transitioning from 2023 to 2024
on meaningful connection, bangs, and finishing notebooks
I originally began this entry as my 2023 successor to “22 thoughts from 2022,” as I endeavored to write 23 reflections that summarized my 2023. Newsflash: I didn’t finish in time for the New Year. Instead, this essay evolved into ponderings I’ve carried into 2024, which resulted from a combination of my original 2023 list + new items that have cropped up in 2024 so far.
You may be asking yourself – what authority does this girl have to make such grand conjectures about life? That question has proven my biggest roadblock to writing (hence my leave of absence), so I’m here to announce: I don’t have the objective authority! Debatably, no one does. But I do have the authority to speak on my subjective experience, so that’s what I’m doing.
The theme of my 2023 was connection. New connections. Missed connections. Not-on-my-bingo-card connections. Resurfaced connections. Fading connections. Being disconnected. Being too connected. While making small talk with a mutual friend on the sidelines of a local sports game, she asked me if I found NYC to be a small world, to which I answered “no.” Shortly after, I encountered a period of back-to-back blasts from the past, which quickly changed my answer to “yes.” This amusing string of coincidences even led me to seek answers from Co-Star, whose directions like “don’t be a bitch” proved more entertaining than educational. (Note: I’m not a legitimate astrology girl, but I do enjoy Co-Star’s daily updates.) Ultimately, letting “connection” guide my year positioned me to marinate in how people appeared in and disappeared from my life, because where’s the fun if you don’t overanalyze the symbolism of everything?
I’ve always hated the saying, “You’ll find it when you’re not looking,” because the following punchline is a woman (always a woman) standing still with her hands covering her eyes while yelling, “I’m not looking!” The saying’s literal translation encourages defying physics – for every lack of action, there is an unequal and opposite reaction (the right person happening to float along) – which I’ve always found to be a stupid notion because it completely revokes an individual’s autonomy to pursue the connections they desire. I think, then, the saying’s meaning isn’t about taking a step back, but instead about being caught off-guard and leaning into it. Spontaneity, if you will. It’s not about coffee shop meet-cutes being the opposite of meeting online (both platonically and romantically); rather, it’s about encountering the unexpected in unexpected places. I do hate corny things, and this all sounds quite corny, but the older I get, I see why corny things stand the test of time.
From Elif Batuman’s Substack The Elif Life, the below quote has felt particularly resonant, re: connections:
“But I found it so funny and moving, and so true to life, where you show up in a world populated by people whom you’ve never met, but who turn out to have a long history with you already, and someone somewhere expects some nameless important thing from you, and you have to decipher what it is.”
I’ve now lived in NYC for nearly 1.5 years, and my ongoing second year in the city has proved much smoother than the first. I have a better understanding of things in relation to each other and finally own more than one warm coat. Transparently, I have mixed feelings toward NYC for a variety of reasons, but I’m overall happy with where life has landed me here. I now reside in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan, which has played a large role in improving my life quality. I’m obsessed with my current apartment because I can fit a desk in my room, and it gets so much natural light I could cry. (My tiny Manhattan bedroom faced a brick wall and was very sad.) How I curate my space continually proves to be critically parallel to my overall well-being, and I’ll never skimp on that again.
I got a job I actually like, which, surprisingly, has unlocked a different level of existential thought. As of my last entry, I was unemployed and very pessimistic about the working world. Now, I’m pleased to report I’ve been at a decently fulfilling job since February. I’ve since learned, however, that being satisfied with success can be more daunting than navigating a blank slate. When I previously hated my job/was unemployed, I focused all of my energy on what I desperately didn’t want to do, which could be rather motivating. Life became all about acting on daydreams. Now that I’ve found more comfortable professional footing, I find myself asking, “Is this what I want to do forever?” This question speaks less to the quality of my employment and more to my pending quarter-life crisis as I turn 25 this year (and that I’ve worked in social media since I was 18). In short, I don’t have an answer to that question (yet).
Stability is great up to a certain point. Before someone comes at me with concerned therapy speak, no, I’m not trying to chase highs and default to “grass is greener” syndrome, which is something I used to struggle with. What I’m getting at here is complacency. To my previous point, being comfortable in my career has allowed me to breathe easily for the first time in my life, but I’ve noticed my creative drive has consequently taken a hit. Maybe the solution here is to work on not associating ambition with need/desperation. Maybe I’m learning what to make out of peace as the standard, not the exception, for the first time. Things to mull over.
I’m learning to take advice from the internet with a grain of salt. This one may seem obvious, but I’m easily influenced. I believe in the internet’s ability to be incredibly eye-opening, but it’s just as likely to present black-and-white thinking that corners you into this ideal about the “right” or “wrong” way to be, with no credit to life’s grey areas. I make a point to scroll past TikToks that lead with some version of “hot girl habits” because I find such blatant monoculture dystopian (additionally, 99% of these videos boil down to 1) consumerism and 2) appealing to the male gaze). What if I don’t want to be the optimized version of myself? What if I want to just be myself? It’s time to put down the “[hyper-specific problem] + reddit” Google search and just, like, go outside.
incredibly unrelated is this photo of frieda, my sweet and spry 14-year-old mini dachshund who lives at my parents’ house in florida
My top five songs of 2023 – self-appointed, not Spotify-determined – were as follows (further, see my playlist of these songs here, which also includes five honorable mentions):
“American Teenager” by Ethel Cain
“Is It Over Now?” by Taylor Swift
“Even on Bad Days” by Flyte
“White Teeth” by Ryan Beatty
“Into Your Room” by Holly Humberstone
I think my favorite movie of 2023 was Theater Camp? 2023 was a major comeback year for cinematic releases, so choosing a true favorite is difficult because I watch a lot of movies and can’t remember them all. So, I came to my conclusion based on two simple factors: 1) The viewing experience was unforgettable, and 2) Amid the ongoing Ayo Edebiri craze, this was my favorite work of hers in 2023. On the film’s opening night, I walked a humid 45 minutes from my then-apartment in UES to the Theater District AMC for a solo movie-watching evening. To my pleasant surprise, the crowd in my theater was (naturally) filled with current and former dramatic arts junkies (myself included), and the ensuing laughter was the liveliest I’d ever experienced at the cinema (again, I was seeing Theater Camp in the Theater District, if that connection wasn’t clear). I can’t imagine a better way to have witnessed the sheer joy that is Theater Camp, unless that crowd began reenacting the movie as it was playing, which they were clearly more than capable of doing. Since that night, the Theater District AMC has become my favorite AMC in NYC, though I’ve never been back since.
My favorite book I read in 2023 was Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. I hesitate to award Zevin’s book this title because it was a big #BookTok read, which I intentionally abstain from (see my friend Madison’s excellent Substack entry on #BookTok and overconsumption). Nonetheless, I’ve decided it deserves the crown because it’s the book I most recommended to friends in 2023.
“Everyone keeps recommending me that book, and at this point I refuse to read it.” – My friend who works in video game design (iykyk)
I’m slowly accepting that I may have basic taste. As they say, things are basic for a reason. I like to think I’m basic with a little *spice,* but I’m not certain my above two points follow my argument. To drive this point home, my middle school self would tout how “different” I was because I liked indie music, which really just meant I routinely purchased the top 50 alternative songs on the iTunes store. At heart, I’m still this person, just with a little more self-awareness.
Further, I leaned into a basic wardrobe in 2023 and have never been more content with my apparel. I’m so glad society is cycling beyond painfully bold COVID-era patterns and embracing a basics-forward palette. Dressing more simply – while still making room for my own style – has helped me feel more confident in my sense of self, as opposed to costuming myself in the image of who I’m “supposed” to present as. That said, my newfound disposition toward neutrals is likely a combination of maturity and living in NYC, but I still stand by the fact that I like West Coast fashion more than East Coast.
One of my biggest wins of 2023 was finally, finally achieving the clear skin of my dreams. Knock on wood. Allow me to be publicly vain for a moment. For most of my adolescence and early 20s, I struggled with debilitating, painful acne and subsequent scarring. For years, I would wake up, look in the mirror, and immediately think I want to rip my face off. I wouldn’t leave the house without makeup (which sometimes barely made a difference). I felt like I had no idea what I actually looked like. The first thing I would notice about anyone was their facial skin, and if it was flawless, I would immediately harbor some jealousy toward them. My skin issues persisted during some of my most vulnerable years, which fostered low self-confidence in ways I still find myself unworking. I could go on and on and on. In late 2022, a godsend of a dermatologist prescribed me a set of topicals and medication that revolutionized my skin, and after a year of consistent medical-grade skincare, I feel like an entirely different person. Now, putting on and taking off makeup is fun instead of a thin disguise for my highly visible insecurities. I admit to compulsively checking myself out in my iPhone camera far too often because I need to keep reminding myself the acne isn’t there anymore. It may sound silly to care so much, but being able to like how you look by your own standards is such a fundamental, freeing experience that everyone deserves to have.
Everyone should get bangs at some point. Bangs fucking rock, and I like to think I look like Sabrina Carpenter. (I was Sabrina Carpenter for Halloween).
I’ve redefined my relationship with going out. This is the first year where I’ve actively chosen to stay in on some Friday and Saturday nights without being ravaged by FOMO. When I do go out, I know when to stop imbibing and go home, or I know when I don’t want to drink at all. Also, “going out” can mean other activities besides just drinking at bars. My former 21-year-old self would be shocked at this change of heart, and my current 24-year-old self muses at what is lost and gained when recklessness no longer holds the reigns, which leads me to…
No one wants to be messy anymore, and this isn’t just about alcohol and going out. (Watch THIS TikTok before continuing.) Echoing point #6, I think our online-fueled gravitation toward optimization and surveillance has made many young people quite risk-averse (myself included at times). I’ve had a surprising amount of conversations with peers (all a few years out of college) who preach staying in and guarding their boundaries with impenetrable force. Obviously, a certain degree of aversion comes with aging (“don’t touch a hot stove”), and it’s important to be in touch with your limits, but what happened to letting your guard down and getting a little silly?
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Finding genuine vulnerability in adult friendships is hard, and I’ve been searching high and low for the solution to this dilemma. Building upon #16, the structure of adulthood is not often favorable for messy emotions that are necessary for intimacy-building experiences. In comparison, I’ve wondered, are teenagers considered more emotional because they biologically are, or is the setup of adolescence simply conducive to having no responsibility (generally) except to feel? From a child’s perspective, are adults actually “boring,” or are adults just forced to silo their expressed feelings to three-hour weekend brunches and occasional vacations? Food for thought.
The best thing age has brought me is an intuition for charisma. Within the first five minutes of meeting someone, I can generally gauge how well we will connect on an emotional level. If we don’t vibe, I enjoy the pleasantries and move along, which can be just as socially vital as the more emotionally fulfilling exchanges. This discovery has done wonders for my innate need to people please.
Religion made an unexpected thematic comeback in my life. No, I’ve not returned to my religious roots, but similar to my period of blasts from the past, there was a period this year when religion kept cropping up in conversation or imagery. During this time, I kept Ethel Cain’s album Preacher’s Daughter on repeat (she’s also from the Florida panhandle), and this section of her Wikipedia page really spoke to me:
Otherwise, the music video for Sabrina Carpenter’s “Feather” was my favorite MV of 2023 (and was filmed in my neighborhood!). When faced with backlash from the Catholic church, she responded with the best comeback of all time: “We got approval in advance, and Jesus was a carpenter.”
Splitting your life into more than one location can become more draining than fulfilling. For the first six months of 2023, I traveled outside of NYC at least once a month, in part because it was cold until April and in part because I wasn’t happy. I was stuck in a oh-I-don’t-need-to-buy-grocieries-I’ll-be-gone-in-two-weeks cycle, which I eventually realized was self-sabotage that was preventing me from actually settling into my life in NYC. In the latter half of the year, I instead chose to keep my occasional travel local, which, consequently, upped my connection to the city tenfold. Unlike my early post-grad days, I’m now finding I no longer care to be so on the go. Similarly, during my New Year’s trip to Los Angeles, I came to the bittersweet conclusion that my life had moved on from my once-beloved sunny city, meaning my sights will be focused on NYC for the foreseeable future (though I still entertain the idea of one day moving back to LA and buying a house in Los Feliz). In my 2022 summary, I noted how I was making “tricoastal” a thing. I’m here to release an updated statement that this initiative has been scrapped.
january 6, 2024: watching a sunset at barnsdall art park in los angeles (this is a metaphor for my above note)
I finally finished a journal I’ve been writing in for three years. Today, January 13, 2024, I filled the last page of my Periwinkle Moleskin journal, in which I had been penning sporadic entries since January 17, 2021, better known as my final senior semester at USC. As with any age that comes and goes, these pages are the only remaining access to my raw, precious early adulthood musings, which were some of the most formative and difficult years of my life. Closing this notebook made me emotional, as if I was holding a funeral for my younger self when tucking away this set of bound thoughts to rest among their predecessors. Below is an excerpt from the first page of this then-fresh journal, which feels very full circle:
I’ve admittedly been a bit intimidated to start over with this much more substantial journal. Something about this notebook’s composition – having more pages, being bound in leather, sporting a stringy bookmark, and sealing off with a clasp – adds weight to my words that my previous, more flimsy journals did not. Here I am, serious Rowan with serious thoughts; there I was, unstable Rowan with disposable words. That’s not to say I aim to make my writing here the perfect picture of stability – far from it.
My New Year’s resolution is to get back in touch with things that inspire me.
Bonus: My other New Year's resolution is to bring back this Substack.
reading/watching/vibing:
my winter 2024 playlist here
current album obsession: Paint My Bedroom Black by Holly Humberstone
recently watched: 20th Century Women (2016)
immediately added to my top movies of all time list
currently reading: The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer
I’m about halfway through, but i have a strong feeling this will be my Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow of 2024
just finished reading: Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro
recently purchased: a space heater, memory foam pillow inserts, a black silk sleep mask, and a ring from a flea market that doesn’t fit
current fixation meal: thai green curry
Thanks for indulging my delusions!
<3 Rowan
i loved so much of this!!