I used to say New Year’s was my favorite holiday if prompted by the question. And I have always held a special sense of pride for the date of my birthday — June 1. I love the allure of the concept of starting anew. “New year, new me” is more than just a cliché to me. I love making New Year’s resolutions, and I always stick to at least some of them. Being born on the first day of the month instilled in me a similar subconscious drive for personal reinvention. But I’m never perfectly successful in creating myself — and my life — in the way I want. Because that’s not possible.
I’ve been starting to navigate the concept of imperfection more and more. I’m a perfectionist and I love it — most of the time. I have an addiction to obsessively organizing my life on Notion, highlighted by my excessively punctilious to-do lists. Organizing to my inner-perfectionistic liking keeps my mind at peace. That’s why I enjoy it. I can’t imagine living my life in another way. But, spontaneous plans are bound to burn a hole in my to-do list, and I’d like to be able to enjoy those moments without feeling the burden of anxiety from going off schedule. I’d like to be able to take notes in class without rewriting the letters that I think look funny. I’d like to be able to post pictures on Instagram without meticulously lining up the horizon in the back of my photos so it’s straight. I’d like to be able to enjoy my year even if I break my resolutions within the first month. The funny thing is, one of my New Year’s resolutions this year was to be less of a perfectionist.
Realizing that New Year’s is merely a social construct has helped me to take the holiday’s respective resolution culture less seriously. I can make new goals every month, every week, or every day if I want to. I can start my New Year’s resolutions a week early; no one’s stopping me. I don’t need a day to tell me to strive for perfection — and I don’t even need to strive for perfection. While still making strides and taking interest in personal development, I’m no longer as engrossed in the toxic nature of rigid goal-setting. I don’t think I would say anymore that New Year’s is my favorite holiday.