12 Things I Learned in 2023
Terrible twos are real, true friends are imperative, and, yes, you can end up at LIV again.
‘Twas a year. A terrible year for the world, an excellent one for Taylor Swift, a relatively mediocre one for myself. While I’m relieved to finally turn the page and boogie into 2024 with bells on, I’m grateful for some of the lessons 2023 has rudely shoved my way. Here are a few of them.
Some “friends” are best left behind. You know which ones they are – the ones who make you feel like you’re constantly trying to prove something; the ones you know secretly gloat at your failings; the ones who definitely talk shite behind your back. You usually have a gut feeling that there’s something off about your dynamic, but you allow the person to linger in your life anyway, hoping that one day they will miraculously morph into the kind and supportive ally you want them to be. Experience on this earth shows me such metamorphoses are few and far in between, so it’s best to just ditch the bad seeds in the most undramatic way possible and focus on the people who genuinely have your best interest at heart.
While others are worth moving across the country for. Especially when you have kids and need fellow humans who either love you unconditionally enough to accept that you now come with tiny peace detonators, or have their own to throw in the mix. After the faux-friend land that was Los Angeles (a few exceptions aside), it has been a game changer to find myself in Miami, where I have great friends who want nothing from me other than wine drinking companionship.
Moving cities gets harder as you get older. I moved back from Paris in 2014 with six duffel bags in tow, which I took with me on a low-cost airline flight that charged $40 per duffel. Nine years later, my family and I moved back from LA with a container of furniture and boxes that cost us thousands of dollars to transport across country. Since I belong to the rare breed of idiots who doesn’t like having movers pack for them, the process not only destroyed the bulk of my sanity, but also hijacked my desire to ever move again. Even a few blocks down the street, which is probably imperative, as I currently live next door to my parents.
Parent-adult-child dynamics are “complicated.” I will reiterate that I currently live next door to mine, which is both an acute blessing (the free childcare!) and a curse (the free “advice!”). There’s so much to unpack here that it deserves its own post. For now, hold me in your prayers.
A good therapist is priceless. Actually, they usually come with a hefty price tag, but it’s well worth it. (Especially if you happen to live next door to your parents.) Ever since I started working with a new therapist, I feel like someone has shined a flashlight over the dark, dust-ridden pockets of my psyche where all the answers hide. With my newfound understanding of the past comes a clarity about the present – refreshingly logical answers that are stripped of the usual shame and judgement I associate with my actions. I’m also learning a lot about how child psychology work, which makes it much easier to navigate the daily “if I do this, will I f*ck my kid up for life” spiral.
Intrusive thoughts are normal. Ever since I learned the definition of the pesky, scary, disturbing thoughts that sneak into my brain at random times of day (and night), I’ve felt myself developing a certain armor against them. I’ve also been talking to friends–mostly mothers–who all admit to experiencing the same issue ever since having children. (According to the internet, up to 70% of new mothers have intrusive thoughts.) While dealing with them in the moment is still a challenge, the mere knowledge that it’s a common form of anxiety, rather than a reason to check myself into an institution, has been massively helpful.
Toddlers have a bad rap for a reason. Zero logic, zero reason, constant attitude and mood swings, utter volatility.. Having a toddler takes you right back to your worst ex of dating days past, the really cute one who used to gaslight you for no reason, only to then kiss you and melt your confused heart. Supposedly, they grow out of it (the toddlers, not the boyfriends). I’ll let you know in a year.
The school game is not for the weak. Feeder preschools, Montessori vs traditional, mom WhatsApp groups.. Not only is getting a kid into a decent preschool a full-time job, but, the minute they’re in, you have to actively keep up with their school life in order to avoid dressing them in the wrong holiday colors or some similar blasphemy. (Side note: where are all the dads on the WhatsApp chats?!) Oh, you also have to start prepping them to get into the next school, the one with the entrance exams and the parental interviews and tuition that reads like an average American salary. As Pete the Cat would say, Groovy!
You can feel better at 37 than at 27. This sounds quite cliché, but I genuinely feel much happier looking in the mirror today than I did ten years ago, when I still had perky breasts and premium skin elasticity. Part of this has to do with the extra ten years of strength training classes that have finally yielded a semblance of results. The other part has to do with gratitude – after having a baby, I’m truly thankful to my body for coming back in one piece (and to my aesthetician for the rest).
You can also find yourself at LIV again. Yes, LIV, the David Grutman party mecca that scared me even as a sprightly twenty-something. I recently ended up there on a night out and spent two unforgettable hours dancing my tushy off while refusing continuous propositions of Molly. After four years of domestication, the experience felt downright exotic and served as a nice reminder that a-I still (kinda) got it and b-the rogue version of myself is alive somewhere within. Catch her again in ten years.
We shouldn’t ruin friendships over politics. No matter how divided we think we are in our views. As polarizing as today’s world is, it’s important to remember that both our sources of information and our processing of said information are largely biased, and tied into our upbringing, our experiences, and our environment. Very few people are actually bad people – they are just coming from a very different place than yourself. Demonizing them for it will only proliferate the giant rift we already have in our society, making it easier for opportunists to take advantage of said polarization. If having a thoughtful and humane discourse feels too sensitive and fraught, I suggest keeping the topic off the table altogether.
The days are long and boring, but the years are whisking by. I recently looked at my partner and realized that the man I occasionally still occasionally regard as a “new boyfriend” is the same man I have now been living with for four years. Our child is three, the project I’ve been procrastinating on is four, and I’ll be in my next decade before I get a chance to blink. These years have a sneaky way of creeping up on us, so we need to hack the system and milk them for every minute we’re given. Set intentions, book trips, call your parents, dance and LIV, and truly value your time as the scarce and precious commodity that it is.