New Year, Same Me.

Duh.

Noche Buena is Christmas Eve. I cooked the traditional Puerto Rican trifecta: pernil, ACG and pasteles.

We opened presents. I gave thoughtful gifts based on what they said they needed throughout the year which required intently listening to their gibber-gabbering. They gave me the equivalent of the peach candle.

Christmas Day. I built a fire in mami’s fireplace and we (including the cats) sat in front of the fireplace listening to the rain and watching Mikhail Baryshnikov’s Nutcracker. It was quiet. It was low key. There was no confrontations. It was perfect. But, the stillness of the day gave me plenty of time to think.

New Year, Same Me. That’s not entirely accurate. I don’t make promises that can’t be kept and I don’t make resolutions that are unreasonable. Sometimes New Year’s resolutions can kinda be like, “diet starts tomorrow.” Anyone else feel like this?

One of my 2022 resolutions was to take less care of people and in order to do that, I’m gonna have to be a lot more inconsiderate. Saying “no” gives me anxiety (waits to hear the gasps). This comes as a shock, I know. If I wasn’t such a people-pleasing-considerate-constant-checker-iner I wouldn’t have spent two consecutive Christmases consoling two separate white cis-het acquaintances whom I barely speak to in real life. One of which was on the phone and I haven’t even spoken to the person since. They called when they were in need and haven’t called since. But, hey. I’d get the same type of calls from my best friend Jeremy, who died by suicide almost a decade ago. Since then, I’ve always hated the thought of someone suffering on the holidays and not having someone to speak with! The phone equivalent to having an open door policy to my home. And I’m still labeled a bully by so many of my social media followers.

Think about that.

Obviously, the being less considerate thing is working because I put it in practice this morning and was immediately met with resistance and bickering. And a lot of me taking care of people comes in the form of being considerate; something people in this world take for granted.

A young colleague of mine recently described his “type of woman” as being “submissive.” When I asked him to elaborate, he told me that he wanted an old-fashioned traditional relationship where he works and she takes care of the house and him. I had more questions. He gave me an example. He went on a date with someone and at the end of the dinner, without missing a beat or breaking up their conversation, she proceeded to “fix him a plate.” I guess this would also be called, packing up the leftovers? And he said, “Of course, this is something I’d expect all the time if we were together.” First off, foo, that’s not being submissive…THAT’S BEING CONSIDERATE. Secondly, you don’t want a partner, you want a mama. No disrespect. I have made a few plates for the men in my family. Sometimes I’ll make a plate for my partner because the kitchen is busy and he’s a Taurus in a China shop (can we still say China shop? If not, maybe…a shop of rare and antique porcelain figurines?). Or, because we have a big family and I know my little cousin - who’s in the parking lot playing football - will miss out on his favorites because he didn’t get in the buffet line fast enough and my family don’t give a shit. If you miss out, you miss out. But, those were my decisions and they were not expected.

And you can guarantee that it’s not going down in 2022, the year of illyanna being inconsiderate.

Since some of my social media followers seem to think I’m already a bully…watch the fuck out. Y’all really finna be mad. I’m not opening the door for your ass, I ain’t letting you go first in line, I ain’t letting you go by, I’m snatching shit up even if you’re in my way…I’m not giving two fucks for real in 2022. I choose violence.

(proceeds to call Shawn and check-in on his belly button)