2023: The Year of Capability
Ending 2023 with pride. Because I've earned it.
On June 15th, 2022, I wrote the following sentence in my journal:
I feel like I’m on the precipice of growing into a bigger version of myself.
I found this the other day after picking up the notebook for the first time in a few months, determined to kickstart my off-and-on journaling habit I’ve held on to for the last eight years. Even as my practice has ebbed and flowed, journaling provides me a space to understand myself a little better, to meditate on what I want my world to mean. (Plus, I enjoy keeping them in the hopes that when I pass away after an illustrious writing career, the world has more words to remember me by. But that’s beside the point.)
I had to give myself a moment to sit with this when I read it. I can so viscerally feel myself back in that place. I was 25, my brain supposedly finished forming, shedding my skin of inexperience. I was ready to operate on a scale much bigger than my fear. I wondered if I had earned the right to believe in bigger for myself, but knew that the only way to find out was to simply do it.
I simultaneously feel exactly the same and wholly transformed since I wrote that sentence. I suppose it’s because I still am that person I was then, who has an immense amount of care in her heart and a desire to make our human experience legible. But now I know I’m a bigger version of that girl, and I’ve realized that I had gotten what I had always wanted: I’d earned it. And even more importantly, I actually believe that I’ve earned it.
That’s what 2023 has meant to me—believing in my capabilities. My voice has gained a little bravado. Doubt feels less like a challenge and more like an opportunity. When I look back at this year, I feel so much joy about the foundation I’ve built for a pretty fucking spectacular future.
In 2023, I:
Started my job at CultureALL, chased every opportunity to learn and grow in this position, believed in my value, and established myself as a professional whose thoughts, opinion, and talent really, truly matter. To have all of that met with open arms and encouragement, from bosses who value my voice and believe in me more than myself, has been a true dream.
Moved to a new city with more professional opportunities, lived closer to my two best friends and my siblings, and pushed myself out of my comfort zone to meet new people and explore new places. I deeply miss our friends and family in the Quad Cities, but I am so happy with everything this move has brought us.
Joined the Iowa Writers Collaborative, shared my writing with hundreds of people, networked with and learned from Iowa writers with a lot more experience than me, and finally stuck to a consistent and sustained writing practice. I have a history of conceptualizing writing projects and letting them fall to the wayside, but I made a promise to myself that The Midwest Creative would not turn into another abandoned idea. I feel so driven to take this Substack to the next level in 2024 and continue to mold my identity as a writer. In the past, this would feel like a delusion of grandeur; now, it just feels like an inevitability. I am so thankful to Julie Gammack for giving me this space to grow as a writer.
Married the love of my life. Our wedding was the loveliest day of my entire life, an entire weekend feeling so wholly and completely loved and joyful. I can’t put into words just how simply magical it felt to have every person that cares about us in one room. I told Matthew in my vows that I would hold his hand whenever the path got muddy and never let go, and that’s a promise that I absolutely cannot wait to keep.
Lost my grandpa, one of my favorite people in the entire world. This is the first time I’ve lost someone really close to me, and I miss him with my entire heart, but in his absence we honored him with so much more family time. That is all he would have wanted, and it’s the best way I can think of to keep his spirit alive.
Let go of the feeling that I need to learn everything and know everyone and understand the world right now and finally respected myself enough to give myself space to learn and grow and figure things out. Everything feels less urgent, less terrifying that I’m going to be left behind. I’ve grown comfortable with the unknowing, confident in my ability to figure things out.
I no longer think of the things I want to accomplish in terms of “I hope,” but “I will.” What used to feel like giant dreams off in the distance now feels like a task to cross off my to-do list.
Watch that list get much, much shorter in 2024.
The Midwest Creative is a proud member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative. Please consider a subscription to my colleagues’ work to support storytelling across the state of Iowa. All of these authors provide content for free, with paid subscription options. Pick one or more, and help sustain this movement.
Keep writing, Macey!