In 2017 I Resolve To Remember My Worth

I’ll go to the gym. I’ll volunteer. I’ll eat better, live better, be stronger. In a sense, New Year’s Resolutions are a way of testing our resolve — of looking back at what you have no interest in repeating and seeing just how long you can keep those things behind you. With each item on the list, we are essentially going, “I resolve to turn a new leaf, to go down a new path, to leave behind what needs to be left behind.” Even the superficial resolutions are deep vows to ourselves, reminders that we have unhealthy habits that need dropping, that there is so much to do in this world.

If 2015 tested my strength, 2016 tested my resolve. And I vow to go in to 2017 with more than just a set of resolutions. I want to dive straight to the core — to what those resolutions actually mean, to the promises made to our souls.

I want to stick to resolve.

I resolve to remember my worth. I resolve to stop trying to be as small and as unassuming as possible. I resolve to step forward more often and be bigger more often and take up space and be loud and take pride. I resolve to stop lowering myself just because I worry another person will think I’m too high up.

And I resolve to remember that my worth isn’t based on how many interesting things I can do or extraordinary things I can accomplish. I resolve to remember my worth is innate, as inborn as my soul and as unknown to the outside world as I allow it to be.

I resolve to remember that worth.

I resolve to remember that actions speak louder than words: that apologies and promises mean nothing if you find yourself in the same cycle, over and over again. I resolve to remember that my time and my energy are valuable. I cannot be wasting them by going in circles. I resolve to remember the very definition of insanity is doing the same thing, over and over, expecting a different outcome. I resolve to recognize patterns quicker and to have the guts to stop repeating them.

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to communicate directly. I resolve to speak clearly — not skirt around the issues and hope people will infer & sympathize. I resolve to plant both feet when I talk, never again retreating back or dropping the subject entirely. I resolve to never downplay what I’m saying ever again, hurting myself because I don’t want the other person to get hurt. I resolve to never again silence my suffering at the feet of someone else’s sob story. I resolve to let my voice be loud and clear, to state simply:

“The things you’ve done have brought me pain.”

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to kill the Cool Girl off, once and for all. I resolve to stop saying, “It’s fine,” when it’s not, it’s not, it’s really fucking not. I resolve to speak in real time when things are killing my soul, to speak in real time when my soul needs something. I resolve to kill off this notion that the only way I can be in people’s lives is if I have no wants, no needs, no hang ups, no anything.

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to continue to be proactive about removing the things that drain my soul — and embellishing the things that feed it. I resolve to remember it’s on me to break cycles, to step away from toxic situations, to step forward towards the things I want. I resolve to — never again — meekly state my situation and hope someone cares enough to listen and change. Because, the thing is — they don’t. It’s on me to blaze the trail and cut out what’s in my way.

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to keep my eyes more open, to not be so blind as to what is blatantly in front of me. I resolve to be a little less naive, a little more assertive. I resolve to be vigilante, to not wait until things have to be spelled out for me before I finally act. I resolve to hold truth in both hands and accept it to the best of my ability. I resolve to remember there’s a world of difference between positive self-talk and outright denial. I resolve to not wait until I’ve tapped out my reserves before I finally say, “I won’t give anymore.”

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to take more time to feel the miracle of things, to fight mercilessly against the despair of the world. To continue to retreat to the mountains and visit the ocean and dive headfirst into life. I resolve to continue my inquiries, both around and inside of me. I resolve to be fearless in my pursuits, to let unanswerable questions hang where they must, to solve what can be solved, to build what can be built.

I resolve to remember my worth.

I resolve to remember what is good about me, and to finally drop that “broken” narrative, once and for all. I resolve to remember the warrior within me that has gotten me as far as she has — and remember that she’s done a pretty damn good job, all things considered. I resolve to banish the part of me that’s quick to label myself as crazy just because I have emotions, just because I find myself at my wit’s end when I’m hurting. I resolve to remember there’s a world of difference between regulating responses and outright invalidating feelings.

I resolve to remember I already have resolve, that I’ve come this far with it, and to not act like it’s something I must dig up, create from scratch, make out of absolutely nothing. Much like my mind, my body, my heart, my spirit, it’s not some shattered thing that I have to scramble to piece together again. It’s a force in its own right, one that simply can be built from.

I resolve to remember my worth. And to never forget it again.