(Author’s Note: I was originally going to write this post before the new year, but got a little distracted by this bald eagle webcam and college football…it happens.)

I always used to make New Year’s resolutions, but this year, I’m just not feeling it.

It is quite an interesting phenomenon if you think about it. Every January 1st, millions of people around the world pick something in their lives that they vow to improve. We see this one day on the calendar as a clean slate, a source of hope and renewal, just because it is day one.

Every once in a while you hear a success story. For example, I know of someone whose New Year’s resolution was to lose weight, and lo and behold, they lost 50 pounds. For the rest of us, however, more often than not, resolutions end in failure.

I know that has been the case for me. That’s not to say making a resolution is pointless. There is no shame in sticking your neck out there and attempting to improve some facet of your life. In fact, it should be celebrated! I’ve merely come to the conclusion that I’d rather not set myself up for the inevitable failure and disappointment.

This year, instead of making a New Year’s resolution, I decided to take a look back at 2016, reviewing lessons learned while celebrating my many accomplishments that might otherwise fade into obscurity without proper reflection.

2016 was a unique year for me, full of highs and lows I’ve never experienced before. Above all, it was a year of transition. As someone who likes planning and structure, I found myself begrudgingly surrendering to forces outside of my control.

We’ll start with the lows, to get them out of the way. After graduating from business school this past May, I still haven’t found a full-time job. I have been blessed with two great part-time opportunities that have kept me afloat these past few months, but the ultimate goal has proven elusive. It weighs on me every day. Financial insecurity, especially with a disability and with student loans breathing down my neck, keeps me up at night. Thankfully, I planned for this possibility, and I take full responsibility for the situation I am in, so I will rise above it.

Besides, everyone despises job hunting. Repeated, unrelenting rejection is just plain miserable. Through my circumstances, I have come to know rejection quite well, and have learned to harness it into bigger and better opportunities. But even I have my limits. Constantly being rejected for a job, or worse – not even getting back a response – is incredibly frustrating. I just have to keep grinding. I know that the perfect opportunity awaits me out there, and I’m telling you, when I finally do get hired, I will give everything I have to the company lucky enough to hire me.

But I must also confess, I have been picky with my job search. The truth is, I just don’t have the energy anymore to choose “any job”. It has to be the right fit, an opportunity where I can harness my creativity and communication skills, for a company whose mission I believe in wholeheartedly. The role also has to pay well enough to support the additional expenses that my disease will inevitably incur – such as an accessible apartment, personal care attendants, adaptive equipment, etc.

For the time being, I’ve moved home with my parents in West Hartford. I love my parents, and love being able to see them regularly, but we are all in agreement that I am destined to be on my own. I’ve been in the Boston area the last 12 years and love the city to death. It is where I belong. Despite the move, I am fortunate that I have a home to come back to, and the support that I need to stay afloat during this challenging time.

The greatest challenge in 2016? My weakening body. I lost a tremendous amount of strength last year. I finished school just in time, before my disease really started to affect my quality of life. I don’t think I would survive school in my current condition, at least, not without taking some time off to obtain additional resources. It certainly wouldn’t be impossible, but it would be significantly tougher.

For example, at the beginning of 2016, I could get out of a chair without assistance from another person. Now, it’s impossible. Unless I am sitting on a high chair, I need someone to bear hug me to get me into a standing position. At the beginning of the year I was able to go up small steps and inclines with relative ease. Now, it’s a treacherous affair, given how much upper body strength I’ve lost. Declines are just as difficult. Without upper body strength, my crutches become useless if my shoulder gives out.

I’ve also fallen several times this year, and on two occasions, injured my foot. One fall required x-rays; fortunately they came back negative. The pain lingered for weeks, however.

Look, I know what my future holds. As soon as I lock down a job, figure out where I am going to live, and get a few other things squared away, I am going to buy a wheelchair, assuming of course that an injury doesn’t force my hand.

It is time.

I am past the point where I am afraid of what others will think of me in a chair. In fact, I welcome the freedom a chair will provide me. Sure, there is a laundry list of considerations and questions that remain related to how I will adjust to living in a wheelchair, but, as a whole, I know that it will improve my quality of life. I don’t know what it’s like to walk a few blocks care-free anymore. If I can get that freedom back while rolling down the street, so be it.

So yeah, there are a few things on my mind. But you know what? 2016 was also one heck of a year. To recap:

1. I graduated from Boston College’s MBA program in May. At graduation, not only did the pastor read a quote from one of my blog posts, I also received a standing ovation when I received my diploma, which was completely unexpected (and also flattering). I nearly fainted!
2. My time at BC allowed me to make many, many close friends with classmates and faculty, friendships which I will cherish the rest of my life.
3. I went to Texas. I have never been to Texas.
4. I met my nephew Connor for the first time in August. Although born in October 2015, I was not able to see him until the summer. He is a bundle of joy. I also got to spend a lot of quality time with my niece Sophia.
5. I finally committed to writing a memoir of my experience with Miyoshi Myopathy. Best of all, I have followed through on this commitment and am making substantial progress. I hope to have a first draft done in early 2017.
6. I had a piece published on the Boston Globe’s STAT website in February. I was one of the first patients to ever be featured in their “First Opinion” section.
7. I had the honor of speaking at several exciting events and locations, including:

• The 2016 Rare Disease Day celebration at the Massachusetts State House (~400 people)
• The Muscular Dystrophy Association’s “Fill the Boot” camp at Mohegan Sun Casino (~500 people)
• “Speak Up” storytelling event at Real Art Ways, Hartford (~200 people)
• The Jain Foundation’s patient conference in Dallas, Texas (~75 people) – here’s the video
• Boston College “Bounce Back” resilience panel
• Boston University Medical School genetic counseling class
• Northeastern University Student Alumni Association club meeting
• St. Thomas church youth group in West Hartford

Looking back on that list, I must say that I am not good at celebrating my accomplishments. I dismiss them too easily, mainly because I am never satisfied. Maybe that will be my resolution this year – celebrate when things go well! I dwell so much on the negative sometimes, that I forget to also savor my successes. I deserve to give myself a break from time to time.

2016 was, in totality, a very good year. Maddening and frustrating? Yes. But I made significant progress, providing a foundation for success in 2017. Whether I get a day job or live a life as a writer and traveling motivational speaker, I will not stop until I am at a place where I know that all of my struggles have been worth it.

All in all, 2017 is going to be an interesting year. I have no delusions that there will be more turbulence ahead. But I must remember, against all odds – after years of wallowing in self-pity and hating what my life was becoming – I made it this far.

No matter the uncertainty in my future, I must find a way. That is the only resolution that matters.