I found a victory for every day in 2018. This is what I learned.
Exactly a year ago today, I was walking my two dogs around the neighborhood and I had an idea. “What if I found a good thing out of every day… and what if I TOLD people about it?” I think it blossomed from the fact that I was proud of myself for taking that walk to begin with. By the end of the walk, I had decided that I would come up with a victory for the previous day and post it on Facebook.
I chose Facebook because I have the most friends there - which means it was the hardest to share. On Twitter, I don’t post regularly so I don’t really have an audience. Instagram is my favorite site, but I didn’t want to turn it into a photo project. Nope, it had to be Facebook. Because one of the things I hate about Facebook is how everyone knows your stuff. One post seen by one acquaintance and shared to others beyond your control.
My usual protection plan for these things is to limit my friends list. It’s only people I’ll actually talk to when I see them. That way I don’t have to be cautious about what I’m saying. These are people who know me and can handle my rants about bumper stickers and squeeling about Lady Gaga.
My choice to post on Facebook was a way for me to turn my dislike of Everyone Knows Your Stuff on its head. I have a tendency to isolate and hold stuff in, now I was choosing to tell people about my shit. Because let’s be honest, friends. Some of these victories are crap.
Ok, ok, they are are VICTORIES, so yes in that way, they are positive aka good. There were three days where I just couldn’t for the life of me find a victory and there’s one day where I forgot to post anything. But that’s 361 victories, which is 98.9%,which is an A, so I’m not about to go back to the teacher and ask for more work to make it higher… ANYWAY.
If we run those crap goals through a translator:
Took A Shower = convinced myself to bathe only to lay down and rest for 15 minutes afterward
Got Dressed = changed from one pair of sweat pants to a different pair
Stayed Hydrated = spent all day (and two previous days) on the couch watching GBBS and crying and craving fried foods and ice cream and getting mad at the dogs because they’re restless Hey Guess What Dogs So Am I You Think I WANT To Do This Please Stop Staring At Me Now You Are Making Me Cry
Those days didn’t usually feel like a victory as I was posting it. But the weeks and months passed, and something shifted in my perspective. The small steps felt more important and easier to recognize. I wasn’t actively looking back on the year but when you have to write it down, your brain remembers more.
And here’s what I learned:
It hurts less. I’ve been in therapy for 18 years, I have a bachelor in psychology and a masters degree in counseling. And it still took the act of actually DOING the sharing for me to really believe this one. When I talked about the shit, people reached out. Encouraged me, shared their similar stories, or simply said “I see you,” acknowledging that my pain is real, who I am is real and seen and not invisible.
Your people/tribe/squad/Quidditch Team show up. If you give people a chance, they show up. Robby was on vacation for 12 days and I was running solo and scared about it. Y’all showed the hell up. Even if all you did was comment and say “you can do it,” I Felt It. It was there, in all of its internetty permanence to remind me that you care about me. The voice that likes to remind me that no one cares got a big punch to the throat.
Your people/tribe/squad/Quidditch Team may not be the ones you expect. This is the toughest lesson. There are people I expected to be on my Team. But an honest look back shows that they didn’t show up to tryouts. Sure, they might be in the same House as you, but they aren’t teammates. This will hurt. A lot. Accepting this truth brings freedom and an actual physical lightness in your chest.
Honesty works. Telling someone that they hurt your feelings or overstepped a boundary is hard. I practiced doing that with my friends this year (how do you stop a behavior if you don’t know a behavior is hurting?). It feels really good. At least it does after. During it you sometimes wanna throw up, but run with it. Friendships become better and stronger.
I am loved. Every like, every comment. It’s proof that I’m seen, that people are cheering me on. Even if all I did was put on new sweatpants.
I chose Facebook because I have the most friends there - which means it was the hardest to share. On Twitter, I don’t post regularly so I don’t really have an audience. Instagram is my favorite site, but I didn’t want to turn it into a photo project. Nope, it had to be Facebook. Because one of the things I hate about Facebook is how everyone knows your stuff. One post seen by one acquaintance and shared to others beyond your control.
My usual protection plan for these things is to limit my friends list. It’s only people I’ll actually talk to when I see them. That way I don’t have to be cautious about what I’m saying. These are people who know me and can handle my rants about bumper stickers and squeeling about Lady Gaga.
My choice to post on Facebook was a way for me to turn my dislike of Everyone Knows Your Stuff on its head. I have a tendency to isolate and hold stuff in, now I was choosing to tell people about my shit. Because let’s be honest, friends. Some of these victories are crap.
Ok, ok, they are are VICTORIES, so yes in that way, they are positive aka good. There were three days where I just couldn’t for the life of me find a victory and there’s one day where I forgot to post anything. But that’s 361 victories, which is 98.9%,which is an A, so I’m not about to go back to the teacher and ask for more work to make it higher… ANYWAY.
If we run those crap goals through a translator:
Took A Shower = convinced myself to bathe only to lay down and rest for 15 minutes afterward
Got Dressed = changed from one pair of sweat pants to a different pair
Stayed Hydrated = spent all day (and two previous days) on the couch watching GBBS and crying and craving fried foods and ice cream and getting mad at the dogs because they’re restless Hey Guess What Dogs So Am I You Think I WANT To Do This Please Stop Staring At Me Now You Are Making Me Cry
Those days didn’t usually feel like a victory as I was posting it. But the weeks and months passed, and something shifted in my perspective. The small steps felt more important and easier to recognize. I wasn’t actively looking back on the year but when you have to write it down, your brain remembers more.
And here’s what I learned:
It hurts less. I’ve been in therapy for 18 years, I have a bachelor in psychology and a masters degree in counseling. And it still took the act of actually DOING the sharing for me to really believe this one. When I talked about the shit, people reached out. Encouraged me, shared their similar stories, or simply said “I see you,” acknowledging that my pain is real, who I am is real and seen and not invisible.
Your people/tribe/squad/Quidditch Team show up. If you give people a chance, they show up. Robby was on vacation for 12 days and I was running solo and scared about it. Y’all showed the hell up. Even if all you did was comment and say “you can do it,” I Felt It. It was there, in all of its internetty permanence to remind me that you care about me. The voice that likes to remind me that no one cares got a big punch to the throat.
Your people/tribe/squad/Quidditch Team may not be the ones you expect. This is the toughest lesson. There are people I expected to be on my Team. But an honest look back shows that they didn’t show up to tryouts. Sure, they might be in the same House as you, but they aren’t teammates. This will hurt. A lot. Accepting this truth brings freedom and an actual physical lightness in your chest.
Honesty works. Telling someone that they hurt your feelings or overstepped a boundary is hard. I practiced doing that with my friends this year (how do you stop a behavior if you don’t know a behavior is hurting?). It feels really good. At least it does after. During it you sometimes wanna throw up, but run with it. Friendships become better and stronger.
I am loved. Every like, every comment. It’s proof that I’m seen, that people are cheering me on. Even if all I did was put on new sweatpants.