You might have wondered about the giant gap in posts between August and last night, and you also might have wondered whether my Year of Being Fearless worked. No? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway!
I’m Type A to begin with, and I’ve been taught to Quantify All The Things, so gauging success at my annual theme is rough and uncomfortable. But here’s what I know:
This year I sang–by myself, a capella–the National Anthem at two minor league baseball games. I asked for a raise. I flew to California to visit a friend I’ve never met. I bought a fringed skirt that I’m fairly certain was intended for women half my age, and I wear it at least once a week. I bought a new battery for my car and changed it myself. I changed out my bike’s tires, too. I took a self defense class. I told a guy who was into me to get lost. I asked a really incredible guy out to dinner–and since I’m still not sure if he realized it was a date, I’m probably going to have to do it again! I got all political up in peeps’ Facebook feeds. I built the biggest dollhouse I’ve ever seen because, you know, I had woodshop once in the 8th grade. I went camping without planning a single thing, just trusted a friend and joined her (normally I plan my trips in binders with divided tabs).
And that gap? That’s because I convinced my oldest friend to leave our respective homes and get an apartment together. I’d lived in my house for nine years, and I hate change, but my kids were grown and gone and it was time. To make it happen, I had to get rid of two thirds of my belongings-something I found quite frightening. And let’s not talk about the hard deadline that an end-of-tenancy letter gives you.
So, a year later, where am I at? This journey to freedom clearly isn’t over. Whatever 2017’s theme will be (and I have no idea), hopefully it’ll be grounded on the truths I’ve learned here in 2016.