2024 in Review
I still write here, and I would be remiss if I skipped another year—in-review! Now a few months into 2025, I feel like I’ve taken the time and space I needed to reflect on the year while preparing for this one. Truthfully, I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because it got lost in the drafts, but now that vision boards have been created, goals have been defined, and it’s time for a brief recap!
Top Albums of 2024:
Brat by Charli XCX
Brat and It's Completely Different but Also Still Brat by Charli XCX
Short n’ Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter
Two Star & the Dream Police by Mk.gee
ten days by Fred Again..
Hyperdrama by Justice
Timeless by Kaytranada
Heat by S.G. Lewis and Tove Lo
In Waves by Jamie xx
GNX by Kendrick Lamar
I’m bringing back the monthly playlist, let me know if you want to subscribe.
Before Getting Started…A Note on 2023
I am sad that I never took dedicated time to write a blog post, and that’s okay, I’ll take some time now. 2023 was a whirlwind. bookended by trips to Asia (Singapore & Vietnam, Hong Kong & Philippines). I went to the Waste Management Open, Lauren and Julian got engaged, attended Coachella, ran around Seattle, Scottsdale for Polly’s bachelorette, Pop Pop passing away, Orcas Island, Barbie summer, Taylor Swift Eras Tour, fostered friendships, witnessed Caroline and Stephen get married, experienced the Balloon Fiesta and White Sand Dunes, saw Fred Again as far as the highlights go. That’s just a fraction and I know I’m forgetting some major ones. It was rooftops and concerts and change, veritable change.
Leigha, with whom I had lived with for nearly five consecutive years, moved to Milwaukee which prompted me to move into my own apartment! This is the first time I’ve ever lived on my own. I also met and fell in love with Eli over that summer and we started our relationship, my first real relationship. I was running around, indulging in life while neglecting how overwhelmed I felt by all the changes.
My priorities shifted. A lot of my friends’ priorities shifted. That set the stage for 2024.
A Tale for the Time Being of 2024:
2024 for me was that feeling after all the confetti falls, the lights come on, and you’re confronted with reality again.
For the first time in a long time, things weren’t constantly chaotic in the way where I’m saying “WHAT IS HAPPENING” or “WHAT ARE WE DOING”. The year still flew by in a blur, but the wild stories evolved into more mundane experiences and less hazy nights out.
That said, I should note that all of those chaotic moments did not cease: for Galentine’s Day we almost set my apartment on fire (luckily the white rug in my living room was the only casualty). I learned that my friends are mostly terrible in emergency situations and I’m surprisingly good at getting burn marks out.
Other highlights included two ski trips, snowboarding in my case, to Big Sky, Montana and Whistler, Canada, where I thrived in the former and cried on the slopes at the latter. I watched my friends marry the love of their lives and was a co-maid of honor for Lauren’s wedding, the first wedding I’ve formally been in. I started an Etsy shop, something I’ve been mulling over for some time now. I developed my skill set and completed a UX Design certificate. I traveled to new places like Boston and Costa Rica with Eli. I went to more baseball games than I ever have before - thanks, Cameron. I got my finances in order and on track with my future goals. I battled an ant invasion in my kitchen. And I fully settled into my apartment, appreciating how special this space has become to me.
When the Dust Settles, What Are We Left With?
The biggest lesson of the year was embracing the seasons of life. I wish I could remember who introduced the concept to me, but regardless, I begrudgingly embraced it.
Looking back, I unknowingly entered a new season at the end of 2023. For a lot of 2024, I found myself clawing my way back toward previous seasons, the ones filled with chaos, spontaneity, and constant activity because that was what I had always known.
It made me question myself A LOT. I felt like my sparkle had dulled a little bit. My life had changed so much. We can’t have change without loss.
I felt the loss.
The change and loss kept glaring at me, taunting and forcing me to confront them. At times, I privately spiraled. Nothing crazy like going off the deep end of a bender, more-so the reclusive crying at home way.
“Nothing’s really happening like I thought it would” - Bon Iver Speyside
People
Take that omnipresent anxiety battle and contextualize it with relationships. I was constantly people pleasing at my own expense, which I know never turns out right!
I’m still working on embracing what I perceive to be flaws about myself, especially as my relationship develops. My FIRST relationship. Sometimes I think I’m doing it all wrong, but no one was perfect the first time they tried anything. Eli and I have been dating now for around a year and half and it’s been fun. It’s been a joy to witness the merging of friends and explore Seattle, trying new activities together. I’ve learned a lot about him, about myself, and how we work together. I can only speak for myself, but we’ve moved into territory where I feel I can express myself freely which I’ve never had with anyone before. We have our quarrels, but I’ve come to value how important clear communication is.
With a relationship comes the balancing of time: time I have allocated for Eli, my friends, and myself. I’m still trying to figure out the right cadence especially with the ebbs and flows of friendship.
My friendships changed a lot last year because of the change in my relationship status. Now I’m balancing time in a foreign way. I had always been someone down for things and planning outings and get togethers and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the host or the planner to the caliber I had previously been able to be and it felt like some of my identity just diminished.
And I felt like I was letting my friends down and I felt like people HATED me for not being as available as I was once. I fixated on that even more and compounded it by having shitty communication only fueling the frustration I was experiencing.
My therapist had a fun year too getting to listen about my internal turmoil. One of my favorite nuggets of wisdom she imparted to me was to meet people where they are. She encouraged me to get perspective on the people I surround myself with and think about who they are and what they bring to the table. The point being that I cannot expect someone who isn’t a planner to all of sudden pick up the pieces and plan things, especially when I don’t say anything about it. I also adopted separating my own opinions and reactions from peers and friends to prioritize what I think, feel, and ultimately need.
Something I repeatedly wrote was friendships are fickle. I find it interesting that that particular phrase came up again and again for me. Change is going to happen in friendships, especially as we get older, but if one thing remains the same and it doesn’t matter exactly how is that people want to be seen, understood, and included. There are friends I still care a lot about and I don’t talk to often or see at all despite living in the same city. It doesn’t mean anything other than we’re on diverging paths at the moment. Despite feeling the friendship distance, it’s clear outgrowing friendships is sadly sometimes the natural course, but I am interested to see how they may evolve down the line.
Racing Arbitrary Parameters
Evolution is funny because it marks development over time. It can only be understood with distance, yet we live in a world with rigid frameworks that dictate how our lives should be unfolding in short periods. These models have been drilled into our psyche and underscored by an invisible voice whispering, you’re behind.
That persistent voice, the constant reminder of fear, is probably why “I Think About It All the Time” by Charli XCX feat. Bon Iver became one of my favorite songs from Brat and It's Completely Different but Also Still Brat:
I think about it all the time
I'm scared to run out of time
The vulnerable lyrics wrestle with growing your career while deciding when to start a family, most likely putting the former on hold and halting any progress. If only we had more time to figure out the shoulds.
I have a boyfriend, I should be moving faster on my family timeline.
→ The checklist of find a boyfriend, move in together, get married, have kids is tried and true. Every relationship is completely different. At times, I allowed the checklist to take me out of being present in my relationship.
I’m in my late twenties, I should know more about personal finance and be on a solid career trajectory.
→ I had (have a little still) a lot of shame around financial literacy. I held the perception that I should be further along in my net worth and have more saved for retirement. Finance is something you can learn at any point (much easier the earlier in life), it just takes the courage to start.
I’m only 29, I shouldn’t have gray hairs until I’m at least 40!
→ Genetics have a whole other list of rules to play by. This is more of a case of grappling with getting older and a test of self-love.
Then there’s the stress about the never-ending to-do list. The sense that I should be doing more, and realizing that maybe I’m trying to do too much. Technology doesn’t help; my attention span feels frayed by scrolling to escape. It’s a great tool but I’ve allowed it to manifest into bad habits that move me away from what truly matters.
Sometimes I feel like Sisyphus, rolling the boulder up the hill over and over again, convinced that if I just keep going, I’ll eventually catch up. Therein lies the trap: a belief that happiness or some grand reward will be waiting once I accomplish the shoulds.
I let everything become a race when it should be a race against myself. I’ve been forced to reckon with how I chart my own success and embrace whatever my timeline may be, not the arbitrary framework’s outline. There’s not even really a race anymore, more like mile markers that acknowledge accomplishments - big and small - and admire the journey I’m on, however long it may take.
Getting older has revealed a funny paradox. There isn’t much time, and yet… there is. I’m slowly accepting that I won’t get to do everything. That’s okay. There are wonderful experiences that will fill my cup in ways I could never dream. I can reimagine what I thought certain things in life would look like. I can pick and choose what’s most important.
The Preciousness of Time
Swept up in all of the fear and calamity of timelines, I began to understand my priorities more. One of the most impactful pieces I encountered was the Modern Love podcast episode featuring Andrew Garfield, reading Chris Huntington’s essay, Learning to Measure Time in Love and Loss.
Huntington’s essay reflects on time, “think in months, years…Where are you going?” and the choices we make. It’s about the quiet toll of weighing our options of what we stand to gain or lose, and recognizing that every decision is a sacrifice. Each choice moves us closer to an appreciation of this life we live because “there are some things you will never do. It doesn't matter. There is no rush…”.
Garfield explains why he chose this essay and shares his personal interpretations. He draws inspiration from his character Tobias in We Live in Time and speaks from the heart about the void left by his mother’s passing. The essay moves him so deeply that he asserts “this is why art is so important. It can get us to places that we can't get to any other way.” and I can’t help but agree as I’ve cried each time I’ve listened to the episode.
He continues reading, contextualizing the raw emotion he exhibits by pointing out “It's the preciousness, as we've been talking about. And it's the longing for more. It's like we all pass with so much more to know with so much more longing.” Finally hitting home the crucial point “I think we all just want a fair shot creating a life.”
There’s this acknowledgement of the beauty, most of which we will never be able to experience, yet we are here and reveling in the opportunities we are given. The dichotomy of this sentiment makes it so starkly ominous, daring, beautiful, and tragic all at once.
This podcast episode along with other moments redirected me to appreciate more. I value how often I am able to see and spend time with my family. Everyone is getting older and I don’t know how much time I have left with each of them. I want to take the moments I can.
When I was home over Christmas, I had a day in Denver with just my parents before picking Gina up at the airport. It was so special. I caught glimpses of their younger selves as they chatted with the bartender and shared stories. On other occasions, I played tennis with my mom, something I haven’t done since I was in grade school. I got the car washed with my dad and ran errands. So mundane, but things I rarely get to do with them. Small, ordinary moments, but those are the ones that really matter.
My hopes for 2025:
Okay, yeah, I learned some lessons. The beauty of delaying my year in review has been the opportunity to give myself time to sit, stop, and think.
The ultimate goal is to work towards being more present. So much of my daily life is consumed by a screen or a sedentary lifestyle. I’m realizing that doesn’t work for me. I’m asking myself how can I integrate more mindful moments into my everyday, like silent car rides or wandering walks where I don’t track my route.
Getting back into creativity is something I’m returning to. Losing myself in a craft makes me feel so good. One of my goals is to complete the Artist’s Way and integrate creativity back into my life. I’ve already been dabbling with watercolors again and even taught myself embroidery in December by making Christmas ornaments! It’s way easier than I expected it to be, so I’d love to expand that into adorning apparel for some extra flair.
I’m also craving more opportunities to organize gatherings. I miss hosting and just being with my friends. I’d love to bring back semi-regular dinners or spontaneous group outings to connect with each other more.
A year is an arbitrary marker of time — you can do anything at any point.
While reflecting on the year, I found a line in my journal where I wrote, “I feel sunny.” I have no idea what I meant, but the sentiment resonates. I hope that 2025 can feel SUNNY, to incorporate this starburst feeling of joy.
I’m turning 30 in May. Inspired by a video I saw, I made a “30 Before 30” list as a lighthearted way for me to be mindful before my birthday. I get to tick some items off of my to do list and have some fun experiences. It’s sort of a celebratory path to the milestone with really low stakes. I’m thankful that I didn’t have HUGE goals before turning 30. At one point I had a big goal of visiting all seven continents, but I’ve since revised that. The time limit doesn’t matter to me anymore. I still want to do it, but I was doing it solely for bragging rights.
Lastly, I’m working on owning my accomplishments. In one therapy session, we explored the idea of me being a leader. My first instinct was to reject the label. My therapist outlined qualities of a leader, asked if I agreed to which I obliged, and she pointed out that those are qualities I hold. She then posed the question, why is it easier to accept that in other but not myself? There’s a lot wrapped up in that — perception of self, humility, misogyny, and a whole lot more, but I’m beginning to come around to the idea.
If I had to sum it up, I want to feel proud of myself. Proud of who I am and how far I’ve come. It’s a big year, I’m turning 30! I’m entering a new decade. More than anything, I want to move through it slowly, kindly, and excited by what lies ahead.