It’s been a ridiculous, trying year for some but a bounce back year for others.
We’ve been through (in no particular order) a rise in effective labor strikes and activism, the tumult of two ongoing wars, strides for ongoing environmental movements and, like, so much more. So, ridiculously much more.
I want to walk through what this year means by sharing some of the annual orienting ideas that I came into 2023 with.
Ideal: Become visible & find stability.
This wasn’t really a huge shot in the dark for me and was an easy, broad ideal. Everything I did in 2023 was intended to encourage becoming more visible — avoiding the reclusive nature when possible — and finding more of a footing while living life on my own.
A real interesting decisions for sure.
In 2023, this translated to a better sense of everything from monthly budgeting to self-awareness and restraint. It also meant being much more radically authentic than I’d otherwise be encouraged to be in daily life. But, month over month, I didn’t really see that goal reflected in the physical or tangible ways I expect.
The Calendar
January — Outlandish
Like all good moments, I think January started off as expected. The month was much more challenging for reasons just outside of my control or moments in history — not the hang ups of the present.
I think alot about this video throughout January, in notes and random moments, because it was a strange moment of disembodiment. It’s not something I think any one can see, just the first time that the feeling of needing visibility felt… irrelevant? Mildly annoying? Almost unnecessary?
Birthdays and anniversaries aside, I think the ideal this year was more a challenge: how can you transition into a final form? Something you see yourself as in 5 years or more.
I don’t have the answers, but I stand by the “bricked up” commentary for the giggles real and imagined.
February — New Work, Old Problems
I recall and write through this month as if it’s a bit hazy — a lot of what I’m willing to share in February feels…. too personal?
Without pulling out direct quotes and context, I’ll say that February feels distant and much more stressful than I’d like to admit.
A lot of messages and comments from this month surround missing people. New jobs, accelerating departures, and a closer ear to the ground.
This month also hosted a ton of hearing discontent, rather than direct experience. I found joy in trying to get adjusted and overcome some mix of academic, professional, and personal issues during the first months of the year.
However, I realized that my feelings (it feels weird to countenance even the phrase “my” since so many feelings can feel extremely far away) didn’t actually manifest. What was important in February was survival through transition.
March — New Engagements
Golly gee, aren’t we the bastion of overcommitment.
Part of my goal of increased visibility required that I take a few more chances with scheduling and time. Boy, what a decision.
While I made a few commitments to speak in professional courses and classes around the D.C. area, I also tried to do more dating (a total of two dates, which surprised even me), commit to attending more events, and focus on this degree.
Unfortunately, I don’t know if you can really do it all in a healthy way. Looking back, this was a low point — it’s harder to recognize myself in photos, my weight began to really balloon, grounding and mental health practices didn’t work, months pass in journals and notebooks that I can’t really dare to recount.
Note: I’m much more upfront than I was in the draft above about trauma and mental health. March marks the lighter of two trauma anniversaries, so the vibe truly makes sense.
April — Twin Time
Though my visibility online didn’t really meet my personal standards, there are hundreds of pictures I realized weren’t for the public. Some things were just for me.
Appearances, books, all the things I did in D.C. just didn’t compare to Illinois/Missouri/Kentucky.
I found my way to my twin around my birthday, kiki’d with friends near both of my hometowns (I’ll claim all of Southern Illinois until the day I die), worked to get ahead on bills, and even got to feel briefly on top of the Ph.D.-meets-employment chaos.
The month involved a pretty dope movie (I watched Everything Everywhere All At Once on a date with a person who high key could fall into the friend category at their whim) and the realization that (the royal) we had started searching for some balance.
Doctoral student Ivy was shopping around and finalizing a committee for candidacy, shopping around for a solid psycho-ed specialist, and really getting the world in order. A slow, forgettable process for sure.
May — Recalibrating and Redefining
May was… May was hard.
I wanted to end one semester and start another summer with a unilateral focus on the development of some really strong foundations for a comprehensive examination — Ph.D. student speak for “I wanted to be ready to become a candidate and work on a dissertation. We found ourselves formally stationed elsewhere with good reason.
My mom, the adorable center of the universe, remarried this month in a service that was short, small, chill, and ideal for her start. I got a new sister and a solid reason to visit home (during finals week, because calendars hold chaos and order in their hands) that didn’t water down to “hanging out with friends” or “just visiting”.
That stretch of days was exhausting, not for any reason related directly to the service. Time is just incredibly limited and, by May’s end, I really felt the weight of time in a way I can’t call familiar.
A countdown began in my house, pointing to an intensive fall with no shortage of opportunities for educational advancement, training, and — of course, my car decided to become unusable.
June — Free as a Bird
We got bird scooters, we got metro. We don’t have time.
It’s summer, so I definitely shouldn’t continue feeling this gnawing since of time lost. Yet, if you asked me what the overarching theme of June was, before my best friend and sister’s birthday, the answer would be a ridiculous amount of “free as a bird” references.
I didn’t mind, after the past few months of gaining weight and hitting high-stress periods, the finality of pushing a scooter down the street — I’d actually spent most of the spring semester doing exactly that.
Over the summer, however, time was operating differently. I needed to get to the library, get to work, get back home from an overnight shift long after the metro closed, avoid wasting money on Uber and similar ridesharing services, make it to the office or library to grab a book for research. And, for reclusive, bird-owner Ivy reasons, I just didn’t want to communicate with anyone.
I think, at this point, visibility is taking on new meaning. I definitely want to be seen, engaged with, found… but not helped or unable to help. I want to avoid a sweaty or cold 2 hour transit at 4 a.m., but I’m convinced I don’t know anyone well enough.
July — ‘What was the last movie you watched?’
A really good month, but definitively broke me a bit here.
July is a lot of sound, lights, functions, and stimuli that I’ve written 0 good things about. I looked back at goals and found a podcast — a project — but only a partial will to participate in creating a thing again.
That part of me needs a job and a reasonable intersection of research and professional work. That part didn’t need anything else, and so we went for it.
Thus, an ongoing project is (re) started, and deep reading for a comprehensive exam finally feels within reach.
August — Duck bills
Oh my gosh, what a month.
The first month of really looking back at academic attempts and ventures and trying to perfect something. The first time I was among those at an academic conference.
Reclusive parts of me, which are the vast majority, settled for a background seat as this real, integral version of Ivy made appearances.
I don’t love the photos from these moments — I found myself settled behind a camera too much, per usual. However, I loved being able to identify myself in the moments others captured.
Photos, in this moment, became a weird part of remaining visible and retaining visibility. At events and in videos with friends, I realized checking a camera was a unique grounding opportunity that could make me really visible to myself.
Now, if only we could learn how to write our thoughts better. C’est la vie, for now. There was too much to do, too many places to go this summer. Not everything is clear, as is customary at this point, but it’s worthwhile and vivid in flashes.
September — Solidarity, Solitary
Unions and Uniting forces are the center.
By September, I was pushing to have my friend’s backs in different ways. I was saying friends. Calling people friends.
I don’t have much to share here, as the school year really takes over. I just know we were starting to align around a single thought process without much limitation.
Oh, and something about jury duty. Who doesn’t love a bit of jury duty?
October — Reading, but not for Research
Woah, we’re reading a book. A rom com?! I’ve got to tell my therapist about this one.
I think October remained a kind of “strap in” month!
I didn’t do everything I wanted to at the quality I hoped, but I found notebooks and scribbles about imperfection uniquely gratifying as academic or personal challenges arised.
My closest friends gathered for a celebration of a Dirty Thirty that should never be ignored. I was there, and I recall it all.
I also finished reading and watching Red, White, and Royal Blue as a treat for doing way too much reading, which definitely unlocked a mental health venture between me, my selves, and the therapists that deal with weekly thought vomit.
Congrats, you summer milkshake of a book and film, you finally got to me. I took you with some Lactaid and enjoyed every single swig right down to the last drop.
November — Blank Space (Ivy’s Version)
Some things have yet to change.
I’m just getting used to this particular chunk of time, in part because it always feels like something that sneaks up on the whole of me.
It’s hard to explain the whole mental-physical health construct that this month shakes and restructures constantly. I think only a few people have ever dated me through this chunk of time, lived with me through this chunk of time, or really reflected on November the way I do.
My mom will tell you that I’ve been in therapy on and off for more than a decade, though she and my family would never share the reasons without chatting with me. My family and a few friends are some of the only people who could kind of see through variations on my tone and look and… could really understand when something was off, even and especially when I drown out particularly bad moments.
This month, however, was a first at the intersection of high stress and specialized treatment and trauma and sickness and… it was just a lot that I never share and willingly forget.
Note: In a first, we don’t recover from this particular experience for a few weeks. There’s no journaling to keep track of or time to assess, just an acknowledgement that the world will feel bad for a while before any reprieve comes.
However, at my least stable, I still value this protective mode. I am okay and alive and able to function without seeming fully insane and this particular time is part of that process. Once I was back in action, this was one of two real knock-out items for my academic and professional development. It also was and is ridiculous necessary at this point in my life.
Definitely a problem I’d rather have and reflect on in my mid-twenties than bring into my thirties… life is ridiculously long, y’all.
December — Revamp and Reprioritize
This photo is weird and means a lot for not many reasons. I don’t see anyone’s face, but I do see myself embodied. I don’t see where I started the year, but I do see good places to reorient. I don’t see the places I’m currently living, but I do see the me supported by a community and in a community that I deeply support.
In 2023, I became more embodied.
Between you, me, anyone with Google, a therapist, and several family members who tire of my writing, I really do think all of this made more… physically present than I expected.
After this year, with respect to something I’ve subtly ignored and amid challenges of the grandiose, systemic kind, I’ve been much more able to stay together than I expected.
This didn’t translate to stability, necessarily. (I genuinely think I’m reconsidering stability as a goal because it felt so deeply rooted in capitalism and a desire to survive than previous years’ ideals.)
It was distinctly neurotypical. It was distinctly cis-het. It wasn’t considerate of me in the whole. Just a part.
I prefer the self awareness and relearning that I wouldn’t have experienced save the year/life trials or tribulations.
Congrats, 2023.
You’ve earned a weird nod as I pass you on the street.
You weren’t perfect, but no one and nothing is.
I didn’t, and shouldn’t, want you perfect.
So, in the rear view,
I won’t call you anything other than what you are.
You are just hovering — near what’s needed but never outstanding.
I support you for that
Now, next year, throw me some lottery numbers.
I’m excited to share this annual reflection and have already started 2024’s, per usual!
For now, enjoy the holidays you celebrate and be safe.
