bye, 2018.
Like every year I’ve lived so far, 2018 has held a lot of everything. Highs and lows, celebrations and laments, changes and consistencies.
But you don’t need to know all the cool stuff I’ve done, concerts I’ve been to, or airports I’ve set foot in. I want to tell you where I am, how I got there, and what I’ve learned, because maybe you can relate to that. Maybe you can take something from that to make your experience a little easier.
I’ve worked 4 different jobs in 2018. From January to June, I was a part of the design team at Coca-Cola HQ. One month later I was back to serving burgers & beer, and in the end of September I started as a secretary for Community Relations in the school system I grew up in. I moved down to Macon for my fourth job, Creative Director at my church, and squeezing that around other jobs looked a little different than I thought. I felt (feel) like I was (am) moving backwards. Humbling is an understatement.
I’m at the age where the friends you’ve had most of your life, and even the ones you’ve made recently, live all over the place. I left 3 of the best friends I’ve ever had in Atlanta, and while we’re still close, it’s not the same as sharing a bathroom or dinner and a movie every Wednesday night. My best friend since ninth grade still lives in Augusta, and surprise, the simple act of moving to Macon didn’t magically rekindle my friendships from middle Georgia like I thought it would. So it’s been a little lonely.
Despite my (terrible) attempts at using Bumble, I don’t have any romantic pursuits on the horizon. Well, to be fair, I have my filter set on “taller than 5’8”, which is my height, and “Christian,” and it’s usually empty. So that’s not my fault. Still, my younger brother just got engaged (I’m massively happy for them! Not his fault or a slight at them at all. It’s just where I’m at) and I can feel that slow but sure accelerando in my soul: you’re 25. almost 26. still single. still single. always single? fix it. fix it. fix it.
Despite having to create constantly, I’m in the stickiest creative rut I can remember being stuck in. I’ve talked to a few of you SCAD kids about this, and I know I’m not alone. We’re not alone! But it still majorly sucks. My Identity is CREATOR! I MAKE THINGS! I LIKE TYPEFACES! I SOLVE PROBLEMS VISUALLY AND LOVE DOING IT! In fact, I’ve spent a lot of money to solidify that identity! but BOY does a little part of me die every time I open Illustrator! And an even bigger part of me dies every time I open Premiere Pro. But I have to keep pushing pixels and ideating, because that’s my job. but man those idea wells are E M P T Y. It’s stressful and exhausting and scary, because what if I never have another good idea? What does that mean for my life?
At this point you’re probably like YIKES girl get it together! Joke’s on you, I’m a 4, I never have it together! Really though, I know I just dumped a lot of the not-so-shiny parts of my year on the internet. Because through them, I’ve learned a lot of things I think the Lord has been trying to teach me for a few years now. And finally feeling those things click is SO worth the dull, gross, tear-stained bits.
Thanks to God, time, and the Enneagram, I present my 2018 learnings:
I learned that I romanticize things, and the deep feelings I feel surrounding something aren’t necessarily shared OR the truth.
I learned that as real as they feel, my thoughts and emotions aren’t the be-all end-all of anything. There’s life on the other side of them. I learned to let them have their space, feel them, and move on and leave them behind.
I learned that my fierce competition with those around me is mostly my perception. It might feel like I’m getting constantly skipped and left on the third phase of Phase 10 while everyone else laughs at me and moves along, but the truth is we’re playing different games at different speeds on different time tables.
I learned that I have a whole life that I’ve cultivated with people that love me that I often detach from in moments of romanticism or competitiveness. I learned that it’s okay to leave the comfort of those feelings and come back down to earth. It’s okay here. I’m safe here. I’m happy here.
I learned that it’s okay to stay. Moving on because you think you’ve become greater than your circumstances are allowing you to be perceived isn’t necessarily the right move. It’s okay to stay and change those circumstances for you and the people around you. It’s hard, but it’s okay.
Today, we say goodbye to 2018, but not to what we learned in it. Don’t go blindly into 2019. Make stock of the good, bad, and ugly of your year, so you step into 2019 ready, eyes open, ready for the highs and lows, celebrations and laments, changes and consistencies it will hold. Put tangible practices in place to change the parts of 2018 you weren’t happy with. Don’t forget the good stuff though, good stuff is useful too.
I love y’all. Onward.