I know this is July, but I got to thinking about my New Year’s resolutions, and thought I may as well do a mid-year assessment. First I have to admit that I am a big believer in them, but some years they work, others not so much. Feeling ambitious, I made several this year.
My first resolution was to tell my friends and family I loved them (I mean the ones I actually do, not the ones I am indifferent toward). I grew up in a very loving family, but we are not people who actually say the words ‘I love you.’ Nor do we hug or kiss much. I know, hard to imagine an Irish clan that is not particularly emotional, or singing “Oh Danny Boy” at every occasion. I never miss a chance to tell my kids I love them, but everyone else is left guessing. So at the beginning of the year, I told two friends I loved them. It didn’t go well. I guess because I am not a feelings-sharer, one friend assumed I was seriously ill and this was goodbye. The other friend just stared at me across the dinner table and said, “That’s nice.” In other words, there was no ‘I love you’ back. Guess that’s what happens when a non-sharer opens up to another non-sharer. After those two reactions, I decided it is probably better to just let people continue to wonder if I love, like, or simply tolerate them. That seems to make everyone, including me, much more comfortable.
My second resolution was to wear red lipstick every day. Yes, you read that correctly. There is something so adult about wearing red lipstick that no matter what you have on, you seem very sophisticated with a pop of color on your lips. This resolution was much harder to keep than I expected. Red is a tricky color for redheads with freckles. I tried about seven different lipsticks and countless lip glosses, but each time I peered in the mirror I looked like a double for The Joker. And that is not a good thing. Seriously, I had to remove pictures from my Facebook page because the color on my lips literally screamed, ‘crazy ass.’ (Can I say ass in this paper?)
My third and final resolution was to stop caring about what other people think. But it is a nearly impossible goal for a youngest child. All I want is approval. Did you like dinner? Do you like my outfit? Did you think my column was funny? The only time I don’t care is when I am sleeping, and really you can only sleep so much each day. I cannot exaggerate how much anxiety this causes me. The lack of feedback from others only results in a heightened stress level. Acting like I didn’t care was harder than actually caring.
So, this year my New Year’s resolutions have been a big, fat failure. I thought about making new ones mid-year, but decided against it. I hope you’ve had better success with your New Year’s Resolutions. Actually, I don’t—I hope you are just like me. It helps my self-esteem to know that I am not the only resolutions failure. Oh and by the way, I love my readers. I really do.
