new year

2023: Keep what works, bin what doesn’t

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Ever since our daughter started school, our son started nursery, and I went back to work, my mental to-do list has felt longer than ever. Every time I tick something off, three more items somehow appear.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy. I like all of my life’s component parts very much. 2022 came to teach me that you can feel both happy with your lot and overwhelmed by the logistics of keeping it all ticking over. I believe this is called adulthood and I was not ready for it.

So I’m in no position to set ambitious New Year’s resolutions. I won’t be learning a new language or running a marathon any time soon. But I do intend to stay upright and continue moving forwards, which is all anybody needs from me anyway.

Rather than setting goals for 2023, I’m setting more of an approach to it, hence: Keep what’s working, bin what’s not.

Because some of the stuff I’ve been doing over the last year has made a positive difference to my life. And some things… less so.

Things for the bin

For example, the length of time it takes me to fix simple things is ridiculous. It took me more than two years to glue a toy back together. The job took less than five minutes when I finally did it.

I was given a photo frame for Christmas 2021. It took me 11 months to have two pictures printed for it. I am still yet to put them in there. WHAT AM I WAITING FOR?

This quirk can definitely go. Taking advantage of quick wins might make me feel more productive too – bonus!

Another habit that’s been doing me no good, is feeling guilty if I stop and do nothing. Ah yes, the classic trap of the overwhelmed! You think that if you just keep going and going forever, you’ll magically feel on top of things.

But guess what? None of us will ever conquer our to-do lists without rest. And sitting on the sofa feeling bad that you’re not folding laundry does not count as a break. I need to do proper, mindless nothing at some point everyday. It’s really not too much to ask.

Like most people, I spent too much of 2022 on my phone. You shouldn’t beat yourself up for it as so much of our lives happen on them. But it’s when I’m scrolling late at night that I do myself damage. I end up feeling hungover the next day. So I’m trying to establish a more healthy boundary around that. WhatsApp will still be there in the morning.

Things I’ll keep

But it’s not all bad news. There are plenty of things that are working for me, so they can come with us into 2023.

2022 was a horrible year for some of the people I love. I learnt more about what it means to be a friend in the last 12 months than I ever have before. I check in with people now more than ever. When you can’t help in any other way, you can at least stay in touch. They may not have it in them to chat back right now, but if they know you’re there, they will when they’re ready. So, friends, expect to hear from me in 2023!

The only reason I’ve survived the last few months is because I’ve started writing down every single thing I need to do. Whether it’s a deadline I need to meet, stuff I have to buy, or messages I want to reply to, it needs to go on the list. I realised that I can’t focus unless I can see on paper that I will eventually get to everything.

And before you ask, yes I do also add on unanticipated tasks after I’ve done them so that I can still tick them off – because I know how to have a good time.

Speaking of lists, I’ve mentioned before that I like to write a quick list called ‘Today’s good things’ in my diary at the end of each day. It’s a chance to stop and notice the high points of even the most exhausting days. I adore the simplicity of it. I did this almost everyday in 2022 and now I have a book filled with notes on nice moments I might otherwise have forgotten, and reasons to be grateful. This habit is 100% staying. I’d love to find more time for longer, just-for-fun writing in 2023, so I’ll be on the lookout for suitable windows.

After I write each night, I read before I go to sleep. Not for long. Sometimes it’s just a page, but it always makes me feel calmer. I think I also love it because this time belongs to me, and so few minutes do these days. Perhaps I’ll be able to grab more moments with a book this year, who knows.

In the spirit of taking time for myself, I’ve been investing a bit more money, time and energy in my skincare over the last few months and I like it. I’ve no idea if it’s making a difference to the way I look, but caring for myself feels good, and that’s worth just as much to me.

Anything that increases your confidence is worth having really, isn’t it. And I’ve realised that reframing how you boost your self-esteem is key. Somebody told me that doing things that scare you is really about expanding your comfort zone. So yes, they may make you nervous, but that’s just a normal part of embracing opportunity.

I’ve tried to keep this in mind when driving to new places, meeting new people, and saying yes to new work, and it’s helped a lot. Here’s to more comfort zone expansion for all of us in 2023.

Happy New Year!

Intentions for 2022 and beyond

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To avoid the ‘I’ll be happy when…’ trap

We bought a house in June. It’s great to be here, there’s just lots to do to bring it up to date.

Ever since we arrived we’ve been having rooms decorated and bathrooms renovated. And I noticed early on that when a project has such an endless to-do list, it’s tempting to let your own impatience prevent you from feeling happy with progress.

I had to stop myself thinking ‘If only we could get the bedrooms painted, then I’ll be happy’ and then as soon as that was done ‘Ok, now we need the downstairs loo done, then I can be content’.

If I sign up to that way of thinking, I’ll deny myself happiness… forever? Houses are never really finished, are they.

No, I cannot wait to get the eighties kitchen out and modern fittings in. And yes, toilets made this century will enhance our lives. But I’m not going to hate my house until it’s all done. I refuse to lose sight of how much I love how far we’ve come.

To keep celebrating the little things

For the first six months of 2021, I wrote a list everyday in my diary called ‘Today’s good things’. (We then moved house and had a baby. I’ve hardly had time to go to the toilet since then let alone write anything down).

I’d pick out a handful of reasons to be grateful for the day we’d just had. I did it to boost my morale during lockdown, and to remind me that even when life feels tough, there’s always good stuff going on too.

I felt quite emotional reading it back. I’d noted down so many little things that meant that, despite the context, we were lucky and happy. Fresh air featured a lot, as did cuddles with our daughter. On one day I ended with ‘Just how much we love her’. Aside from mentions of life changing stuff like house move progress and baby scans and kicks, most things were small, everyday moments I wanted to cling to.

It helped at the time and it’s a lovely thing to look back on. So I’m going to do it again for 2022. Our son is already growing up too quickly so I want to write down all the ways he brings me joy. As long as he lets me sleep I’m sure I’ll have the energy to pick up a pen again.

To speak to myself more kindly

Anxiety and I will live alongside one another forever I’m sure. But when my inner dialogue and I work as a team, that’s when I get to win.

I haven’t done so well on that front lately. I found a note I wrote whilst trying to work through a worry which said “Anxiety makes you feel small and insignificant but also massive and in the way”. And that’s the problem. It skews your view of yourself and the world to such an extent that it makes it difficult to have the rational, helpful thoughts that would make it go away.

So I want to keep working on that inner voice.

My excellent friend Alexa Radcliffe-Hart wrote this great blog about selecting a word to guide you through the year. I think I’m going with ‘Deserving’ for mine. Of space, kindness, rest, choice. It’s what I want my children to believe about themselves, so I need to model it myself.

To be truly present when I can, and kinder to myself when I can’t

The combination of being a worrier, planner, and a parent means I find it hard to live in the moment. But I’m definitely happier when I do, so I’m trying to make it more of a habit.

I’m learning to spot opportunities to let go and just play with my daughter or walk at her pace or cuddle the baby. We don’t always have to be moving towards the next thing.

…but we do sometimes. So when I have to keep half my head in the future, planning for the next snack/meal/nap/absurdly large load of washing, I need to forgive myself for it. I’m doing my best.

To read more

This will be my goal forever. I think I read about seven or eight of my books in 2021 (plus 4000 children’s books). It’s not a contest, just something I enjoy so I intend to do more of it. Even just a page a day is worth having.

To keep writing what I feel like writing

If it brings value to you (and it doesn’t hurt anybody) there is value in whatever you feel like producing. That’s what I tell myself every time I sit down to write.

I get so much from writing – whether it’s in a notebook to clear my mind, or published here. So I’m going to keep doing it when I can.

It occurred to me at the end of the year that this blog started as a simple creative outlet, then it became a series of what are essentially love letters. To my husband, my friends, my family, myself, and, more recently, to my children.

I look forward to writing many more.

I hope you will do more of what you love in 2022. Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.

If you’re happy and you know it, be sure to mention it

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We spend a lot of our adult lives learning how to tell people that we want things to change.

We go on training at work about how to give feedback. We listen to radio phone-ins about how to ask fellow commuters to be more considerate. We read agony aunt column after agony aunt column about how to get our spouse to PLEASE JUST CHANGE THE TOILET ROLL FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE LOVE OF ANDREX.

And whilst there is of course value in finding ways to make the imperfect better, my plan for 2020 is to spend more time pointing out the things that make me happy just as they are.

A couple of years ago I started keeping a gratitude list. Every week I make a note of the things – big and small – that have happened that I want to remember and that prove that life is great. I’d seen somebody on Twitter recommend it, so I thought I’d give it a go, and it’s done me the world of good – not just because it’s healthy to be grateful for what you have, but because it’s made me realise what really matters to me.

I kept a list every week in my 2019 diary, and though the exact words differ from week to week, the same themes come up time and time again. Cuddles with my daughter. Seeing her laugh. Time chatting to my husband. Moments to myself to read or watch TV. A catch up with friends. A really excellent cake. A visit from my mum. Managing to stay awake throughout an entire film (this happened approximately twice in 12 months). Proof that I’m keeping my mental health in check. Space to do the work I want to do. Our home.

There are weeks when I’ve noted down special events – new exciting projects, birthdays, trips away – but most of the time, each item on the list is a reminder that it’s the simple things I’m most grateful for. It’s a written collection of all the day to day bits and pieces that could easily go unnoticed, but that are actually my favourite parts of all.

The importance of acknowledging the good became even more apparent to me last year when our daughter got a nasty eye infection. All of a sudden we were in paediatric A&E being told we’d be there overnight so that she could have antibiotics pumped into her little veins through an IV. We caught the infection straightaway and the necessary steps were taken, so all was largely fine, but it was also a bit scary. And it involved spending time in hospital, which is always difficult, particularly when children are involved.

All I wanted the entire time we were there was to go home and back to normal. It made me realise how much I loved our life and that all I need to be happy is to be free to live it, together.

And though that thought process wasn’t new, I wondered if I’d ever actually mentioned how much I liked things, just as they were. I KNEW I’d mentioned how much better life would be if only the bins were emptied more regularly and if we changed a lightbulb more than once every DECADE, but had I said: “Actually, everything we have is everything I want. Nothing else matters”? I’m not sure. So I started.

I’ve tried to take the time to stop and acknowledge when we’re having a nice time, and to tell my husband and my daughter how much I enjoy our time together. I’m an organised person, so I spend most of my time living in the future, planning for the next meal I need to cook, groceries I need to buy, or stain I need to try and fail to remove. And though the world must keep turning, I don’t want to forget to engage with what’s happening now. I don’t want happiness to be something I only recognise retrospectively – I want to notice it in the moment. The future will be here soon enough.

We’ve tried to make it the norm as a couple for us to tell each other when we’re struggling. We let each other know how we’re feeling, we talk about why that might be and what (if anything) can be done, and then we try to move on. It’s not about brushing tough stuff away, quite the opposite. Discussing hard times is as normal as chatting about what’s on TV, so the hurdle isn’t finding the courage to bring it up, but figuring out how we can tackle it together.

And I want it to be just as normal to chat about what’s great. It’s not about living some smug, insufferable life where we pat ourselves on the back all day long, it’s just about making sure we don’t forget that we’re lucky to have each other and that we’ve not forgotten the time when all we wanted was everything that we’ve got now.

My husband reminds me regularly of this Kurt Vonnegut quote, which I love: “And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do, this year and beyond. Notice. Life can be incredibly difficult. Surprising in glorious ways, and shocking in others. So the least we can do is acknowledge when it’s good, and let the people around us know how happy they make us.

And I’ll be keeping up with my gratitude list too. Stopping to note down the funny, touching, meaningful joys I’ve taken from each day is the cheapest form of therapy I’ve ever known, and I strongly recommend it. And it’s a lovely thing to look back on at the end of the year, too.

So that’s my intentions for 2020 officially documented, and I’d love to know what yours are, too. Happy New Year.

Lifestyle and mindset choices, 2019

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They’re not so much resolutions, you see, as choices I want to make about how I live my life and how I think, this year. I figure that if I focus on these, the life goals that I have – the writing work I want to do, the creative projects I want to develop, the marvellously calm and fulfilling home and family life I want to create – will all feel more achievable.

I want to be clear at this point that I’m writing this today as somebody who is struggling with all of this. This isn’t a list written by somebody who’s got it all worked out and who’s advising you on how to be better. This is about writing down what I know I need to do and remember, so that I have it to refer to. And it’s here, too, for anybody else who finds it difficult to keep their habits and mind in check, should they need a little reminder.

This is my plan for 2019:

1. Be a better planet inhabitant

I’ve been trying, like so many of us, to recycle more and to minimise my impact on the planet. I’ve found it really useful to hear from others about action they’re taking, so here are a few things I’m doing on this front:

a) Using washable sanitary products. There was a piece on Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour during 2018 about the level of plastic in sanitary products, and I felt ashamed that I’d simply never considered it. So, I’ve purchased reusable ones as a simple way to reduce the amount of plastic I use and chuck away. I went for these, and there are plenty of others available too.

b) ALWAYS carrying a shopping bag with me. I have become that woman who stands behind her husband in a queue in a supermarket shouting DON’T LET THEM GIVE YOU A PLASTIC BAG, I’VE COME PREPARED! My in-laws bought us a SakItToMe bag for Christmas (they roll up really small and are super easy to carry around) and I’m going to make sure I have it with me at all times.

c) Reducing our meat consumption because science says it’ll help, and listening to science is a good idea.

d) Always taking water out with me. I know it’s an obvious one, but having a baby is such thirsty work that it’s forced me to realise how easy it is to always have a water bottle with me, rather than buying a drink whilst I’m out. I want to try and spot other ways I can cut down what I put in the bin by thinking ahead.

As I said, these are just a few steps I’m taking, and I’d love more ideas. What are you doing to live a greener life?

2. Focus on what I can control: My words, my actions

I’ve mentioned this on here so many times, but whilst it’s a simple concept, it’s very easy to forget.

There are two things in this world that you can control – what you say and what you do. That’s it. When I feel myself getting into a worry spiral (this happens to me regularly), it tends to be because I’ve started tricking myself into thinking that I can or should be able to control other things. But no matter what the situation is, or who it involves, these remain the only two things within our power.

This year I want to be quicker to acknowledge this, as it always makes me feel calmer and lets me put my brain space to better use. Perhaps if somebody could text it to me everyday? I think that would help.

3. Worry less about what people think

I’m never surer that a person cares what people think than when they tell me that they don’t care what people think. OF COURSE YOU CARE, YOU’RE NOT A PSYCHOPATH.

But what matters is that you don’t let it get in the way. That you don’t spend more time thinking about what people think than doing what makes you happy.

I worry every time I write a blog post that somebody somewhere will see it as further evidence that I’m a moron, but do I let that stop me hitting publish? No, I don’t. I just do it and hope that if they think it, they’ll resist the temptation to email me to let me know.

I doubt very much that my worrying about what people think has ever had any bearing on what they’ve thought of me anyway, so it’s really not a good use of anybody’s time.

4. Stay focused on what I’m doing

Is a New Year’s resolutions list even complete without a mention of a more mindful use of social media? I don’t think so.

I have a terrible habit of looking at other people’s life updates and seeing them as evidence of the ways in which I’m failing. I’m most affected by anything to do with people’s careers, particularly when people share publications they’re writing for or books they’ve published (Why don’t I write for them? Why hasn’t the book I haven’t even written been listed as a bestselller?). Since I had a baby, I’ve also started partaking in what I like to call ‘Parenting Inadequacy’, which I highly recommend. All you have to do is forget absolutely every single thing you’ve ever done for your child, look at one photo of a stranger with their offspring in a museum/garden centre/puddle and let yourself feel like the world’s worst mother. It’s fun AND worthwhile!

This is all a total waste of time, leads to nothing good, and is entirely self-inflicted, so enough already. Be inspired by other people, sure, admire their photography if you like, but spend all your time comparing and all you’ll gain is a headache. I’m not a failure for not being somebody else. Being just the one person at a time is NORMAL.

5. Remember that my achievements incorporate everything I’m doing

It’s easy to slip into thinking that you’re not doing enough. Be it for your child or towards your career or whatever. But everybody only has so much time, and life is just a constant game of prioritising. Some days I just have to be a parent and a tired human and my other ambitions have to take a back seat. And then other days I’m full of energy and writing ideas and I manage to get lots done.

I’m prone to focusing far more on what I’m not doing than what I am. And I also let myself forget how much work goes into the various aspects of my life. Being all the different types of people that we are to this world – a mum, a wife, a writer, a The Marvelous Mrs Maisel enthusiast – takes a huge amount of time and energy, and our sense of achievement should come from it all.

6. Be a better friend to myself

You know what I’m good at? Listening to a friend or a stranger about how they think they’re failing at life and then telling them all the reasons why they’re not. You know what I’m bad at? Doing the same for myself.

I met a mum outside my daughter’s nursery this week and told her she was absolutely doing the right thing by having a day where her child was being looked after by somebody else so that she could go and get some jobs done. I then told her how terrible I was for doing the exact same thing.

This year I want to try and step in on my own thought process and be the stranger who would definitely tell me that I’m not such a failure after all.

7. Value my time 

I don’t get a lot, mate, what with the baby and the washing and Coronation Street on five times a week. So I want to be more mindful about how I use it. Be present when I’m with my daughter – play with her, look at her, take her in, and try not to be doing 300 other things at the same time. Check my phone when I have something to check rather than just scrolling for no reason at all. Read a book in the evening, rather than channel hopping until I fall asleep. Use my daughter’s nap times to write and pitch and connect with the creative side of my brain.

I guess what I’m saying is that I want to be kinder to myself, and to the planet this year. How about you?

Thanks so much to everyone for reading what I had to say in 2018, and I look forward to chatting to you more in 2019. Happy New Year, friends.

Aim for 2017: Acceptance

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New Year's resolution: AcceptancePretty much every barrier to contentment I face comes up because I haven’t yet finished accepting who I am, how human beings work, and how life goes down.

So this year, instead of setting New Year’s resolutions to go running at 5am, to give up sweets, or to learn how to re-wire a lamp (no thank you, yeah right and, re-what, now?), I’m going to dedicate my energy to accepting some truths:

That I’m always going to shop high street. So many people who wear vintage clothes look fantastic, chic and cool. But rather than just thinking that, I’ve been wasting energy chastising myself for continuing to purchase clothes from shops every Charlotte, Jemima and Louise can access. But then I realised – this is how I like to dress, and every time I walk into a vintage shop I feel like I do in a hardware store – I know that there is potential in here, but I just don’t have the skills or the vision to make it work for me. And that’s OK.

That my achievements are my achievements and your achievements are your achievements. I wrote a list of the reasons I haven’t yet done all of the things I’d like to do with my life recently, just to make my brain SHUT UP and stop making me feel like a failure. And the main one is this: Because I’ve been busy achieving other things, all of which I stand by. Your brain is so good at telling you what you haven’t done and terrible at acknowledging what you have. So I want to accept this and try to beat it at its own game. We each live different lives and it’s pointless to compare. It’s a much better use of time to be pleased with the life you have, to understand why it is how it is, and to focus on where you’re off to next.

That we’re just not minimalist people. I’m a huge fan of a clear-out and my favourite correspondence of all is a note from the British Heart Foundation to tell me how much my donations have raised. But I can’t give all our stuff away. I like to own books, lots of books. And clothes. And shoes. And old diaries with lists I might just need to refer to. And CDs because I still haven’t let go. My house is like my brain – busy, cluttered, covered in notes and so full of memories it’s ready to burst – and I’m alright with that.

The more you know That crisps are delicious and I like to eat them. I’m not going to try and kid anyone and say that I’m giving up treats. The way I feel when I see that Pringles are on offer for £1 a tube is probably similar to the way a football fan feels when Idontcare United does a goal or whatever – very excited indeed. So I’m not going to deprive myself entirely of this joy, I’ll just try and have a weekends-only rule, or something extremely self-restrained like that.

That conversations about money have to happen. One of the hardest parts of freelancing is the bit where you need to talk about cash. I’ve got better at it – I do it and I’m broadly happy with how it goes – but every part of me tenses when the conversation begins. I think it’s part human nature and part fear of being found out, which is weird because what are they going to find out? That I need to eat? HEAVEN FORBID. This is just a part of the process and I shouldn’t just accept it but welcome it. We all deserve to be paid for our work. And anyway, how else will I pay for those crisps?

That there are worse obsessions than the one I have with notebooks. Nothing brings me hope like a brand new pad. All that potential on those blank sheets – Will I write the next Bridget Jones? The next Hey Jude? The next How To Figure Out If Your Man Secretly Finds Your Laugh Irritating women’s magazine quiz? Paper is for me what drugs and alcohol and large televisions are for other people, except cheaper and much more civilised. We mustn’t beat ourselves up for having something harmless in our lives that we enjoy. Ok, my office might look like a stationery shop’s storage room, but who wouldn’t want to hang out in one of those?

Better than yesterdayThat there will never be enough time. Age is realising that there is nothing you can do to stop time slipping away from you. It’s sitting with your family or friends and feeling the day being pulled out from under you before it’s even begun. Fighting it won’t do you any good – all you can do is try to dedicate the time you have to the people and opportunities that matter most. I want to use my time more efficiently – who doesn’t – but I also want to accept the decisions I make about how I use it. Regretting what you did with one day will only eat into the time you have on another, so that’s a stage we can afford to lose.

That you have to do things that scare you. Fancy being on telly? My friend, you’re going to have to stand in front of strangers and do some acting. Want to write for a magazine? Well, then you’re going to need to email the editor some ideas, probably be knocked back and then send some more. Scary, yes, but maybe also the one step between you and something worth a little perspiration. I have come to the conclusion that if I’m not scared or at least a little nervous about something, it’s generally because I don’t care about it, in which case, why am I doing it in the first place?

That most of the time I’ll never find out what you think anyway. It’s amazing that we invest so much time in worrying about feedback we’ll probably never receive. As much as I may worry that you thought I was a moron over dinner, that my eye make-up was poorly applied, or that my jokes were badly thought through, do I really think you’d say that to me? And if you did, a) Would we really be friends? and b) Wouldn’t I have the right to disagree? I worry about people thinking my writing is bad or silly or pointless, but I still continue to do it, which means I must believe in it. Happiness requires you to back yourself – to have faith that you are a good person and that you’re trying your best – in social situations, in your work, and in your application of eyeliner. And if not everybody likes it, that’s because people are different, which is healthy.

Get shit doneThat life is not linear. One of the hardest things to get your head around is that there is no end point at which you’re handed a certificate for having done all of the things on your to-do list. Your life isn’t all set out in a line so that you can walk along it, ticking off your achievements on a clipboard. It’s much more interesting than that. I know this, I really do, I just forget it sometimes because I really like writing lists and crossing things off. So this year I want to remember how important it is to give yourself permission to stay open to what comes up, to change your mind, and to do what feels right for you.

That you can’t change people. Not the man on the tube who thinks he can sit with his legs spread so wide that they require their own carriage. Not the woman who doesn’t know to keep her questions about the film to herself until she leaves the cinema. And not the guy on the table opposite whose mother forgot to say EAT WITH YOUR MOUTH SHUT, YOU ANIMAL as frequently as mine did. More importantly, you also can’t change your friends, your family, or your spouse into different people. You can tell them if they’re upsetting you, but, after that, it’s up to them. All you can do is focus on being the kind of person you want to be.

I’ll be me and you be you and the rest of the year will take care of itself, I’m sure of it.

Happy New Year, friends.

How to survive the festive period (and hopefully even enjoy it)

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1. Watch It’s A Wonderful Life and pretend that’s the reason why you’re crying

Thank goodness for this film and the perfect excuse it gives us to ball our eyes out without drawing anybody’s attention. This film breaks me every time – the bit with Mr Gower and the wrong pills, the part where Mary tells the children to pray for their father, and the bit at the end (which I won’t spoil, just in case). I’m welling up even as I write this.

But as well as crying at the film itself, I know I’m also blubbing about the year gone by, about all the emotions that Christmas makes you feel, and out of sheer bloody exhaustion. After the year we’ve had, it might be a good idea for us to pop the film on now in the hope that we’ll have pulled ourselves back together by Christmas day.

2. Repeat after me: I am not responsible for anybody else’s fun

I feel a bit anxious ahead of social occasions, but saying this to myself – and truly believing it too – has really made me feel better. You are not responsible for other people having a good time. Be nice to people, sure, and buy them nice presents if you’re that way inclined, but don’t panic that if you’re not on absolute top form then the entire festive season will be thrown in the bin.

Everybody participating in Christmas – or any other holiday – has to bring something to the table, whether it’s good humour, cracking anecdotes or, ideally, gin. It’s not all on you. Now breathe deeply, have a mince pie and enjoy yourself.

3. Buy something new to wear on Christmas Day if you want to – but don’t if you don’t

Be honest, how inadequate are you currently feeling about the glittery-ness of your wardrobe? Your total inability to transform from a normal human being into a sequin adorned princess? I’m guessing quite. Advertising is good isn’t it! But you do know you can just wear something you already own, don’t you? Or that if you do buy something new it doesn’t have to double up as a light source? They should really cover this in school.

I have the Christmas day outfit dilemma every year. This December’s quandary goes like this – do I wear my gold skirt which is covered in so many sequins that every time I walk one of them tries to take a slice out of my leg? Or my new silver skirt, the material of which is so synthetic that when I wear it with a coat, the lining lifts it entirely, exposing, well, everything? As long as I’m not required to move an inch throughout Christmas Day, I guess either outfit will be fine.

4. Reserve the right to say no to social activities

Just a short sharp reminder that your human rights remain intact at Christmas time and if you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to. Or if you do want to but you’re already party-ed/shopped/prosecco-ed out, you’re free to make a wise decision and just stay home. Nobody is keeping tabs on how festive you’re being this year, or any year. Do what you like – as Anne. T. Donahue always says in her excellent newsletter: NOBODY CARES.

How to cope with the festive season5. Make plans to see people in January 

“I HAVE to see you before Christmas!”

“But we’ll see each other before Christmas, RIGHT?!”

Umm, probably not now. We’re into December and any days or nights people do have free are being kept that way to help them recover from all the days and nights they’re out celebrating this joyous time of year.

But guess what – it’s OK! We can see each other in the New Year when we’re all just counting down until March and the prospect of daylight lasting for longer than an hour and need some social interaction to help cheer us up.

I understand the want to see friends and family before Christmas, to remind them that you love them at this oddly emotive time of year, but don’t create pressure that doesn’t need to be there. Sometimes the kindest thing you can say to someone you care about is: you don’t need to worry about seeing me right now, let’s do it another time.

6. See the ‘end of year effect’ coming

Every year on about the 16th of December I start to feel sick. There’s nothing wrong with me, my body just becomes desperate for a rest. All of a sudden I’m making it participate in more socialising in a month than I’ve done throughout the rest of the year and, frankly, it’s not having it. Add that to tiredness I’ve accumulated during yet another 12 months of being a grown-ass woman and I’m just about ready to collapse into a heap at any moment.

This has happened enough years in a row now to make me think it must happen to other people too. But now I prepare for it and this is my advice should you wish to too: see it coming. Avoid going out multiple nights on the trot. Re-read point 4 on this list. Try to eat some of your meals in your own home. Drink plenty of water. Do some really good, deep breathing. Schedule a bath and an early night. Everything really will look and feel better in the morning.

7. Don’t fall into the ‘I haven’t bought mum/dad/the dog enough presents’ trap

BUT WHAT IF THEY DON’T HAVE ENOUGH TO OPEN? is my number one Christmas Day based fear, closely followed by ‘What if I accidentally catch my hair on fire on a candle’ and ‘What if my Christmas socks are in the wash and I don’t get to wear them on the ONE day they were designed for?’

It’s always there, waking me up in the middle of the night, listing everything I’ve bought so far, tutting and whispering “Really, is that all?”

But this year I’m determined not to fall for it. We are all so extremely fortunate that it is ridiculous to think that if we don’t all have thirty five presents to open we’re going to suddenly combust. So say no to the Christmas Eve panic that sees you dashing to the novelty gift section of your local department store and seriously considering buying your nearest and dearest a book of fart jokes just so that there’s more under the tree.

For everybody’s sake, hold onto your money.

Goal for 2015: Be less afraid

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A very happy 2015 to one and all.

With the festive excitement out of the way, my mind has turned to plans for the year ahead and, inevitably, to resolutions. After much thought I have realised that all of mine fall under one heading: Be Less Afraid.

Although in some cases a spot of fear helps to keep you safe, (for example, when I was offered the opportunity to get into an enclosure at a reptile park in Bali with a crocodile for a photograph, I politely declined on account of my fear of being eaten alive), it can also be rather restricting.

A fear of pitching will massively reduce my chances of getting more writing work and I’d very much like some; a fear of judgement means I may never speak to anybody again and I LOVE a good chat; and a fear of making bad decisions means I may have to opt out of making any decisions whatsoever, which in itself feels like a bad decision. I also haven’t been to the dentist for six years because I’m scared, but I do rather like having teeth so I’m just going to have to grin and bear it (and maybe ask my mum to come with me). These fears will only hold me back when I’d really rather be moving forward.

A fear of what people think is the trickiest of all to shake. My aim this year is to remember that it is not something that anybody can control (and also that most people spend most of their time thinking about themselves and when they will next get to eat or go to bed. I know I do). Of course there are ways to influence it – be nice and people will most likely think that you’re nice; behave like a tool and people will probably just stop texting you back – but beyond that, we can only waste time wondering. All that thinking might make us miss a nap or a meal and that just won’t do.

I had a big sort through my tights and socks drawer yesterday (just like every out of control party girl does on a Saturday afternoon) and I adopted a policy to help me decide what to bin – does this bring me joy? When working through a collection of tights so laddered it’s a wonder I haven’t yet been arrested for indecent exposure, it’s quite easy to answer that question, but I’d like to try and apply it to other parts of my life (or at least everything over which I have a choice/control. Emptying the dishwasher definitely does not bring me joy but eating cheese from each and every clean plate in it certainly does. You’ve got to take the rough with the smooth). I will give it a go and if the answer is no then, where possible, I just won’t do it.

It looks and sounds very bold and clear when written out but this sh*t is very hard to crack. But writing it down is a start, as is realising that doing the opposite will only keep you awake at night (which is no good for me as I’m also afraid of the dark).

So yes, less fear, fewer pointless attempts at mind reading and more joy will make for a lovely 2015. Because what is the point of doing anything else? If it’s not going to get me eaten by a reptile or make me miss out on too many meals, I reckon it’s worth the risk.

And you?