I started this blog over two years ago but, before converting to this modern form of journaling, I’ve accumulated quite a few diaries over the course of my life. Each year, on January 1st, I sit down with my journal/diary/blog and develop a list of resolutions or goals to strive for throughout the year. I figure if it’s in writing, I’m more likely to GET IT DONE (I read something along those lines in a Self-Help book).

Last year, I went big. I created a vision board that mapped out my 1-year, 5-year, and 10-year goals for myself. I attempted to make all the goals really measurable and attainable. And, to be completely honest, it’s the first time I followed through with more than one objective.

I started a book club.

I held a Professional Development session for teachers.

And I ran a half marathon. (Not the SD marathon that’s stated on my vision board, but I figure Nike counts).

But, despite accomplishing so much this past year and feeling a sense of PRIDE, I actually felt a little bummed when I was looking through my vision board and found that I fell short of one particular objective.

In December 2013, I created a goal to lose 1 pound a week (on average) until June. At the time, I thought I was being practical and that the goal was definitely attainable for me. I had actually been on track to meet it until February. Until I got bronchitis and was on bed rest for a whole week. From that point forward, it was just back to that yo-yo crap.

I felt like, at that point, I had missed too many weeks to continue on with my goal. And, instead of simply persisting – knowing that I would fall a little short – I just stopped caring about it.

And then a few weeks ago, when I pulled up my vision board to review my goals, I felt a sense of sadness. Over that one goal. As if that was the only thing that mattered.

Year after year, my resolutions have been centered around ONE thing (or, rather, I place the most importance on the one thing): losing weight.

Even at my healthiest and most fit, my goal was to lose even more. Because I wasn’t “there” yet. I don’t even know what “there” was supposed to be. I just knew that I wasn’t good enough. And I could always be better.

Sure, we, as humans, can always strive to be better. But for some reason applying that mantra to my weight loss just didn’t seem like the healthiest thing to do. 

So, as I sit here reflecting on what I want this year to look like for me, I know what I do not want it to look like come December 2015.

So, I am saying this in a public forum. And I am saying this because I genuinely, honestly, with all of my heart and soul BELIEVE this.

I am enough.

I am enough.

I am enough.

I may never fit into a pair of size 4 pants. And I will probably always have some jiggle on my arms.

I like chocolate and French fries and wine way too much to ever consider a life without them.

I don’t enjoy doing Burpees. And, sometimes, I would rather curl up with a book instead of go to the gym.

Despite all that, I AM ENOUGH. 

I refuse to let the number on a scale define who I am and determine the level of happiness I should feel.

I refuse to let a number make me feel like all my other accomplishments aren’t INCREDIBLE and worth acknowledging.

Because I am so much more than a number.

I am enough.

With that being said, the only resolution I have set for myself for 2015 is to do more things that make me happy. Like giggly, giddy, childish and happy. Because when I look back at 2014, it’s those moments that I remember. Not the ones where I was standing on a scale and celebrated a pound lost.

And, at the end of the day and the end of the year, if I am happy, then everything else just seems to fall into place.

Question of the Day:

• What NY resolutions did you keep from last year?
  
• What resolutions do you have for 2015?