It’s (almost) officially the end of December and the end of 2024. I’m currently enjoying the post-Christmas, pre-NYE haze of wondering what day it is and how many cookies I’ve consumed. It’s the part of the year I always look forward to because it’s usually the only time of the year I get to rest and be completely selfish with my time (as we all should be!) However, this year was a little different. I didn’t work my normal 12-hour days, while also juggling mom-life. For most of this year, I got to control my schedule and my days— a rare gift, but also an unsettling time.
When I look back on this year, I don’t think I’ll remember specific events or projects that I worked on and completed. I’ll think about the community that continues to guide my life, and the amazing community of people I’ve found this year. I’ll think about writing every single day— whether it be a journal entry, substack post, poem, my twenty-first pilot, hundreds of audio drama episodes, a candidate speech (or three), a PTA email, a lesson plan, countless notes, prose, a stand-up set, podcast pitches, outlines, letters, cards— and how it all served as a reminder of who I am and who I always will be, despite where my paycheck is coming from. And I’ll think about how my son transitioned from a little boy to a full-on kid with his own struggles and values and interests, and how I was able to be watch and guide directly from the sidelines (or in the wings of the stage). How despite a lot of circumstances being stacked against us, we are happy and hopeful— a huge feat in any year, but especially this one.
In the last five years I’ve done a lot of rebuilding. I think this past year, I’ve finally been able to take stock of all the beautiful (and difficult) regrowth. My flowers began to sprout in the form of friendship and community— the exact kind I thought I lost because of divorce and covid. Back in 2020, I dreaded the idea of being alone during the holidays because it would serve as a reminder of my “unique situation.” While being a single parent continues, and will always be a challenge (see: last post, lol), I’m embracing the difficulty and learning to celebrate it, instead of feeling pressured by it.
I’ve learned I’m very good at walking the tight-rope walk that most people don’t even attempt, but I need time to recover. That means sacrificing a thriving social life (lol, including any sort of dating), but relishing those dinner dates with friends, playdates, and mixers.
So even though this year may not have a long list of accomplishments, or even much of a review, I’ll always remember how my community continued to show up for me, time and time again, in all the ways I needed them to.
I’m picturing myself driving into 2025, a smirk on my lips as I glance back at 2024 in the rearview, and to my relief and glee, there’s a whole caravan of cars filled with familiar faces reminding me that they have my back and we’re driving into the unknown together.
Happy last day of 2024, and here’s to a bright 2025! Thanks for being here.