This is by no means a “pity-party” post or one to serve as a tool to toot my own horn. I’m not exactly sure why I feel such a strong compulsion to gush about how my New Year has been faring so far, but I think it is largely due to the fact that I’m unsure how to process each aspect of it. It’s only the 17th of January and, yet, so much has happened that I feel like I could be well in March or the beginning of April.

Last year around this time, I was just “figuring it out.” Yeah, I’ll write here and there or when I remember. Oh, I should probably practice dancing for a little while today. I’ll finish editing my resume tomorrow night so I can apply for more jobs and internships. The list of things I wanted to (start to) figure out could go on and on. My problem around this time last year, however, was figuring out how to start figuring things out. It’s just like writing an essay; the first few lines are always the most difficult to write because they could potentially make or break you, in the sense of grades and your intellectual credibility. So, as a result, you push your computer with its blank document aside, spending hours telling yourself you’ll “figure it out” instead.

Last year around this time, I was selling myself too short. I set my sights too low and, to be quite honest, didn’t have many standards set to begin with. I liked whatever or whomever liked me because it’s easy that way. Everyone likes easy, right? No worry or cause for self-doubt and second guessing. No added stress or unnecessary trips made into your inner being, forcing you to actually get in touch with your emotions. That’s too difficult, too familiar and too foreign because you’ve taught yourself to unlearn the too familiar. So you opt out of the difficult (what you really want) for the easy (what will have to do) for any reason imaginable: “I’m too busy with work to have a relationship,” “I’m focusing on my career,” “I think I need to figure myself out first before I could try to be with someone.” And so you continue to figure yourself out, while sitting on your couch watching “The Notebook” by yourself on a Tuesday night, cradling a glass of red wine and a box of cupcakes. 

This year, this time, things are different. Far different than I would have imagined or anticipated. I have a job, and hopefully, will be offered one or two more positions within the span of the next couple of weeks. I was just recently offered a writing/blogging internship. I’m dancing and training more than I have in years, focusing on the upcoming Thesis Performance in April. I’ve been forced through Hell and back for people I love. I’ve even willingly thrown myself into the fiery depths for the split-second chance that someone I care deeply for could be happy.

This year, this time, things are different. Writing this as I wait for my ride to get to my parents’ house so we can drive back to school in San Francisco together, I have to admit I’m incredibly nervous, more afraid than I have ever been in my life. Thinking of everything I will be doing within the next four months alone, I almost have every inclination to back out. Almost. Sure, I’m a full-time student with a class schedule of the maximum amount of credits, working, trying to work more, working at rehearsals, working on my writing, working on the side, working to foster real relationships with people who have more potential and kinder hearts than half the world combined could offer. And I can sure as Hell imagine myself crying in the corner of my room at some obscene hour the night before a deadline or watching “[Insert Sad, Cliche Love Movie Title Here]” on a random weekday by myself, cradling a glass of red wine and a box of cupcakes because I’m too stressed out, or too afraid to try, so I opt for the easy.

But more than being nervous, more than being afraid, I’m excited. Excited to the point, I can barely keep still. So excited I have every urge and inclination to yell and cry and laugh all at once (I’ll make it possible) and do it all over again. If I thought I was “figuring things out” this time last year, the me then is going to have a run for her money when she takes a look at the me now.

2012, keep it coming.

I’m ready for you.