By the time this post goes up we will already be ten days into the New Year. Fortunately, there’s no one grading me on my submission of goals or I would have failed this year by default.

At the end of 2013, I decided I didn’t like the idea of resolutions. I then came up with a concept that I liked better, but turned out to be essentially the same. (Nice job on that one, 17-year-old B.)

Screen Shot 2018-01-10 at 3.36.29 PM
the face of one who thinks she’s creative but is in fact–not.

I don’t really like strict resolutions with clearly defined parameters, they never work for me and I always end up forgetting. Other than setting a few around study and other practical requirements, I’d rather have what I want to think about over the next twelve months recorded.

This will be the fourth year I’ve published the concepts that I want to define my new year online. The idea behind this is that I will trigger my fear of failure enough to actually achieve something. (Also I insist on oversharing. And I enjoy reading similar from others.)

2018goals

The last two years I’ve recorded whatever verse seems to have captured my focus around the turn of the year. Last year it was Philippians 4:8, this year, Ezekiel 36:25-26, a verse that I’ve taken a bit out of context but is also applicable to my current life situation.

This little yellow page in my journal with become what I turn to for the rest of the year, a sort of backbone.

Anyway.

Here we are, 2018.

I am excited to write more words and unexcited to deal with the hard bits of recovery. I am excited for creativity and growth and healing.

This is not the most incredible thing I have ever written, but I have a lot more things to talk about, and somehow my drafts folder now contains 25 unfinished posts, so I suppose I will get onto them.

Until then, I hope this year is a year of change and love and empathy. I hope that 2018 is a year that the world doesn’t finish quite so exhausted and tired, that instead, we speak up for justice and equity, and that personally and globally we feel a little freer.

All my love,
B.

Posted by:Britts Amelia

21. Ex-dancer. Jesus Feminist. Very bad at autobiographies, apparently. Once wrote and directed a substandard short film. University student.

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