New Years Eve was always the time of year I’d compile a novel of resolutions that would make me a better me. I’d vow to make a 4.0, lose weight, or try a new hobby and stick to it faithfully for about a month, but by the time February rolled around, I’d be back to the same lifestyle I had the year before.
This year, tired of the endless cycle of discontentment, I wanted to try something different. I made one resolution. (Not 100. Just one.)
The resolution I made was to be more content with my life the way it is and to be more aware of the little things that make each special and unique. January has come and gone a lot less stressful than the Januarys before, where I’d scramble from one thing to another, trying to make time to fit in everything I wanted to accomplish.
Don’t get me wrong… I still run around frantically, signing up for way too many things and I still take delight in making goals to help me be a more well-rounded person, but I’ve realized that being a better me is not about spending more time at the gym, studying more or winning an award. Those things are great, but constantly trying to change who I am isn’t helping anyone.
This year I’m striving to think more positively without letting little imperfections weigh me down. I will never be resolution Lauren or the perfect embodiment of the prestigious list I composed every year on New Years Eve. This year I’m just going to be a more content and appreciative me.