Happy New Year!

Whether you’re looking to start your bookstagram, dive into new fictional worlds, improve your writing skills, or read what my heart has to say, welcome to the first blog! 

In this blog or newsletter, I wanted to discuss New Year’s resolutions, goals, what it is to be a writer, and some other topics that just feel right at this starting point. 

It has been in my head since last year (starting this blog): creating a place where I could be honest with the things I do in my daily life. I haven’t rested tranquil since I wanted to do it, but finally, here it is! I hope you truly like it, can learn with me along the way, find peace between my words, and give some feedback. 

So. 2024. 

Everyone right now is talking about the goals and habits they want to adopt this year, but let’s see at the end who are the real people who will achieve them. I am no guru to state “Hey, you, do this to write more!”, “Hey, you, this is how you can read 300 books this year!!” Even though I may appear quite obstinate, those are hooks people give to pick up curiosity. And somehow I have adopted some of those to increase reach. I feel guilty for doing so. 

Last year I noticed within me that there existed a desire to meet new people, change old patterns, let go of people who never served me (for my peace), and be myself. 2022 had left me with a “now what” feeling, but last year was like being alive again. I don’t know if it happened to you, but I did so many things that made me want to continue experiencing life and all it has to offer—the good and the bad. And, if you truly felt like last year was shitty, honestly I hope you continue fighting until you feel tranquility in your life. This year will be your year. 

But, I never said 2023 was a perfect year. 

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you can't stand the shit that you do? Well, that was me. At the beginning of the year I wasn’t motivated to… anything. My life was a gray routine: wake up at five, attend school from seven to three, do homework, eat, and sleep. I read between classes and recess, I talked with friends (now I better call them old classmates, honestly), and… yeah. If you were expecting a greater, instagrammable life, you’re wrong. You’re looking at the wrong person. My mindset was a poor one: I constantly said to myself I was no one and that if someone saw my face they’d soon forget who I was because I was that plain. And truly I must have been because I had that terrible mindset. It makes me want to puke. 

Yet, in April, I had made up my mind that I was going to seek something far more rewarding. I ended up in solitude for the next three and a half months, kind of waiting in a hospital chair for the news of my grandmother: if she was going to remain alive or if there was nothing else to do. There was a restless feeling in me. I was lonely—a hermit probably—and I looked terrible and I was wasting my youth by changing so suddenly from school. I was going to a place where I knew no one because I didn’t feel comfortable in my last place. They were brutal. I wrote bad novels and bad stories, trying to reconcile with myself. I knew they were bad: my Spanish teacher had told me so. No matter how hard I tried to build something new, something better, or how much I read: I was bad at writing. No. I sucked at writing. They later told me she despised me when I left, and the place where I was going was going to make me even worse. I’m glad I didn’t listen to her. If it were for her, I wouldn't be showing myself through the media or these little pieces of myself, would I? 

I later learned being alone was the key. I met new people, built more confidence, and continued showing and holding to dear life. 

Of course, I am not a perfect human being, and I did hurt some people this year. But somehow I want to throw eggs to their faces or slap them. I am that sick. What I am expecting this year, honestly, is to build a better page where people can be helped and feel seen by what they write. 

I also want whoever is reading this to feel like they are enough and their writing is “good enough”. I have so many goals I’m excited about, so many trips planned, and ideas. I just hope life lets me do them! 

Now, tell me, what are you looking forward to this year? 

January is the month of opportunities, where everyone says they are going to the gym (and probably will quit after a week), the month to become the best versions of themselves, the month where pride isn’t known, and where everyone is clean and tidy. I think somewhere between the year I’ll find myself saying “fuck this” because life, I believe, doesn’t need much planning. You can’t expect to see your future or are you a seer? If you are, please get in touch with me, honestly.  

2023 thanks for showing me how to manage to be on my own. Just for the record, I think you become unshakeable when you are alone because you won’t miss anyone’s company. People can’t leave you if you don’t let them in. Even though, somewhere in the timelines, we have to do it. And learn when it is time to go. 

Thanks for reading this! I hope you might share it with anyone who might need it, and give me your thoughts about it. Don’t forget to show up each day, even if it sucks. You’ll be where you want to be one day. 

Sincerely,

J.J. 

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