Edition #96: My New Year's Letter

Plus, how to know what you really want, a short story by Miranda July, and some recipes

Dec 30, 2021

0% vanity 100% Self love shared by Lily♡ on We Heart It

A Note From the Editor

There was a time in my life where I lived and died by a stringent set of rules I had constructed. The rules might change subtly with the season, but their general themes mirrored those of my life—to exert the utmost control at all times in order to stay atop my game and remain untouchable. Waking up at 5am, working out at least four times a week, and never buying bread were among favorites.

My militant lifestyle culminated at the end of every calendar year with a two-fold tradition. First, I would pick something to give up for the entirety of the coming year, always indulgences I knew I had the capacity to go overboard on—it was Starbucks one year, french fries, and pizza the next. Second, I would write a letter to myself, to be sealed away and not glanced at again until the start of the following year. Though I have outgrown many of these obsessive habits, I have continued to pen my end-of-year letter, as I find it charming and sweet. But the past few years, when I would anxiously open this message from my former myself on January 1, I would come off of the experience feeling strangely disappointed and empty.

I wrote this letter, which wasn’t supposed to be read (by me) until the first of January, 2022, in February of this year. I remember the day because I was feeling a general, lolling sense of lethargy; trapped in my apartment, trapped in a life that didn’t make me feel alive. I had walked to Washington Square Park to clear my mind before a Zoom meeting, finding a rare sunny winter day in New York. Life outside my four walls was clear and bright. I looked around and felt an unexpected jolt of something that resembled hope. In that instant, I decided to write my end-of-the-year letter.

If there is one thing I’ve learned as time has gone on, as I’ve shredded the destructive habits of my youth and begun to venture into the cave of what I hope will someday resemble wisdom, it is that arbitrary, self-imposed rules are not the law and do not need to be treated as such. I read my end-of-year letter this summer when I was feeling doubtful about a decision I needed to make. I’ve read it a few times since then and each time I have found it was precisely what I needed to hear.

In the spirit of rule-breaking, I decided to type it up (it is handwritten, as my end-of-year letters always are) and to share it with you. I’ve never shared my letter before, but this year it felt right. Maybe you’ll see yourself somewhere in the note, or maybe you’ll be inspired to write yourself a similar letter. Maybe you’ll think, “This girl is cheesy as hell.” Either way, here is my end-of-year gift to you.

—-

Dear Me,

For the past few years, these letters have elicited a disappointing response from your future self. You’ve read them a year later and been unable to pin down the heartbeat, the point of what you had been hoping to achieve or who you had been striving to become. It’s been a few years of peeing at yourself through a dirty mirror, always ending dissatisfied at the utter lack of clarity.

First, I will observe that the root of that fog comes from a discomfort with yourself, years of trying to bury certain parts (growing up poor, being bisexual) and amplifying others (being put together, a high achiever with a bit of material success to prove it). Those behaviors led you to hate yourself, to never feel good enough because you didn’t let the self-proclaimed “ugly parts” show enough to be celebrated by yourself or by anyone else. You buried yourself like a secret and from this point, no matter what you did—getting your first short story accepted for publication, growing your newsletter—none of it mattered as much as you hoped it would, because none of it made you feel like yourself. It didn’t change the way you felt inside; like a girl wasting time, wasting potential, striving for a greater greatness beyond the security of a “safe” white-collar life.

I’m starting there as a reminder that THAT is the most important thing, the only valiant task. Learning to heal yourself, which you are actively doing, then owning the person you are and letting that guide the things you write, the projects you create, the relationships you build. If you start there rather than continuing to relentlessly pursue the task, you will feel better. You’ll be able to live longer, lighter, and I bet your work will be better, too.

That, then, is the new high task for the year. A fundamental change in the way you process yourself, and from that place of worth comes a level of empowerment. I’ve had this thought: the door is there and it’s open, you just have to walk through it. I already am the person I want to be, I just need to give her some space to walk through that door.

Another thing that comes to mind: the words comfort and creativity. I seek comfort I did not get growing up; material comforts, the comforts of a nice lifestyle free of guilt, the comfort of being cared for by my friends, family, a partner. The comfort of asking, in earnest, for support when I need it. The comfort of being totally honest with myself and with others, especially as I begin dating again.

Creativity is where I want to anchor my life. There is so much inside of my curious mind—stories to be told, screenplays to be penned, videos to be directed, pop-up exhibits to be assembled. My greatest desire, right now, is to have the opportunity to spend all of my time on my creative work and to be compensated for it in the same matter I am compensated now. I have seen the small strides I can make in a year when I am consistent, and today I had a clear thought that spurred me to pen this letter: in a year from now, I’d like to be doing creative work that means something to me full-time. Just writing that feels scary. What if I don’t do it? What if I disappoint myself? But then, I can do it. I am capable. Talented. It’s a matter of practice, of building the muscle of living a little, or a lot, differently than I have been.

It’s already begun, on the cusp of this fresh, unknown year. I live in the West Village. I take baths at the end of a long day. I hired a decorator. I’m giving up the money strain, the same way I gave up the eating disorder years ago. I take walks, two a day. I’m taking care of myself more tenderly. Already, I am different.

By the time you read this, I hope you are sitting on a body of creative work that you are proud of, and that you are ready to step away from marketing and into the great big beautiful tomorrow. I hope you got your ass back. I hope you can say, out loud, “you are a fucking hot, talented badass” and mean it (try it!). I hope you did your 2021 giving project.

I hope you feel like you are not wasting your life. You aren’t.

With Love, M. Palmer

Three Pieces of Content Worth Consuming

How to Know What You Really Want. This article wasn't what I thought it would be in the best way. The author roots his argument in the concept of mimetic desires. Desires are what often drive us, but desires are fleeting and they represent a lack we see in ourselves, meaning they aren't necessarily quenchable. There is a philosophical theory that desires are mimetic— they don't stem from some mysterious, all-knowing thing in us, but are actually a reflection of what other people want. Think, a career you pursued because it would look so good but that you find yourself hating. In essence, when we end up chasing our desires, we’re chasing things we don’t truly want and wondering why we feel empty or unhappy. A must-read.
Roy Spivey, a Short Story by Miranda July. Even someone who doesn’t particularly favor short fiction will appreciate this story. It isn’t isolating, it’s an easy, quick read, and will intrigue you and leave you with just the right amount of sadness. If you don’t know Miranda July, she’s an OG weird-cool-artist-girl who is one of my favorite people to follow on the internet.
The Death (?) of the New Years Resolution. I have mixed feelings on this one. I’m getting tired of reading about the state of things (that is: terrible). I was on the phone with my sister the other day and she said, "I know everyone is saying this year sucked, but I liked this year." I liked it, too, though of course there were sucky parts. The constant internet outpouring of reminders, articles, TikToks, think pieces, and Tweets telling us what a shitty year we've been through is neither useful nor is it healthy, and this internet sentiment keeps us stuck in a vicious cycle of doom. This is my main beef with this piece. I agree resolutions are mostly bullshit and I like the point the author makes about getting in touch with your intrinsic values and making decisions about the coming year from there, but I don't want to get behind another "everything sucks so who cares" POV. It's getting boring.

Perhaps You Should… Get to Cooking

I recently started Sunbasket, a healthier alternative to HelloFresh, and have found it decent thus far, but after looking at the NY Times Cooking’s 50 best recipes of 2021, I’m thinking I need to add a few of these meals into my repertoire. I especially want to try this and this.

Bonus Content (Impression to Megan Thee Stallion)

Don’t ask me how I came across this video, but I’m so glad I did. Two (insanely talented?) guys singing “Body’ by Megan Thee Stallion doing various impressions of celebrities and characters on the spot! I always forget YouTube is a treasure trove of weird and wonderful content.

A Quote From A Book You Should Read:

“But then suppose you stepped into one of those rooms,’ he said, ‘and discovered another room within it. And inside that room, another room still. Rooms within rooms within rooms. Isn’t that how it might be, trying to learn Josie’s heart? No matter how long you wandered through those rooms, wouldn’t there always be others you’d not yet entered?”

-Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

This newsletter is best served with a side of conversation, so drop your opinions, reflections, and thoughts in the comments below and let’s get to talking.

that's so interesting

Discussion about this post