My Best Self Wishes Came True in 2016
Somehow, I did what I said I’d do. Almost.
Somewhat unsurprisingly, on the precipice of 2015, I thought my 2016 self would be a shinier, fresher, newer version of my current self — a lot like the person I am now, but slightly different, I wrote in 2015 and I guess I’m happy to say that I have become that person, by dint of age, the ravages of time and a series of circumstances that when added up, look a little bit like effort.
In January, I had a job that made my left eye twitch out of stress and paid me well enough. In April, I got a new boss and despite my best efforts, could not quite meet her where she needed to be met. In June, I left my job under circumstances that were not quite of my choosing, and started working for myself. The underlying anxiety about money that colors every interaction of my life and that I vowed to leave behind in 2015 followed me into 2016, but all it did this summer was make me work very, very hard out of fear that I would somehow be unable to sustain myself and the life that I lead.
Left to my own devices and able to chose how and where and when I make my money, I’ve found that the anxiety I’ve held for so long about whether I’m making enough and how I’m spending it is best channeled into organizing. A healthy fear of paying taxes has led to strict budgeting, setting aside 32 percent of each check I get into my second checking account. Understanding myself well enough to know that idleness is crazy-making, I’ve got a lot of work that I’m actually happy to do. Somehow, I’m making more money now than I was when I was working for someone else; I’m not sure how that happened, but all it means is that I’m saving money. I’ve come to realize in 2016 that I’m not bad with money, after all — I’ve just been convinced that I “should” be doing something else with it other than what I do.
A part of being freelance means that you are intimately aware of how much money you make at all times and how much you are owed. I certainly couldn’t tell you my blood type, but if you asked how much money I make in a month and who has yet to pay me, I could pull that answer up in about ten seconds. That hyperawareness seems like it would be stressful, but in reality, it’s soothing more than anything else. If I can see the coins clearly in my head, visualize precisely when and how and where this money is coming from, I can rest at night.
Resolving to change is good only because it sets the ball in motion; whether or not you’re aware of the ball’s journey is your own shit entirely. Last year I told myself that I would make career choices that felt like actual choices instead of panicked decisions. Learning your limits is invaluable; this year, I’ve learned to say no in situations when I would’ve normally said yes. Turning down work technically means turning down money. In 2015, I would’ve taken the work, but in 2016, I looked at my schedule, saw what was on my plate and realized that it’s okay to have boundaries.
The other promises I made to myself about things like dry cleaning, gym memberships and therapy remain unfulfilled. I joined a gym, but rarely go; I explored therapy but haven’t bit the bullet. Dry cleaning feels insurmountable and unnecessary; maybe this year I’ll finally start, but probably not.
This article is an update to The Billfold’s 2015 end-of-year series, “Our Best Selves in the Coming Year.”
Support The Billfold
The Billfold continues to exist thanks to support from our readers. Help us continue to do our work by making a monthly pledge on Patreon or a one-time-only contribution through PayPal.
Comments