January 1

So the new year started 23 days ago. Exactly 23 days ago I created my new year’s resolution. I wonder how many people wait till the very first day of the new year to start change. Nonetheless, I was one of those who waited till January 1. Oh, the excitement! The wonderful feeling of another chance at change. Another opportunity for self-modification—whether physical, mental, emotional or all of the above. My new year’s resolution went something like this—I will speak my mind, express my feelings and stop putting others before myself. My new year’s resolution was all about self-care, emotional well-being, and above all, my own sanity. Finally, a little push to motivate the new me to emerge once more. Wake up the strong minded, strong willed me who has been sleeping inside for quite some time.

Well, exactly 20 days ago, my resolution broke. Better said, I broke it. I should have known better than to set such an unrealistic goal for myself. Such a complex thing to try to achieve from one day to another. Sort of like when people decide to go vegan or vegetarian. Are people even capable of such drastic changes in such little time? I guess some are, or else how are people able to quit smoking after so many years just like that, cold turkey. Kudos to them. Does that make me even weaker because I failed? I mean, I was already emotionally submissive. Failing at expressing my voice made me even more unable to state my opinion? All these questions that keep sucking me in.

So now what? Do I wait for January 1 to come around again? Do I really have to wait another year to attempt such challenge? Will I even be able to complete my resolution ever? The way I see it (now), everyday can be January 1 for anyone. Looking back maybe a few years makes me think that I have been missing out on a lot. Time I cannot recuperate nor I can make up. Today, January 23 is my new January 1. Time to reset the resolution clock and work towards that self-modification goal. I hope.

But believe me, I am terrified. Failure tends to do that to me. After so many moments of repressed feelings and lack of self-worth, that dormant, old self seems to want to stay dormant. How I crave the old days where I would be able to shout my feelings, express my thoughts, the ability to say, “NO,” simply because I did not want to. What happened to me? Why is it that I go along with everything everyone else says, wants, or does not want? No, really. What happened to me?

January 1 may have to come several times during this year for me. I get the feeling that I may get half way up the stairs and then be forced to come back down just to try to go back up again. Oh well. It is a good exercise, right? I will have buns of steel by the time the next year rolls around.

That cliché saying, “you only live once,” is beginning to haunt me and I am not even done writing. Will it be enough to keep me moving forward? Let’s hope so. Cross your fingers there are not too many tears shed, not too many feelings hurt, and especially, not too many walks back down those stairs. Cheers to the new year, to the many first days of January to come, and to the words waiting to explode out of my mouth. Cheers to the moment when I am able to reach the last step without looking down.