I’m sitting here in a place I’m physically in almost every day of the week.

And I’m sitting here wondering where I’m going to go next.

I feel as if this year I’ve truly had a year of shedding things, people, scenarios.

I have much less space for the things and people and moments that I don’t walk away from feeling more like myself.

There is a fine line between the needing to do something and having to do it. A fine line between doing a hard thing because it’s good for you, doing a hard thing because it’s needed and doing a hard thing because you’re being unnecessarily self-sacrificial.

I think I’ve done a handful of things this year because I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t struggling. I needed to prove that the grief and the sadness and the things that felt INCREDIBLY defining weren’t actually who I was.

I needed to prove to myself that I was going to be ok.

This year was a struggle of a grief that has undeniably wound into all facets of my life and my actions but having to choose and remember that I am not it.

When you have a grief that is life shattering it’s hard to mend the breakage without the grief being a part of the glue

It just is.

I’d like to note here that as honest as I am- there are still things that I set aside for just a few. A few things i just deleted. And I wrote some things that I realized aren’t for all.

That’s a piece of myself I’m keeping.

This past year going into next is continuously realizing what places in my house are for others and which aren’t.

The really tricky part about being a home for others is that at the end of the day- you still have to sleep in that home.

So, because it’s who I am and I’ve already referenced vampires to someone once today-all I can think of right now is some of the mythology of The Vampire Diaries Universe. When a vampire came up to a home, they had to be invited in. Getting invited into a house is so simple a lot of us don’t realize that we do it all the time. (Now, don’t worry- I’m not about to get all 90s youth group on you about like “leaving doors open for the devil to get in”- IYKYK).

Like, in TVD before a person knows about vampire it’s so easy for them to just give a haphazard “come inside”. Then BOOM you’re stuck with that vampire having access to your house until the deed physically changes.

Once characters in the show knew this little piece of information they became highly aware of who they were letting inside.

But luckily for us, we aren’t dealing with vampires.

We are though (I am though) dealing with things that don’t stir up life inside of me.

Things, people, situations that just don’t, at the end of the day, add to who I am as a human and I’m going to boot them out of my house to the best of my ability.

Because in the year of 38 I’m choosing to lean into the things that add to me as a human.

That’s not just running through wildflowers or sitting on my hands.

Because, hard things add to who I am as a human.

Choosing to go out after 9pm on a Thursday to sing karaoke at a bar with my best friend Tori and her husband Shawn adds to who I am as a human.

Accepting grief adds to who I am as a human.

Woods coffee runs with Joanna adds to who I am as a human.

Camp adds to who I am as a human.

Being the back up back up at church adds to who I am as a human.

The audacity adds to who I am as a human.

Being a person who knows how to show up adds to who I am as a human.

Helping theater kids become theater adults adds to who I am as a human.

Identifying as someone who works at a church after never wanting to again, adds to who I am as a human.

Seeing my close friends succeed and cheering them on adds to who I am as a human.

Being with the inhabitants of a little blue house in Irvine adds to me as a human.

McDonald’s sprite and those I share it with adds to me as a human.

Using the massive amounts of child development knowledge adds to who I am as a human.

Things that add to my close circle as humans; add to me as a human.

Laughing over 25 cent mimosas adds to who I am as a human.

And I should repeat even though it scares me: hard things add to who I am as a human.

I have to say that list got progressively longer and that added to me as a human.

Because, making space to write on a Sunday at a bar adds to I am as a human.

And it stirs hope I so desperately need.

I think, that there is always a little bit of trepidation with hope.

The desire for hope brings the realization that there could be the lack of hope.

And in the process of writing all of these I realize that as terrifying as it is to say (especially in the weeks prior to camp): I am stronger then the realization that there could be a lack of hope.

I’ve proved it by just showing up.

So.

Here’s to a year of choosing the things that add to myself and add to the people who add to me.

Here’s to a year of choosing hope to the best of my ability without trepidation.

Here’s to a year of karaoke and ax throwing.

A year of quarter mimosas.

A year of being the back up back up and the church intern.

A year of figuring out how to move forward.

A year of supporting the humans around me in their dreams.

Here’s to a year of realizing that the glue is dry, it cannot move and it does not define me.

It pushed me on, became a part of my story but it’s not all that I am.

Here’s to a year of choosing the people, places and things that add to myself and the ones that I add to.

Here’s to, honestly, 38 being the year of Meg.

Because the year of Meg isn’t selfish.

It’s finding ways that I can add to myself and in turn add to the people around me.

However that looks.

With so much love,

Meg