hi there fellow clueless millennial who has nothing better to do right now so you decided to read this,
2016 was so exhausting that i have ran out of fucks to give. so over everything that i told you in the title it’s a clickbait but you still clicked on it and you’re now reading this, which means you’re a bigger idiot than the person who allowed Ronda Rousey to fight even when it’s obvious she’s unprepared.
well, if you’re not following UFC, that’s not an excuse ‘cause you only need to be on Facebook to know what i’m talking about but hey, since we’re talking, I need you to understand something. Ronda Rousey was unprepared coming into the fight with Amanda Nunez which is the same for all of us coming into 2017—no matter how much you tell social media otherwise.
darling, no amount of hashtags can prepare you for the unknown. i mean, Hillary prepared a victory speech but ya bet nobody heard that over the stunned silence from everyone when Trump actually won America.
you and I are as prepared for 2017 as Jared Leto was when he portrayed Joker in that movie which means we’re not prepared at all so we’re both probably gonna fuck up even worse than we did in 2016; which ultimately brings me to my point.
stop beating yourself up. you’re a work in progress and just because there are some things you didn’t achieve in 2016 doesn’t mean you’ve failed. this doesn’t really sound nice but you know what in 2012, i thought 2011 was the worst year of my life but ya bet 2012 proved me wrong. saying “worse things are going to happen” is probably not going to help but that was 2012 and it’s 2017 now—i’m still writing, and alive, and still myself above all my worse years. you’re going to be fine—and you’re probably rolling your eyes but it’s true. it’s most true when it’s 2AM and you’re sad and heartbroken—you’re going to be fine.
some days, you’re going to want to run away. so run away. go have a weekend to yourself. hop on a bus to the nearest beach or the nearest city you think no one knows you. go book a hotel and order breakfast for two even if it’s just you. i once travelled alone for two weeks and told people my name was Elizabeth because i used to read Jane Austen when I was younger. but honey, call your mom every other night and tell her you love her. call your dad and tell him you’ll be fine. and then come home when you find yourself. always come back as you—because the only thing worse than you leaving is you, not being you.
keep some things to yourself. people are going to ask you, why. why’d you break up? why’d you get that tattoo? why’d you quit your job? you don’t have to answer them. you’re not obliged to answer to anyone. i mean, i guess it’s sort of cool now to share everything to everyone but even Facebook has a Hide To option on your posts. even the moon—we only see a full moon twice a month. the moon obviously understands that some days, it’s better to keep parts of you hidden to the world. i mean you’re not the moon but to me you’re a star so that’s close enough.
there will be a year that your birthday will suck. quite honestly and realistically, it’s going to be a series of years, when your birthday will not feel special. you don’t have a big celebration, not enough money, not enough friends. you’ll secretly throw a tantrum and think it’s best not to celebrate this year. but you know what, celebrate anyway. some people will buy you a cake or a generic card. some people will spend less than three minutes tapping on their Facebook app just to greet you—and it will suck reading all the HBDs. but somewhere, somebody thinks you’re special—and it’s your right to celebrate yourself. you dedicate yourself to work and to others the entire year. you get one day for yourself, use it. celebrate yourself; they literally congratulated your mom and dad when you were born.
forgiveness doesn’t always come easy but it comes. and sometimes you won’t even notice it. it’s going to come on a normal work day when the past sort of reminds you it exists. it’ll probably come in the form of an invite to your ex-lover’s wedding or a chat message from your former bully. you’ll learn in that moment that dwelling on the past isn’t pretty or poetic. if the characters of GoT had just let go, some of them would’ve lived. you’ll learn to forgive people eventually, and people will forgive you, too.
happiness will walk in when you’re not looking. the best moments from this year will not come from your big events. it’s not going to be on your birthday or during the vacation you’ve been planning since the travel industry boomed. it will be during the wee hours of the night, when your stomach is sore from too much laughter and your best friend is sitting next to you. it’s during the hottest day of the year and you find a cool spot inside your room. it’s when you walk into a bookstore and seeing a book you’ve been wanting to read—then you find out you have extra money to spend for it. happy isn’t always going to be what you expected it but you’ll learn that even your small moments? they count.
the hardest lesson you’ll ever have to learn is to love yourself. there will be days—sometimes weeks and months—that hating yourself is easier than accepting it. when you look in the mirror and see your flaws, it’s easy to wish you were somebody else instead. when you fail, it’s easy to think that everybody’s lives will be better if you stopped breathing. but you can do it. you can get to the point where you love yourself enough to hold your head up high even on your worst day. you can get to the point where you love yourself enough to get out of bed and talk yourself into going to work.
if there’s anything i’ve learned over the last few years it’s that half of the solution to all our problems is just getting out of bed and tackling on the things we don’t like about ourselves. it’s not easy. i don’t have tips on how to do it but the trick is to get out of bed anyway and just go on and on; and be yourself in a world that constantly convinces you to be somebody else.
stay alive. stay you. live for the good days, live for the bad days. live for whatever burns your passion. when Rome burned to the ground, the emperor didn’t leave. he stayed and sang for his people. you’re obviously not an emperor but you get the point.
are you still here? good.
this is going to be one hell of a year but you’re a star—light years worth of life and dreams and wishes. let’s gracefully burn 2017 to the ground, together. (of course metaphorically. i mean, im not an arsonist.)
a fellow millennial who chose to write this nonsense on top of all the things i really needed to do (great start, you guys!)