Eyeliner, Resolutions, and Finding a New Path
Goodbye 2023. Hello 2024!
A year ago, I was being herded through Edinburgh’s crowded streets, dodging elbows and spikey heels as if I were participating in an obstacle course. I was shaking cold and wet, trying to find a quiet place - or a less congested space - to drink my over-priced cider. Under my breath, and sometimes to my friends, I griped like Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, “I’m too old for this sh*t.”
After an hour or so, my friends and I had enough of the Hogmanay Street party. We found a break in the event fence, hurried through before security caught us, and skedaddled for the next tram home. It was there, in a row of navy plastic seats, where my friends and I counted down the new year. Not what I expected, but much better than the communal celebration happening on Princes Street that tested my patience.
This New Year’s Eve, my partner and I enjoyed the quiet comfort of home. With our oversized fleece hoodies, we shared snacks and laughter and celebrated - just us two - in the living room. From the skylights, we caught the neighbor’s fireworks show, sprinkling its remnants onto the roof like fallen stars. We even missed the official countdown, streaming from YouTube, but it was pure bliss. Magically simple. The kind of energy one can hope for, the kind of energy you want for the year ahead.
For the last week, my social media has been flooded with everyone’s New Year’s resolutions: Lose weight, travel more, be financially secure, take more photos. I don’t usually make resolutions, but I did make a 2024 Bingo Card this year of nine things I want to accomplish. I won’t call them resolutions because they’re not things I want to change or resolve, but targets I want to achieve. Like, ‘Read 24 books’ or ‘Get my UK Driver’s License,’ and ‘Take a pottery class.’ I can just as easily set new goals throughout the year, but I’m a sucker for tradition, and is there ever a better time to set new intentions? I think not.
Babylonians were making New Year’s resolutions over 4,000 years ago. Not in January, but in April - at the end of their calendar year - during the religious festival of Akitu. Most of these resolutions were in honor of their King or the Gods, or how they were going to repay debts. Ancient Romans often made sacrifices with pledges to be better or do more in the coming year. In the Middle Ages, Knights set resolutions to carry on and preserve the values and principles of knighthood.
In the early 1800s’, people began sharing their resolutions, similar to what we do/set today. A Boston newspaper published the first recorded use of the term in 1813. “And yet, I believe there are multitudes of people, accustomed to receive injunctions of new year resolutions, who will sin all the month of December, with a serious determination of beginning the new year with new resolutions and new behavior, and with the full belief that they shall thus expiate and wipe away all their former faults.” (Insight)
Today, New Year’s resolutions seem to be less about honoring religious icons or spiritual belief systems, and much more personal: lose weight, drink less alcohol, and give up smoking. Most resolutions are so big and demanding of time and discipline that most people abandon them pretty quickly. According to a report shared with Prestige, “23% of people quit their resolution within the first week, and 43% bow out by the end of January.” If that’s truly the case, then who are resolutions really for?
If we share them with others, are we doing it for accountability purposes or to inspire others to do the same? Has sharing our resolutions become merely social practice, a conduit for bragging, or a way to encourage conversation? Is it about tradition or just something we’ve become accustomed to doing?
In the past, years ago, I may have felt social pressure to create BIG resolutions: be a boss bitch, make lots of money, or win some outrageous award. Probably feeling, on some level, that I had to desire the grandiose or make significant changes when clearly, my heart desired something else.
I’ve never really shared my goals or resolutions with others. I often keep them privately locked up in my journal or hidden deep in my computer. If I’m being honest, that’s more about my lack of confidence than shame, and maybe my ego. Despite wholeheartedly believing I can achieve anything, the waves of imposter syndrome hit occasionally, and I can easily drown in self-doubt. And if I don’t share my resolutions or goals - and don’t succeed in bringing them to fruition - I only let myself down. I don’t have to worry about being condemned by those who’d like to see me fail or who knew I would never succeed. Then I only disappoint myself.
I’ve been reflecting a lot on 2023. What I did, who I loved, and how it felt to survive through life’s vast array of emotions and experiences. I traveled far less this year: Brussels, a few trips to England, to the US to see family, and around my new home of Scotland. I published here and there, taking the much-needed time to study, read, and write deeper than I had ever done before. And for the first time in my entire life, I felt far more internal peace, but none of those were 2023 goals. I didn’t seek any of them out.
Last year, when I set out for New Year’s Eve in downtown Edinburgh, I imagined a once-in-a-lifetime experience with great friends, fireworks, and sparkly drinks. And I got that, just not in the way I expected. In hindsight, the fact that it was an imperfect night made it perfect. Just like this New Year’s with my partner. I had no expectations other than I wanted to be with him, and it was great.
For 2024, I’d like to remain open to the possibility of anything and everything coming into my life. Sure, I have set little goals, but I’m viewing them as guideposts. A way to remain excited about life and what I can achieve. I’m not setting big expectations, but I’m not gonna lie, I feel like 2024 will be one for the books. I guess we’ll see.
I do like to think our ancestors were on to something when they started creating New Year’s resolutions all those years ago. Otherwise, why would we be doing it for so long? But maybe we need to refocus on our intentions and the reality of expectations. Maybe we need to build them as we go. Like, making mini markers - taking baby steps - to get to that big change or achievement. Maybe resolutions are about accountability, sharing them collectively, and encouraging one another to keep going and not give up. And, maybe, more so, for ourselves. Maybe resolutions are nothing more than a representation of hope, belief, and resilience. I’m not quite sure, but shall we give it a try? I’d love to hear your hopes, no matter how big or small, for the New Year. Feel free to leave a comment below.
In the meantime, feel free to watch this video of Will Ferrell sharing his New Year's resolutions, maybe it’ll inspire you or just make you laugh.
This turned out much longer than I had anticipated but I hope you’ll join me as I share my Current Musings (personal essays), what made me laugh (Giggle Box), what I’m reading (The Nightstand), and much more. I hope you’ll subscribe and join me on this journey: the remaining months of my 30s and the new decade ahead. I’m planning some fun things and would so love the company.
Mucho Love,
Felicia
This week, I’ve been dealing with a chest infection. At one point, I really thought my lungs were going to come up out of my body - that I was going to croak mid-convulsion, but despite feeling crummy, I still found things to enjoy.
Like these videos: Gym Love / Yeet Puppy / My Future Self, and this article, ‘I was Drunk, obviously: the Wild Ways that stars bagged their big break.’
I was excited to read, ‘Eyeliner: A Cultural History’ by Zahra Hankir. Months before its release date, I flagged it as my potential new favorite. Who would have thought my prized - can’t live without - cosmetic had such a rich history? The book promised a bevy of intriguing elements: cultural history & reflection, the notion of beauty, journalism, and interviews, but sadly, for me, the book was a little disappointing.
Sure, there are fascinating topics here; a dive into Neferti’s immortal beauty, Drag and Chola history, and even the chapter about Amy Winehouse, but most of the material felt redundant and could have been simplified into a series of shorter chapters/essays. Don’t get me wrong, there were parts I enjoyed - ‘Eye Paint As Resistance,’ in particular - but it was Hankir’s narrative voice - often dry and more informative than personal - that prevented me from loving this book. Maybe my expectations were too high, or I’ve been taking way too much cold medicine, but something felt missing or incomplete. I can’t quite put my finger on what though.
I understand that reviews are subjective so, if you enjoy reading nonfiction that can broaden and define objects you previously didn’t think much about, then give it a try. I would love to hear your thoughts. Learn more about the book.
My rating: 3 stars
Why Ferocious?
Why have I decided to start a biweekly newsletter?
Over the last decade, I have sold hundreds of pieces: personal essays, poems, travel + cultural news articles, etc, etc. Some work was silly and nonsensical, a means to pay bills or save for a dream vacation. Like writing about pop culture icons, pet astrology, or the ‘10 Lessons That 90s Boybands Taught Me.’ (All things I enjoy, but you get what I’m saying…) And it was these silly articles that eventually opened new doors - new opportunities - to share my own stories.
Even before I knew what I was doing - when I was just a kid writing about my life, the lessons I learned, or what I was observing - I was writing personal essays. I’ve enjoyed the process of being one’s own philosopher. When detailing life’s hardships, with its ever-changing and evolving emotions, writing seemed to provide answers and healing. Through it all, I’ve connected with many amazing people, many of whom have chosen to share their own stories with me. It’s been an honor, a true highlight, but lately, someone hasn’t felt right.
My essays have often been over-edited, condensed, or changed by editors or publishers to appeal to a wide demographic. Often, choices were made - that I felt - didn’t reflect my voice or changed the overall meaning of a piece. They would change the name of the cities I was writing about or remove humor because they wanted it to be more serious. You know, for clickbait reasons. And if you know me - like really know me - you know I don’t take anything too seriously. I try to find hope and humor in even the most painful of moments, but because a check had been written, or a contract was signed, I lost some of that control. In short: I’m tired of feeling censored or held back.
My writing friends and I have often discussed the current writing market and it feels like you can’t get published anymore unless you’re a celebrity, or influencer, or have recently gone viral. Frankly, I am sick and tired of cycling through a broken system, waving a flag to never be seen. I want to write without being held back by someone else’s ideals or aspirations. So, I have decided I want to use my voice, exactly how I want to use it. This is why I have started Ferocious.
Sure, I will still submit and publish pieces traditionally, but I wanted a place to share all my other writings, where I could boldly share - untamed and with fierce passion - the varied aspects of myself with readers. I can’t wait to share more of myself with you.
Love this!! My only resolution is to remember to write 2024 and not 2023! I gave up resolutions long ago! Love you my friend! ❤️