My 2024 Wishes For You

I wish love for you, I wish safety, I wish peace, I wish cleansing tears and that kind of laughter that has you doubled over on the floor.

Life is a messy, messy, complicated, sometimes scary, sometimes lonely thing. Yet, I see you trying. And trying. And trying. Exasperated? Yes. Exhausted? Absolutely. Complete and total sobbing meltdowns on occasion? Yes, of course; those too. But you don’t give up. That’s not a command. I’m not saying, “Don’t give up, now!” I’m saying that I’ve seen you, in this unique way we see one another, and I see that you do not give up. You’ve accepted that sometimes humanity’s goodness does not prevail, that people walk away now and then. You know, from experience, how some things that were once so beautiful and delicate and perfect to your eye can wilt and wither in your open hand. But I see you: still laughing, still singing, still sharing, still moving forward.

I hope you continue to find small patches of joy and light to sew into the quilt of your life in the coming year. I hope you know that even in the rush of the New Year, when work kicks back up and life comes crushing and rushing back in, you are on your very own timeline figuring out your very own soul. It’s your singular journey, and there’s no hurry. We need you. Your smile, your wit, your anger, your righteousness, your heart, your art, the roughness of your fists punching up, and the tender caress of your calloused hand. The space you take up in this world with the very you-ness of you: you’re the only one on the whole planet who can make that shape in that space. I hope you know, somewhere deep down, how in awe I am of you. How proud I am — in the least condescending way possible — of the person you are, and the one you’re still becoming.

I hope someone walks into your life in 2024 and knocks you on your butt in the best possible way. A person who knows how to hold your love, maybe. A person who doesn’t fight with you, but for you. A person who matches your intensity, who challenges and comforts you, whose high fives and hugs are both reassuring. I hope someone tends to your heart like the most precious garden in the coming year, because you are. Precious. You’re precious to me. I hope if it’s vulnerability you crave, the person who walks into your life is safe and deserving. I hope if it’s adventure you seek, the person who walks into your world is as full of life as you are. I hope if you’re looking for someone to push you forward into pursuing even more of your dreams, I hope they nudge you onward and upward in just the right way.

You deserve to experience profound beauty. You are worthy of the kind of love that makes your heart shiver and sing. I want you to lay claim to wonder in 2024! I want you to give your inner child something to holler about, with gleeful abandon! I hope you lay down the burdens that are no longer yours to carry, that you see clearly who and what has been holding you back, and that you finally walk away. I hope you learn and you teach and that one of those lessons is about how change is better than pain, even though it’s very weirdly more scary. I hope you stomp on the expectations of anyone who doesn’t have your best interest at heart, and I hope those stomps make the most satisfying crunch.

The world and so many people in it have tried to knock you down, pin you down, keep you down — but they haven’t succeeded in doing more than toppling you over, now and then. And we all topple. You’re wrestling with yourself to better your brain and your heart, and you’re fighting to make the world fairer and safer for everyone else. You are so courageous, even what it hurts. You are so brave, even when it’s not easy. You are so strong, even when you don’t feel like it. But don’t forget to be gentle with yourself, and with those people you’ve brought into your circle to share your burdens. Don’t forget you can share your burdens. There are people who will stand underneath your hardships with you, help you carry them, or even just prop up the heft so you can take a nap. You should take more naps in 2024. You have always been enough.

I wish love for you, I wish safety, I wish peace, I wish cleansing tears and that kind of laughter that has you doubled over, falling on the floor, pounding your fist against your thigh, howling. I wish you pockets of belief in what’s good, when you need it most. I wish you an emotional tree house, for your soul, with books and fairy lights and bean bags and blankets, and someone to sit beside you in the silence of your grief and the fist-pumping shouts of your triumphs. And there will be triumphs!

You are in my heart, my friend, tucked nice and safely in the innermost part. You are always, always in my heart. And in 2024, I hope you know that too.