A Slutty Little Something

On ringing in a fabulous new year.

2024 was a heavy one in more ways than one, but it was also a period of *unbelievable* growth.

I wrote a few weeks ago that I feel like I’ve aged 30 years, and while I definitely sense a newfound (in some ways unwelcome) gravitas—and have a lot more gray hairs—there’s also plenty to be grateful for this year. Sure, I wish it didn’t take the juxtaposition of more serious life events to feel it, but that is simply the reality of growth. I’m talking true, unrelenting, no-turning-back-now forward momentum. That is my penultimate reflection for the last 12 months.

Now it’s time to have a little fun.

A good hair day means a great year ahead, right?

To be perfectly honest, I’m tired of giving my sadness and grief so much air time during 2024. I’ve talked about the heaviest things in therapy, I’ve been vulnerable with my dearest friends, and I feel like I’m at least somewhat prepared, as much as I can be, for the remaining hardships that I will encounter in the new year (LIFE, man). Those feelings will still be there, morphing every day as I continue to exist both with them and despite them. I’m just trying not to let them suck up all of my energy from this point forward.

So when I across this drop dead perfect headline the other day, it hit me: 2025 is going to be a very slutty year.