How Have You Made Yourself Proud This Year?
Starting the Women of Our Year series up again made me think: why are we so reluctant to celebrate ourselves? We talked about impostor syndrome last month, and pretty much came up with the answer — — people, especially women, are taught to downplay their accomplishments, to be self-deprecating and modest, to eschew any sort of praise. Well, that’s bullshit, so this month we’re doing the opposite. I asked a group of women: how are you the woman of your year? It was deeply inspired by Haley, as everything good in this world is, so I’ll let her explain it more.
I went to the Bullish Conference this year as a speaker; last year I was working for Jen and went as her assistant. Obviously I was looking forward to a lot of Miami-related things (sun, pools, drinks with umbrellas in them, sweatpants with words printed on the butt and triangle bikinis in theory only, never practice), but mostly I wanted to re-do this one exercise Jen always does: Design Your 2015, an end-of-the-year wrap up where conference attendees are supposed to think about their goals and values instead of resolutions, which, as Jen has said in the past, is really more about what you’re not going to do (eat, drink, anything fun) then what you actually want to accomplish, which is just self-defeatist in theory and practice.
Anyway!! It’s sort of a nice treat to sit by the pool and actually look at your goals paired with some really useful questions, like: “Who can help you with this goal? What are some one-time actions you need to do to achieve this goal? What are some recurring actions you need to do to achieve this goal?” and so on.
One question that did make me pause, however, was a retrospective one: “What are you proudest of doing in the last year? BRAG HERE.” I mean, sorry to be predictable, but my first instinct was to say: nothing. I’m not proud of anything, I don’t have anything to brag about, I did better than some but not as good as most, I should basically be hanging my head in shame. This is probably some distant relative of Imposter Syndrome; not just that you don’t feel like you belong anywhere, but that once you’ve been accepted and embraced, you don’t feel like it’s something to brag about. Like, I got some new job this past year?! I went on a book tour?? I spent a lot of time with women who I love and respect and prioritized their friendships over hiding in some dark work cave?!? These are things I should brag about, at least a little bit, or acknowledge that I worked hard for them and that I am proud of them, because humility and modesty is just code for “wait quietly until someone else tells you it’s ok to be proud” and fuck that noise.
So when Jazmine started working on this month’s One Big Question, I thought that this was what I wanted to ask my friends and colleagues: not about their feelings of professional inadequacy or belonging, but instead to brag about all the cool shit they’re doing, about what they’re proud of, because, like, I follow all of you guys on Twitter and I see your bylines and hear from our mutual friends about all the hard work you’re doing, so let’s not be coy, let’s not be bashful, let’s dispense with that cute Snow White shit and own our accomplishments and let ourselves be applauded by our friends and peers for all the cool shit we’ve done in the last year.
Haley Mlotek
My biggest successes of the year are all intrinsically tied to failure. In 2014, I stopped letting my intense fear of failing have complete ownership over my actions. I pursued professional, creative and romantic long-shots with intensity, poured everything I had into them, failed repeatedly, and somehow managed to survive the whole thing and (most amazingly) grow as a human being. It was a fucking brutal learning curve, but in the end, I’m immensely proud of the bravery it took to be vulnerable, try for the sake of trying and fail completely. This is why I’m Woman of the Year (and the proud Queen of Failure).
Madeleine Davies
I’m proud of being more assertive, of taking what I need, of leaving shitty relationships, and on the flip side of that I’m proud of opening up, trying to give as much as I can and for working on building healthy, supportive relationships. I’m pumped on the sheer growth that’s happened over the past year and the fact that I can wake up everyday and be excited about what I’m working on and who I’m doing it with. I’m proud of myself for finally realizing that there’s not a black and white version of what I need to be feeling or doing with my life or career at the moment, and being ok with that.
Devlyn van Loon
I got a goddamn book deal! I Can’t Believe It’s Not Better is a collection of funny essays, short stories, drawings and poems that comes out in the Spring of 2015. I don’t really know how to feel. I alternate between total incredulity and proud euphoria and exhaustion, turns out writing a book is very hard and takes a long time! It’s a very bizarre feeling to just all of a sudden one day be doing the thing that you’d always hoped you’d get to do. I think 15 year-old theatre weirdo me would be SO REVVED about how everything is going right now, so I try to remember — even when I’m stressed — that that girl is me, and I should be revved too. Anyway, please buy my book or you’ll make the ghost of a chunky 15 year-old very sad. Thank you.
Monica Heisey
2014 has been a pretty difficult year both in the world and in my personal life. There were family, financial and professional losses, but nothing hit harder than the combined impact of leaving an industry I love because of racism, while simultaneously watching young black boys and men get shot and killed because of racism, as an entire American city implodes because of racism, and white friends and family question my rage over racism and the way in which I express that rage. Given all of that, I am most proud to be raising a racially conscious and culturally conversant black son who considers language, humanity, struggle and accountability in his life and in those lives around him.
Rebecca Carroll
This is year, I focused on making myself happy, listening to myself, and figuring out what it was that I really needed. After two years of working freelance (and way too much), I finally left a decently-paying contract position to go to Thailand because I felt in my bones that I needed to escape my work obligations, my laptop, and probably myself. After that, the year unfolded in saying yes to trips, yes to new jobs, and yes to staying in more. It’s not perfect, and probably won’t ever be, but I’m insanely proud of the fact that after 28 years, I’m finally accepting truths about myself rather than deciding what it was I *thought* I should be doing and then feeling endlessly guilty that I wasn’t living up to it. So no, I’m not a person who vacuums weekly or goes to every birthday party and I should probably read the business section more, but I am a person who’s actively working to lead a happier, calmer life and that seems pretty damn great right now.
Delia Paunescu
I am crazy proud of A Year of Wednesdays.
In late 2013 therapist told me “don’t forget next year to write because you love it — just one thing a week for yourself.” I laughed, but when January 1, 2014 rolled up, I sat down and wrote. It happened to be a Wednesday, and I happen to be someone who does best with a little external accountability. I didn’t want it to be a blog, but I didn’t know quite what I wanted it to be, except something structured and public enough that I would feel guilty for skipping a week.
You can tell in the early essays that I was still trying to figure out what the theme was, or if there was one. They’ve always been personal essays, but I thought maybe they’d be chattier, or more anecdote based. Each week I wrote what felt right, and each week the essays changed a little. It was almost like I was workshopping them by myself. This fall I feel like I hit my stride, which was a good reminder that doing something over and over is the only way to figure it out and get good at it.
2014 happens to have 53 Wednesdays — the year started on a Wednesday and ends on a Wednesday. On December 31 I’ll publish my 53rd essay without having skipped a week. I’m so proud of each one and of the whole thing, of the fact that I built a readership almost entirely by myself, and of the fact that I’m thinking of doing it all over again in 2015.
Leah Reich
I had a good year. I was published in publications (not the New Yorker) that I dreamed about from a distance and befriended women that I’ve fangirled over for years. I moved, I all but quit my day job, I kissed more people than I have in previous years. I also had more panic attacks, more breakdowns on Haley’s couch, more uncertainty about what I’m doing and where I’m going. I think I’m proudest of the fact that I am — with stumbles on the way, sure — learning to be the person I always dreamed of becoming (a full time writer who kisses lots) without apologizing for it. I would like to be better at grammar though. Can u copy edit this paragraph for me?
Anna Fitzpatrick
I don’t want to go all Matthew McConaughey on y’all, but I do feel that I am my own hero in, like, ten years. Okay, scratch that — let’s go with five! I am a super driven human person (Capricorn; can’t hardly help it) and so I have a habit of pushing myself to the point of exhaustion and still feeling as if I can’t stop/won’t stop, must keep a-getting. I sacrificed a lot of things to be a writer, and it’s not exactly a thing that brings my parents the greatest of joys, but despite that, I’m beginning, for the first time in ever, to feel as if I am exactly where I need to be. That’s what I’m proud of — because yes I’ve made some great professional strides, and yes I’ve been productive and networked and all that jazz, but for me what’s been the real milestone is reworking my brain to feel as if I am worth all the good things that come to me — that I am smart, cool, and funny — and that I am exactly who I want to be. I don’t need to fix myself, or be someone else; that I am talented despite all the things/people/circumstances that have told me otherwise. I’m proud of pushing past the self deprecating sweet spot that is my social crutch, and realizing my potential for greatness.
For so long I obsessed over why I was worthless, as if that was the reason I was unhappy. Then when I realized I could make myself happy and didn’t need to wait for some mythological Rochester incarnate to save me from myself. Why couldn’t I be team me? What was so wrong with me anyway? It’s such a huge life lesson to learn, and I’m so glad that I’ve finally at least learnt it. I know what it sounds like now, I just have to fine tune it until I reach my nirvanic self, aka brown Susan Sontag. But these days loneliness is not as daunting, nor is death. I feel as though through my power I’ve witnessed the beauty and complexity of life, and understood that there is a finite time being Fariha Roísín so that I might as well really like myself. I’m deciding to live my life and enjoy it, and I’m fucking proud of that.
Fariha Roisin
The obvious way I’ve made myself proud this year is that I quit my day job to become a full time writer and am writing two books. There’s no getting around the fact of that bitchin’ change, but I’m the type of person who often craves stability, so to jump into the freelance writing life (with a husband who is also a freelancer) was especially terrifying for me. It took me pretty much all year to work up the courage to do it. Now that I’m two weeks into it I couldn’t be happier, though, you know, check with me in 2015. Aside from that, I got married this year, which is something I’m coming to terms with feeling proud about. To me marriage was never an “accomplishment,” but I realize I do feel proud of the type of supportive, honest, fun relationship we’ve built, which has made me a more understanding and communicative person in all aspects of my life.
I’m also proud of myself for not being too afraid to get a wedding dress covered in gold sequins. WORTH IT.
Jaya Saxena
In 2014, I changed my life. I stopped making excuses for my emotionally abusive partner. I told friends and family some of the things I’d hidden for years. I think some of them had been waiting for me to speak the words. I asked my friends for help, and even some of those I didn’t ask offered it. I left. I started the Etsy shop I’d been discouraged out of. I eat potato chips and crackers and other noisy foods whenever I want. I wash the dishes the way I want to. And no one lectures me to tears every morning before work. There are still things that aren’t perfect about my life, but I enjoy living it now.
Anonymous
The fact that I’m not immediately defaulting to self-deprecation right now is probably a good enough reason to be proud of myself this year! For someone who loves to talk about myself, it’s hard to talk about the good parts of myself. Still, I’m pretty proud of getting a big girl adult job (and one that I love), being more confident in my writing abilities, and learning to accept both criticism and praise.
Really, though, I’m most proud of all the little things I’ve accomplished this year, the small things that come easily to most people but are sometimes impossible for me to do: Taking my medicine every morning, paying my rent on time, remembering to take out the trash, (sometimes) making payments on my student loans, answering emails, wearing a coat when it’s cold outside, knowing when I should stop drinking and leave a party. It’s tiny stuff, but it adds up.
Pilot Viruet
I’m proud of how outspoken I’ve become, even when it would be easier to stay silent and I’m proud of how I’ve worked to cultivate female friendships. I used to be one of those girls who prided herself on being friends with mostly men, as if that’s some cool badge of honor. I’ve worked really hard this year to grow my friendships with women, support women, and create hangout spaces for women. I’m proud of how much more open I am to women’s voices, in real life and in print. I’m proud of my female friends and the way I’ve eliminated jealousy by loving them so hard. I’m proud of actively going against the way society thinks women should relate to each other, and choosing companionship and support over antagonism and pettiness.
Gaby Dunn
I do not take criticism well. That’s not to say I’m defensive, it’s more the opposite — I’m a big dumb permeable membrane. I take things to heart, I am easily swayed. I am wobbly. Until recently I was planning on going to J-School, proclaiming to all who would listen that (cringe with me now, y’all) “I’m less interested in my own immediate reactions than I am in telling someone else’s story.” However, when I was suddenly up for a blogging position and wanted it so bad, it became apparent that my weird little mantra was perhaps not entirely factual. I do like telling other people’s stories, but it’s also true that I’m totally fucking terrified of opening my own opinions up to judgment. So while I can’t really pat myself on the back for accepting this job (fears notwithstanding, it was a no-brainer), I’m proud of myself for stepping into a situation well outside of my approval-seeking comfort zone. And I’m proud of my future self, my post-December-11th self, for growing some thick-ass skin.
Ellie Shechet
2014 was a pretty shitty year. To be fair, I always get this way a little bit at the end of the year, because I take the business of listening to the Counting Crows “A Long December” on endless repeat while indulging in as much ennui as humanly possible extremely seriously, but even taking that into account, 2014 was a garbage dump on my life. I moved across the country for a job, willingly signed up to pay 2.25 times more rent than I ever have, and then promptly lost that job when our company got bought out a few months later. Along the way, I did pick up a steady freelancing career that actually pays the bills, made some amazing friends, and am now only half the slug I used to be, but I only include that humblebrag so that my mom and therapist don’t put me on a 24-hour psychiatric hold. (Also, those are great accomplishments, but after a career of wonderful accomplishments I took for granted, those wins felt marginal, even though they’re not. I know this. I’m sorry for complaining.) But the real win? Just this week, I moved myself for the first time. Not emotionally, literally — from one apartment to another. It may sound like an incredibly minor win, but in 27 years, 9 residences, and 17 roommates, I’ve never packed up all my shit all by myself. There has always been a feeble attempt that resulted in panicked phone calls to friends and parents the night before to come help, dear God, before the moving company shows up. I once even flew my sister across the country under the guise of “birthday trip!” to help me move. But after a particularly difficult November where everything felt out of my control, I somehow packing taped my way into a minor victory — a seamless, solely self-packed move across boroughs. I even unpacked entirely the same day, instead of my usual game of waiting two months till a friend comes over and gets tired of hopping from one box island to the next, and just does it for me. It was a weird step towards adulthood that I didn’t realize I needed to take, and a personal victory at the time I needed it the most. But if I never have to look at another cardboard box again, it won’t be soon enough.
Beejoli Shah
One Big Question is a monthly series. Because I’m really nosy, I’ll pose a question to a bunch of our contributors and collect their responses. I figured a few of you might be really nosy too; together, we can find out everything about everyone. Got a question you’d like me to ask? Email me.