Bye, bye, 2016. You were a mixed box of amazing and yet scary things. You were fun and crazy good and generally crazy and scary. I think I’ll miss you.
I spent the last hours celebrating with old high school friends, playing mafia, catching up, pretended to be a highly dysfunctional Italian family where a murder had taken place (you know, the usual stuff). It was so fantastically amazing and the perfect end of my year. Love my peeps.
Resolutions always come up this time of year. Last year, one of mine was to be more adventurous. I tend to be hesitant to put myself out there, to be outspoken or to be the adventurous one. I wanted to change that. And looking back, I really think I did. I crashed a wedding reception. I went on a date with a man I didn’t know. I learned how to play drinking games. I put effort into making friendships. Germany was essentially an entire exercise in forging my own adventures. I’m really proud of all that I’ve accomplished this year.
This year I have yet a harder resolution. I’ve always struggled with bottling up everything inside. Any frustration or pain or fear I ignore and hide from not only those who care about me but also myself. I avoid people when I should reach out to them, and sometimes outright brush them aside when they reach out to me. I’ve always somewhat just accepted this as a part of who I am. But recently I’ve realized just how unhealthy and hard on me that is, not only emotionally, but even physically. My roommate can attest to me going to bed at 7 some nights from a stress headache I can’t shake any other way but just going to bed.
The major reason I first started this blog was because I needed somewhere to allow myself to pour out those emotions. Of course, then I went traveling and people started reading it and I became hesitant to share again. But I’m going to try not to hesitate. Going to try being more real with the world and with myself this year. Hopefully when 2018 rolls around I’ll be able to point back and say “Look how far I’ve come.”