Running into the new year

Fresh perspectives and fresh starts

I really never intended to take such a long break from this newsletter, I can only apologise. I’ve been stuck in a bit of a rut for a long time and more than anything, unwilling to do anything to change that feeling apart from stress myself out about it. 

But December comes, as it always does, at the perfect time. For once, this time of year has been quiet for me. 

In the past it’s been an endless stream of deadlines, crashing into each other while I frantically try to schedule in time for friends and juggle content creation to the point of burnout. Oddly enough, this December was a time of eerie silence. My inbox has been, well, dry. In the past, by the time I fly home to Virginia, I’m a shell of myself, crawling into my childhood bed for solace and ready to become baby.

Now, I’m sitting on my parents couch in Virginia finally feeling like I have the space to pick this up again. The break was unexpected, I got sick, I was also in the throes of dating drama that had me feeling very distracted but also like I couldn’t articulate myself in the way that I wanted to with the anxiety. The quiet here allows me to focus inward, whereas in London I am full of stress and nervous energy, always running from thing to thing in order to escape my own thoughts. 

Christmas was small again this year, which is a sad reality I’m now forced to accept. I’ve always loved the holidays. The fanfare, the excitement, the bigness of it all. Growing up, my family made a real point to make it fun and have a real celebration. Lots of food, lots of decorations, presents, storytelling, laughter, fighting…and now all of that is diminished. Even now as I’m older, the friends that I used to catch up with have their own children to make the holidays special for, our reunions become few and far between. 

After death and estrangement, the requirement to “do Christmas” in the way that we all used to just isn’t there. Understandable, but still disheartening to watch my childhood memories fade into the background while this endless quiet expands ahead of me. 

2023 has now been one of many years that have stacked together and have been, on the whole, not the greatest. They always say that bad things come in threes and I’m ready to see the back of this year. The last three years have been summarised by divorce, death, loss, and heartbreak. But for the first time in a while, I feel my attitude shifting. I’m not as bogged down by grief, guilt and shame - I’m feeling hopeful. I’m thinking of going back to therapy.

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I’m walking into the new year feeling fresh and optimistic. I’ve never been one for resolutions, but I do feel confident enough in myself and my capabilities to be able to achieve what I set out to do. 

I also hadn’t realised that the past three years had me feeling extremely bitter about what I had lost, too distracted to see what I had built in spite of it. I’m approaching the days now with a healthy heap of gratitude and an openness to receive all the good that life still has to offer.

Thank you for being here, for reading these words and for every kind thing you’ve had to say since I started publishing The Noteworthy. I’ve always felt like calling myself a writer was a title that I had yet to earn. That each time I published something, whether on my own accord or commissioned by someone else would bring me one step closer to feeling like This Is Who I Am. Hopefully 2024 means I am finally ready to take on that mantle. 

My book, The Half Of It, is going to be released next year that will be my sole focus for awhile. I can’t want to be able to share more, but in the meantime it’s available for pre-order!

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About me: I'm Nicole, the writer of The Noteworthy. I’m also a content creator and the co-host of the award-winning Mixed Up podcast. Having been chronically online since the age of 13, you can also find me on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Pinterest. I’m working on my first book, The Half Of It, which you can pre-order here.