This year we are doing it scared and we are doing it alone (which honestly makes this like every other year). If I’m being honest, I’ve never really had a support system, maybe occasionally support fragments.
Even when I’ve come across people who have claimed to care about me, they become bewildered by my intelligence, how much I love information, and how much I love to learn. I could never talk about the things that I love or that fascinated me without being shut down in some way or called weird.
So this is really the year that I accept my role as broke, tortured artist trying to make her way in this world & striving for a live her ancestors could only dream of. It’s a lot of pressure, especially to be putting onto myself, but it’s a weight I’ve been carrying my whole life. You don’t just grow up watching the people you love (including yourself) struggling under poverty and not take the necessary steps to pull them out of it. This is me looking into the eyes of the universe and saying “I get it. It’s up to me now.”
That’s scary. Especially when you’re depressed, and tired, and just don’t know where you’re going to find the energy to keep going. It’s terrifying when you feel like you’re racing against time. All I can do is dare to humanize myself through all of this.
After some crying and pouting it has come back to me that I now have this space to talk about it. It’s just out there. Evidence that I was here. That I have feelings, and that they matter.
I deserve to have someone to talk to about the fact that I’m obsessed with the tmobile sidekick rn and I’m trying to make a 3d model of it and I’ve had 3 attempts and its driving me crazy but also so rewarding that each attempt has been better than the last.
Or that in addition to getting minimal sleep this week because of trying to get this website up, I’ve been deconstructing Shopify templates in order to sell them for a passive stream of income. Or about the fact that I just love design.
It’s quiet, and lonely –deprogramming yourself from the corporate conveyor belt, the immigrant mindset that a job is a job no matter what toll it takes on you, and that work matters more than anything else. The financial punishment that comes with that is terrifying too. Even when you know in your heart that everything will be okay.
I pray this year brings me a life that doesn’t require me disappearing into myself in order to maintain. May all the solutions to my problems come with ease, and may I be prepared for the challenges, and remain grateful through it all.
Most of all, I hope I find the people that make me feel safe enough to be my true self. None of the competitive bullshit, or emotional manipulation crap. Sometimes being alone is just easier when you’re constantly masking or feeling like you have to suppress yourself so people don’t feel threatened (and don’t threaten you unprovoked).
I’m tired, even though I feel like I’m at a turning point. I’m so exhausted. And hurt for my younger self. These days I feel like I can’t look at a baby picture of myself without erupting into tears. If anything it should be motivation.
It’s a catch 22 though, because it’s not like I can be vulnerable either. especially growing up in the face of “stop crying” aka “stop crying because your emotions make me uncomfortable”. “Stop crying bc my discomfort is more important than your need for support or connection through the ordeal you’re facing.” “I don’t know why you’re telling me this even though you’re clearly going through a difficult time and you’re asking me for grace and kindness.” Imagine having to ask someone to be kind to you while you’re falling apart. Multiply it by 26 years.
I don’t even know if anyone will ever wind up reading this, but it’s okay to hold your emotions gently, keep them close to you, and protect them so that you can feel safe enough express them freely. What matters most is that you express them. It’ll get easier to manage them by yourself, but the disappointment still stings. People will tell you that you can entrust them with anything and they’ll be there for you. People who will swear that you’re the love of their life and that they love you so much, but can’t even spare a few moments to provide you with tenderness may not love you as much as you think.
It’s not entirely their fault, I don’t even think the awareness is there. Most people want to be ‘good people’, offering up their support before even assessing their emotional capacity or capabilities. Or values even. These things shape the actual ‘help’ people can offer. You might go to someone wanting validation, but they want to provide you with solutions. The thing is, even with a solution, you still have to sit with and process your emotions.
They probably genuinely meant it, but that doesn’t mean they’ll offer you the support that you need. How can someone who is uncomfortable with their own emotions comfort you through yours? Takes a bit of cognitive dissonance doesn’t it? It’s important for you to know what you need so that you can stay grounded while your emotions pass. The people worth keeping around will listen, and at least try to be the listening ear that you need, the shoulder to cry on, the cheerleader supporting you. Otherwise they’re just taking up space and witnessing you in distress. What’s the difference in being alone if that’s the case?
If you actually read this – thanks for sitting in it with me. May your 2026 be precious, and surprise you in the best of ways!
songs leading me into the year:
starting with a classic that has gone platinum in dance parties held in Auntie Jackie’s bedroom.