When I brought this website back to life last year, I thought, “This is the year I write.”

I had grand plans of a monthly (if not bi-monthly!) posting schedule. I was going to talk about my oh so thrilling life in D.C. and try to frame it in a way so that someone other than my mom would care about reading it. I was going to finally find and take the time to write for myself, dammit, because I deserved to invest that time in myself!

The last blog I posted is from uh…March 2018. 

Somewhere along the way, I got so focused on living my life, that I forgot to write about it. And for months, I’d take embarrassed peeks at this website, telling myself that this weekend would be the weekend that I’d finally start to write again. So I guess you could say despite my best intentions, it was a new year, but same me.

But here’s the thing – I was writing. I was writing at my day-job as a social media manager, communications manager, and assistant editor (yes, I performed ALL THREE JOBS in one place of employment) and I was writing multiple freelance articles a month. I was writing letters to friends, letters mailed across the country or across the world, letters that I’ve kept and never sent. I was writing an absurdly stupid amount of Instagram captions about all the food I was eating.

And most importantly, I was writing cover letter upon cover letter. I was editing minuscule details on my resume as much as possible within severely-adjusted margins that squeezed all of my qualifications onto one page. I was writing emails explaining exactly why I was perfect for the job, thanks so much for the phone interview, please let me know if I can provide you with any more information to help you with your decision.

Searching for a job while working full-time AND working two freelance gigs on the side is exhausting, to say the least. And amidst all that writing, I was also balancing a somewhat aggressive social life, exploring new hobbies, and hiking plenty of mountains. It’s honestly a miracle that in July, I did get a new job – one that offers me new and more extensive opportunities to learn and grow and finally, finally, finally work in the fields that I really love: writing and editing. I am one of The Writers on staff, and that is thrilling to me.

So here I am, writing again. Writing at work, and at home. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like the writing I’m doing at work actually matters, and for the first time in nearly a year, I’m finally back to writing here on this website.

People make all sorts of lists and goals and resolutions this time of year, right? I tend to shy away from those, as I don’t always stick to them, and then end up feeling like the first half of my year has been a failure because I didn’t manage to lose fifteen pounds or learn to spatchcock a chicken.

But this year, I want to live with intention. I think it’s all too easy to settle into a safe routine when you’ve gotten a better job and are cycling through a schedule of happy hours and historic pub lectures and fun days out. Comfort, in many ways, keeps you from going after what you really want. So this year will be a year of living with intention, of not just cruising and letting things happen to me. This year will be a year of making choices that matter.

This year, I’m going to write.