2023 is the year I remembered to take care of myself.

New Year, new me? We'll see.

Dressed not in sweatpants and out at the Kennedy Center like a grown-up.

This was possibly the most transformative year of my adult life because it was the year I started to take care of myself again.

It wasn’t the worst year though. I think that award goes to 2015 when my wonderful companion cat Tito died right after my Aunt Nancy, and I wanted to die, too. I did get to enjoy quite a few fun weddings that year, including my BFF’s in London and Ibiza. But I was so broken. I drank so much. I will not be sharing stories from that trip on the internet. It’s the kind of stuff that comes up when you run for office and then your campaign loses all of its funding. But I spent a little over 24 hours alone in Madrid on the way home, which was a dream.

Anyway, this year was better than that one.

The transformations started after comedian and life coach Sara Armour read my astrological chart, something I’d never done before. At the time, I had an abundance of freelance/contract work, but I was creatively starved. I had forgotten I cared about that side of myself — that it even existed. I was disconnected from other people and myself largely because the pandemic came on the coattails of a few not-easy postpartum years.

This is me the most hungover I have ever been in my entire life in a villa in Ibiza, a month shy of 36 years old during a totally miserable year. I woke up at 5 p.m. and thought I was dying.

Sara and I had a conversation that touched on reinventing yourself and reconnecting with your personal light. My light felt so dim during that time. She assured me that my chart had me back on track at some point, doing what I love and helping other people in the process. I just had to get started. Do I believe in the chart? I think that’s sort of irrelevant. What matters is that she pointed to the spark I had forgotten about and told me to fan it.

I always loved spotlighting other people’s successes and to stand in the metaphorical spotlight myself. I had good luck getting work doing that for many years. Even after I had my son, I had big wins, writing for dream publications, and about health, which I’d always wanted to do. But the pandemic, fucking party-pooper covid, just really punctured and drained me. I love being around people, it fills my cup. Suddenly, I couldn’t connect with others in person, then I (like so many people) forgot how to socialize.

I started to try to stand in my own power again — try because I have not accomplished this yet. That effort includes taking better care of myself after seven years of ignoring myself and putting caretaking first always.

I decided I could not just wear sweatpants all the time and feel good about myself. Not caring about what I look like made me feel invisible and I hate feeling invisible. I also decided I wanted to be strong enough to continue to be able to pick up my son comfortably, so I worked out and gained back some of the muscle I lost during the time I turned into a veal cow during covid lockdowns.

And since this was, I’d say, my first year of being “middle aged,” I didn’t just want to, but I needed to redirect some of my attention back to my body. The small but noticeable signs of not being at my peak anymore necessitated small transformations. Like when I got vertigo because I had low blood pressure and was dehydrated. Now I drink more water, pee all of the time (see below), and eat a ton of salty foods.

This year, my child has become more like a little mirror. As he grows, I see his nature more clearly, which lets me understand mine better. It allows me to deconstruct my childhood in new ways, too. Being a parent is, for lack of a better word, so trippy. I just feel like since he was born, I have understood the crossover of my feelings and thoughts from new angles. I learn things that are so subtle (and possibly not that profound), like mini epiphanies, often forgotten a moment later, but which open up new rooms in my mind and heart.

I started to also connect with the world again, open myself up to making friends, talk to strangers all the time (which I enjoy), and write just to write because I love it and it’s fun and I get to say whatever I want and pump out run-on sentences. I don’t have a big audience like I used to, but I’m making an effort. I have found that putting in effort results in new opportunities and experiences and adventures. Who doesn’t want all that?

This was one of the more devastating work years of my life. I lost not only my main gig, but at one point or another, every single other one of my jobs. Thankfully, it looks like in January, after six months of underemployment, I may be closer to getting on track. Losing almost all of my income and work was demoralizing in ways that surprised me, but I know how to be broke. I’ve been broke almost all of my adult life — thank you nonprofits and journalism.

This year, I wallowed, I panicked, I shut down, I opened up, I lost, I gained, I canceled my CSA subscription. Ever the optimist, I am hopeful that the many changes of 2023 will lead to future fulfillment — for myself and all of you.

Hope 2024 brings you all of the joy you deserve and opportunities to see the world and yourself in new ways!

B’bye, 2023!