You Love Yourself, Then You Outgrow Yourself

I became a version of me that I loved, then I outgrew her.

For whatever reason, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s felt like a six-week holiday—and quite frankly, I’m still recovering.

My eating schedule is wrecked, my sleeping schedule is worse, my work-life balance is embarrassing, and I cannot, for the life of me, stop binging RHONY. I’m many things, a show binger has never been one.

Last year, I was training for a marathon, doing yoga twice a week, cheffing like Gordon, and even getting to a point where I enjoyed the torture chamber (Solidcore).

Although that was my first full year in New York City, and in some ways, the hardest year of my life, I walked out of it prouder than ever. So proud that I allowed myself to push my growth to the wayside for six weeks. Unfortunately, I’m forced to face the consequences of my actions—and like… rebuild.

The first order of business is becoming aware.

It was the third Sunday of January when I knew I needed to make a change.

I’d wrapped up an amazing client meeting at 9 pm, phoned a friend to chat, and enjoyed a beautifully pre-rolled jay that I would not have treated myself to that late at night last year; because I don’t like anything messing with my REM sleep.

As I flicked the lighter, I considered making tea and preparing to wind down differently. But then I remembered I wouldn’t be a childless, partnerless 20-something with a flexible schedule and possessor of a beautifully pre-rolled jay forever, so I disregarded the Puritan thought.

Right after the gardening session, I remember liking the feeling but feeling like I could’ve gone without.

Before the holidays, I had a strict gardening schedule that prevented that pastime for four days out of every week. That was the healthiest relationship Mary Jane & I’d had in years.

“Tomorrow”, I thought to myself.

When tomorrow came, it started super strong. I woke up a little earlier than I had been, and I finished my to-do list a little earlier, too. I even attempted to go to an evening workout class, but the New Year’s rush didn’t leave any availability for me. So, I used my AMC membership to see a movie, which 99% of the time means I’m accompanied by a garden gummy, and this time happened to fall within the 99%.

Garden gummies are a part of my cinema routine because they amplify my experience, as well as my appetite, further wrecking my eating schedule, and certainly my REM sleep…

Nonetheless, I enjoyed my time. I loved all of my snacks, I giggled my ass off during A Complete Unknown, and I was in good company (the garden gummy and a friend).

When I got home, the feeling of feeling like I could’ve gone without resurfaced. So, I invested a couple more hours of work to get ahead for the next day.

“Tomorrow”, I thought to myself.

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Tomorrow came after an 11-hour slumber.

I woke up sideways confused as to when I fell asleep.

Thank gawd I spent the previous night getting ahead because I felt bad for not listening to myself.

This was finally the day I did what I said I’d do in a [more] timely fashion.

I said no to gardening, I Gordon Ramseyed, I taught a fitness class and worked out in it, I finished my work a little earlier, and my REM sleep was superb.

It felt good to not say “tomorrow”.

The next day, life flowed by easily. Most of my wellness boxes were checked off, other than working late into the night. For whatever reason, it took me the longest to realize this was an issue. That is until tomorrow rolled around.

My day was much clearer because of the heavy workload earlier in the week, which I appreciated because the constant rumors of the TikTok ban caused me to ignore my app limit at least 30 times.

Sadly, doom scrolling revitalizes all of my bad habits. If I had not found something to do that night one of my wellness boxes would’ve been left unchecked, or even worse, I’d be saying “tomorrow”.

So, I texted the best accountability partner I know, scheduled a 75-minute candlelit hot yoga class and savasana’d so hard I met God. For the second time.

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This extreme awareness of wellness comes with a great lesson.

I’ve been using who I was to influence who I should be without taking into consideration who I am now.

While I feel fit and am happy to be eating well, the reason I prefer to escape is that I’m truly exhausted. The frigid, bleak weather isn’t inviting, which is why I haven’t been walking as much and I could really be drinking more water.

Maybe the reason I feel guilty for doom scrolling stems from the fact that I love creating content and I should do more of that.

I should read more.

Or leave my house to do work so I can actually wind down.

Or bundle up more so I can experience more fresh air.

Or add new wellness boxes and remove what doesn’t make sense anymore.

As good as last year made me feel, this year is already much better in different ways. Comparing who I am now to who I was is unfair, and restricts my growth.

Maybe the escapism was trying to tell me that all along.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll hear louder and clearer.