how to be proud

it should feel new... part 2...

right about now is when your media diet is probably gorged with year-end recaps… the top movies of the year, the top books of the year, the best new restaurants of the year and so on and so on and so on. i always forget how masturbatory we (*INCLUDING MYSELF*) become on new years eve, the clawing need to articulate everything we accomplished and what we have learned from them which will acutely inform the year ahead which will be even better. there is a part of me that will always be endeared by humanity, the collective optimism that jan 1 spurs makes me feel as though i am comforting a child, telling them it will be okay soothing them with unrealistic notions of a shiny future to quell a tantrum. another part of me has a strange sourness from the way people act when on the precipice of the new year, i’ve never really been able to put my finger on as to why.

i was re-reading some of my old journals, flipping to the entries from my birthday and the new year and couldn’t help but feel the self-obsessiveness radiating from the pages. i’ll cut myself some slack as my personal journals are for my eyes only and is the one place i can be as deliciously self-centered as i want, but i’m starting to feel as though the small slivers of any unhappiness i have felt over the past few years can be attributed to just simply thinking about myself too much and constantly creating metrics for no one other than myself to judge.

i have a few resolutions for 2025 that are still fairly insular to me… i want to write more fiction for angel cake, i want to finally be able to do a push-up on my toes, i want to prioritize the newness in my life and i want to start meditating again (and not just because david lynch does). but the real resolution i have is that above all else is that i want to end next year being proud of who i am more so than being proud of my accomplishments on paper. i want to be more proud of how i treat strangers than how many substack subscribers i collect by the end of next year, i want to be more proud of the questions i ask my family than the number in my year-end bonus, i want to be more proud of the minutes i have spent with my friends off my phone than how many minutes i’ve spent in a brutal workout class. i’m sure my ancestors are rolling over in their grave at the idea that being a more considerate and kind neighbor to others is being written about in a overly revolutionary manner (they’re also definitely rolled over in their grave when the song “club classics” by charli xcx was my #2 most listened on spotify wrapped); but, i think the ability to quantify hobbies and habits has led to the idea that our self-pride is contingent upon numbers that mean nothing to anyone other than ourselves. your oura ring score means literally nothing if you are a shitty person.

i’m definitely not saying goals derived by accomplishments are bad, they’re not! i’ll always silently remain driven by superficial means of success as if it was ingrained in me in the womb. however, this year i would rather shift some of my focus off of myself and onto ensuring i am leaving every place better than i found it.

allllllllllll that being said…. i want to thank you again for reading and bearing with my typos and half-baked thoughts this year, writing angel cake is the best part of my week and i still can’t believe anyone reads. thank you!

cake for lunch winter ins and outs are coming soon ;)

enjoy new years i hope each and every one of you get a new years kiss tonight (ideally a DFM) xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo