I don’t even know what I’m feeling really. This is the first birthday in memory, maybe ever since childhood, that isn’t fraught in some way. The biggest stress in my life right now is upstairs neighbours who are occasionally noisy. Being nervous about my life’s dream coming to life; about being live on the radio. But I fantasized about that for years, thought longingly about it, did a crappy internship in Berlin at a jazz radio station just to be NEAR radio. And I transfer my stress onto things that should bring me joy. This is my greatest stress right now, this joy that is in my lap. And when I look at it it’s easy to see that it’s fear of failing that is the real stress. Of course.
This year, my last year in my thirties, is about reaching goals. Or setting new ones. But leaving the past in the past. Enough years have been spent dragging those past hurts along with me, wearing them like some armour. I refuse to bring that weight into my next decade, into the next stage of my life.
I accept what has been for what it was, and I let it go. I accept what is, too, what is out of my control, and what I can control.
Most of all, I will no longer accept negativity in my life. Negative people who want to bring me down. Negative situations. And my own tendency to put a negative spin on things. I will no longer entertain things, people and thoughts that don’t serve me.
I have been in hiding my whole life. I now vow—or vow to try my hardest to—as I enter the final stretch toward my forties and “real” adulthood, to just be myself. Unapologetically, unflinchingly, relentlessly.