I know that I write this every year, but it is worth repeating. I utterly detest New Year's Eve. In all honesty, I'd be happy to bypass the entire week between Christmas and New Years. With the exception of enjoying having both Scott and Robby home for the week, there is little value to these days. Most offices are closed or offer sporadic hours. I don't want to go shopping because the last thing I need in my home right now is more stuff. After the chaos of Christmas, I yearn for things to return to normal!
As soon as the last present is unwrapped,
television shows begin segments touting New Year's Eve party ideas. From
fancy recipes for appetizers made from ingredients I don't recognize to
various ways to bedazzle sweaters for the big night, I hate all of the
coverage. It feels like the world is preparing for a wonderful party and
I'm left without an invitation. I know that I'm not going to be the
only one home tonight, but if you watch daytime television, it would
seem that I am.
This time of year must be a favorite for
psychologists, physicians, nutritionists, and personal trainers as they
inundate the public with messages of change. You're fat. You're not
making enough money. Flab is bad. Your bum shouldn't jiggle. You need to
change. New Year, New You. After awhile, the messages lose their
effectiveness, and it simply becomes depressing!
I am tired of
being lectured by "professionals" on television. This year, I refuse to
let the messages of self-loathing (masked as self-improvement) influence
me. It's okay for me to eat a cupcake every once in awhile and I refuse
to feel guilty. After all, cupcakes taste really good! I'm tired of
tying my self-worth to my jean size. I am not a size 2, but I am okay
with that. I am a healthy weight and I'm strong. I'm going to continue
to work-out, but I'm doing it to feel good, not to try to meet some
unattainable standard set forth by a quack doctor who is basking in his
or her 15 minutes of undeserved fame on morning TV.
putting on a cocktail dress and getting my nails manicured for an
evening on the town, I'll be searching through the piles of laundry in
my bedroom trying to find pajamas without visible stains. Robby and I
will curl up on the couch and, if I allow him control of the television
remote, we'll be watching Tom and Jerry Nutcracker for what is probably
the 97th time. Our appetizers will consist of S'mores made over the
fireplace and popcorn. My New Year's Eve date will fall asleep well
before midnight, but Scott and I will still sneak into his room to give
him a kiss on the cheek as soon as the clock strikes midnight.
New Year's Eve isn't as spectacular as those depicted on television,
but we will be together and happy. Someday I'd like to get dressed up
and go out to a New Year's Eve party simply so I can experience it
although I know that, in spite of all of the trappings, I'll always
enjoy our private celebrations at home more.
This year I am
dedicating to self-acceptance. I'm going to work on being authentic with
myself and to embrace my flaws as much as I do my strengths. I'm thirty
something, but I feel like I'm finally getting to know myself. At the
risk of sounding cocky, I am really beginning to like me!