For a difference this year, I feel no panic or rush to perform as the year runs out. It would be a lie to say I don’t wish this writing were about me sharing my wins for the year and adding ‘This isn’t my best year yet’ at the end of the writing.
I chuckle when people end their posts with ‘This isn’t my best year yet’; however, they still go ahead to mention the six figures they made, how many countries they had travelled to, announced their marriage, a business they launched, and go ahead to add ‘this isn’t my the best year yet.’
We are well acquainted with the blame and regrets that comes at the end of the year. People sharing their successes, achievements, and goals for the next year can be triggering. Taking time off social media to avoid comparison and anxiety can help, and while you can’t stop people from sharing their progress, achievements, and goals for the new year, deciding what you want to consume depends on you.
Writing this makes me feel like a hypocrite because I have always felt this way when the year draws to an end but had to snap out of the self-loathing and pity. I know it’s advised to concentrate on the small wins and celebrate the small milestones even if they might seem inconsequential, but what exactly am I to celebrate? The opportunities I missed due to my shortcomings, the fact that I have procrastinated yet again, or that I am moving into the new year with new goals coupled with the ones pending from previous years.
I wrote in my journal with so much conviction that 2023 was going to be my best year. I’m too ashamed to look back at some of the things I have written. I try to enter the year with a positive mindset. I used to read and listen to comforting words, but that has become a painkiller that’s no longer effective in alleviating the pain.
A good year might not necessarily mean a year you were able to carry out all that you have set out to do. I know I am beginning to sound like those coaches and motivational speakers, and I promise I don’t intend to. However, maybe this year is for learning, and God equipping us with all that we will need to be better for next year, it has to be cause all these shege can not be for nothing.
As the year goes by, when I think of 2023, I will remember it as the year I moved from using body cream on my face to using a facial cream. Also, the year I came to terms with the fact that I was being bullied at work and needed to stand up for myself. The year I moved to my room and made of it a haven I could always come to at the end of the hustle and bustle of the day. This was the year I realised I didn’t know how to rest. Rest to me was a reward for productivity, and even when I wasn’t doing anything, my mind was never calm. I also realised that I don’t have a hobby, which came to me as a surprise cause on days when I want to just relax or take a screen break there’s hardly anything that brings me joy and fun.
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I don’t know how to enjoy life; I am always in constant worry about what I should be doing. I watch others live their lives through my screen, and I want that for myself too. Next year, I want to live.
To make us feel better, the real work starts in February; as the chief procrastinator that I am, January is like a free period meaning we don’t have to get to work immediately. I am scared of writing anything down for next year, it feels like I am setting myself up for another disappointment.
To all the people who messed up this year and don’t have big goals we crushed to celebrate. For those of us who are too scared to pick up a pen to write down our goals, and for those of us whose only achievement was trying our best and to those who can’t relate to any of these, congratulations. I hope 2024 is better. I am rooting for us.
I have just 26 followers as at the time I will be publishing this post, it will mean a lot to me if you can please take out your time to share my writing and clap as many times as you can. Thank you.
