me. Once again I will step outside my comfort zone (or leap out of it in the case of the burlesque workshop I'm starting this week), face my fears, try new things, and set goals. It's time to aim high again. Even falling from heights (figuratively, of course!) is more satisfying what wishing and wondering "what if."

So. There it is. It's in the Universe now.
Let's go.