Cheers to a New Year⁠—But First, Nostalgia

It is difficult to reflect thoroughly on all the experiences I crammed into the last 12 months. Until I flipped through my photos from the year, I'd forgotten about entire vacations I took. I met countless new people, strengthened some relationships and said goodbye to others, took tens of thousands of pictures (mostly of food, cocktails and flowers), traveled every chance I got, ate meals that made me feel like I could sit back and die of contentment, danced and scream-sang to live music delightfully often, had a buncha brand new experiences, and learned lessons I'll continue to carry with me and build upon.

During the month of July alone, my parents visited me in Boston, I flew to Utah unexpectedly, I hosted a wake, I won a recreational grass volleyball championship along with legendary team The Nerd Herd, I started dating again after a breakup, I said goodbye to my soulmate when she moved to Puerto Rico, I decided I'm writing a book, and I started going to therapy twice a month, which has been one of the most important, impactful and absolutely positive decisions I've ever made. Hard recommend.

Back in January, I celebrated a year of living in Boston, and in a couple weeks I'll celebrate two. Throughout the year, I gave a handful of tours to visiting family and friends. I moved from Somerville to Cambridge and visited at least seven new cities (Nashville, New York City, Victoria, Barcelona, Seville, Madrid), two new countries and one new continent, in addition to traveling home to Tucson three different times, returning to Seattle, Utah, New York City and Nashville, and taking day and weekend trips to close-by New England towns. 

For friends I've met since moving here, I went to engagement and bachelorette parties, a wedding and a baby shower, and I got to attend the wedding of a longtime Tucson friend. I was equal parts disappointed and relieved to miss my 10-year high school reunion. I went sailing for the first time (not a fan). I gained some responsibilities at work, sang live-band karaoke, went to the drive-in movies, camped in New Hampshire, locked eyes with a movie star, baked a crisp out of apples I picked myself and hugged a personal hero. 

I organized a group of over 15 old and new friends through Somerville's Porchfest, my favorite Boston-area event during which local musicians play on porches for passersby throughout the four square miles of Somerville. On one porch, I saw a band I liked so much that I took a solo road trip to see them in Portland, Maine, (make that eight new cities) and bought tickets to two more of their shows in town. 

I made sure to maximize time spent outside during the 10 days of perfect Boston weather, even if all I had the energy for was laying in my hammock on the porch in my pajamas. Spotify tells me I discovered over 200 new artists, and just for fun I designed custom cover art for each of my carefully curated playlists. I did my best not to miss out on any quality content in this new golden age of television (have you watched Fleabag, Killing Eve and Brené Brown's The Call to Courage yet??)

I ran through airports at least four times, and I barely made it on all but one of those flights. I made significant additions to my stacks of unfinished books and half-written blog posts. I lost my wallet and items from my wallet upwards of 10 times, and I've lost an estimated seven earbuds. 

I sobbed through heartbreak, loneliness and longing. I stayed in bed for weekends at a time, not feeling able to come out from under the comforting weight of my 25-pound blanket. I've been mad at the world and the powers that be, and too many times I let discouragement and uncertainty keep me from doing anything about it. I sat in an oil-and-water mix of emotions when I was together with my whole extended family but it was to grieve the loss of my grandfather. 

I finally accepted that the pursuit of perfection and universal admiration is a losing game, so I decided to start playing a different one. I let go of cherished outcomes and learned to find joy in processes instead. I relaxed my shoulders a bit more and took hella deep breaths. 

I'm a better networker, cook, baker, planner, decision-maker. I'm still learning to be a better friend, coworker, partner. I'm a more active participant in every moment and less of a nervous observer. I'm better at embracing what is and looking toward what might be with curiosity and excitement over fear. I'm more joyful, free, patient, accepting and comfortable, and I'm less afraid.

I still wrestle too often with my inner critic and wonder why things just can't be perfect. I'm still a lazy procrastinator, and I wish I could be on time. I'm still awkward and forgetful, sensitive and emotional, wordy and oversharing, obsessive and particular, romantic and optimistic, but I'm more accepting of it all. I'm more Katelyn than ever, and I'll continue to be.

I end today as I hope to end every day, year, decade, moment: having really fucking lived every drop of it wholeheartedly and imperfectly, with as much courage, curiosity and joy as I can manage.

In the words of that hero I hugged this year, love and light to you and yours. Onward.