Every year, I make a list of resolutions; and every year, the list is fairly predictable -- and accomplishing its tasks is an unlikely feat. On New Year’s Day 2015, my list began something like this, sassy commentary and all:
I am going to finally go on that diet I’d been talking about for months. But that’s highly unlikely, especially since cheese fries are my biggest late-night weakness.
I am going to go to the gym more often. But,as long as I’m not changing waist sizes, the chances of getting me to the gym without being dragged there is slim to none.
I am going to cut coffee out of my daily routine. But, seriously if youtake my coffee away, you’ll see how much of a morning person I am not.
And I’m definitely going to put that boy in the past. New year, new boy -- same unfulfilled promise to stop thinking about him.
I stopped there.
2015 wasn’t going to be another year of misplaced promises and should-haves. No, this was going to be my year. My list was going to contain things I really wanted to change -- not your average resolutions. In 2015, I was going to throw caution to the wind. I was finally going to let go a little and be a little less uptight. I was going to refuse to let the opinions of others continue to dictate how I lived. I was going to worry less. I was going to live life to the fullest -- like every chick flick and inspirational Pinterest quote told me to do. And much like in the start of every new year, I had full faith that this one was going to be significant -- a year to remember.
Almost 365 days later, I can safely say 2015 was not necessarily my year, but it was definitely a year to remember.
In 2015, I made new friends and lost others. I kissed boys on back porches in the cloak of night. I navigated busy airport terminals and traveled alone to big cities. I explored subway stations and hectic streets. I let boys captivate my attention. I let them steal my heart and, often, break it. I received the kinds of phone calls that would make anyone weep. And I finally understood true disappointment -- the kind you feel deep down in your soul. I excitedly opened letters from friends hundreds of miles away. And I enjoyed unforgettable nights with friends close by. I laughed so hard I cried. And, more times than not, I cried so hard I couldn’t help but laugh.
2015 was a year of firsts. But also a year of lasts. It was a year of challenge. It was a year of making my own decisions -- and learning to live with the outcome. And it was a year of discovering that everything doesn’t always happen the way we hope.
But through this year of seemingly endless change, I kept my resolutions. I worried less. I went out more. I wore my heart on my sleeve a little more often. And, even though life threw curves, I survived. And in the end, I became a better human being.
Because even out of the darkest and strangest of days, we can learn something about ourselves. Every experience from this past year taught me something new. And maybe that’s all we can ask for in a year: to grow.
The most important lesson I learned in 2015 was that change is OK. We are never going to be the same person we were a year ago, a month ago, or even a week ago. Life doesn’t stop. We are constantly growing -- and that’s a beautiful realization.
I won’t ask for 2016 to be my year; my only wish on New Year’s Eve will be to experience more -- to keep growing and to never, ever stop.