A couple weeks ago, I was about 20 hours in to a 26 hour drive from San Francisco to Austin. We were past El Paso, driving on a rural highway through sheer West Texas nothingness, and I saw a shooting star.

I’m a rational, grown, adult woman, so of course I made a wish. Out loud, very quietly, I said “I wish I was thin.” It was instant. Second nature. I’ve made that wish so many times, I didn’t even think about it. I’ve wished for it on birthday candles. Eyelashes. Heads-up pennies, ladybugs, every 11:11 I’ve happened to catch. The universe has asked me a thousand times for my number one desire, and every single time I’ve politely asked to shrink.

What a fucking waste. Like what the fuck, actually?

2020 was a bad year. But I had the privilege of a lot of free time, and I spent the bulk of it trying to take better care of myself. I bought some skincare. Prioritized my sleep. Re-started my running routine, and started lifting the one set of 5-lb dumbbells I managed to find. I worked with a dietitian and started eating more. A lot more! A lot more.

I changed up my social media. I filled my feeds with body-positive diversity. I read so many blog posts and listened to so many podcasts and I learned so much more about society’s fatphobia and my own internalized shame. And still! The first chance I got, I wished for a smaller body.

I’m proud of the habits I built last year, but I know it takes time. So in 2021, for the first time in my life, I’m not resolving to lose weight. I’m actively resolving to NOT resolve to lose weight.

The next time I throw a coin into a fountain, I’m going to wish for a billion dollars. Or twitter fame. Maybe I’ll wish for pain and suffering for my enemies! Or world peace or something, I don’t know. But I’m certainly not going to waste my moment on something as boring as a smaller body.

In my last post I mentioned that I’m constantly afraid. I thought about elaborating on that, but I think we all know the scary things right now. So at the risk of seeming very tone deaf, I’m going to make a lighter list instead. Because as many things are really fucking dark right now, some things are still funny. 

Like, this is the view I see of my dog almost all day. 

She just splats right there half under the bed, far enough away to get a little distance but close enough that she knows the second I even consider going to the kitchen.

Overhearing Nathan on conference calls is funny. The other day I heard him say “Yeah man, I’m silly as hell.” That’s a very silly thing to overhear with or without context. Later, I swear I heard him say he didn’t know what Kohl’s was, and I spent the next hour before he hung up wondering how it was possible to love a man for 7 years that doesn’t know about this nation’s foremost suburban department store. Turns out he DOES know about Kohl’s, I just misheard. 

I put a teddy bear in my window because I saw on NextDoor that parents are taking their kids on “bear walks.” But my apartment is behind a big tree, so no one can see the bear except for me. But I still get really excited every time a kid walks past, and I turn around so I am also looking out the window. If a kid ever DOES see the bear, they’ll also see me, staring very intensely down at them right next to the bear, which is terrifying but also funny.

Schitt’s Creek is extremely funny. I’m A Little Bit Alexis!

In almost every video meeting, someone always reflexively asks “what are you doing this weekend?” And every time I think “I’m probably just going to have a cozy night in.” It hasn’t gotten old to me yet! In fact, just as I typed this, someone on an executive conference call I’m supposed to be listening to asked if the group had weekend plans. “Just indoor activities, I guess,” someone replied. I guess!

I am still so scared for so many reasons so much of the time. But I do think we’re going to be okay.