New Year’s Eve on my own terms

Kachi Eloka
2 min readJan 18, 2023


Saturday, December 31st 2022.

Five days ago, I thought this year was going to end the same way last year did; with me feeling apathethic, sharing none of the communal excitement about crossing over. (I wrote about this on my IG story back then.)

But, something changed within that time frame and I now feel more at peace as I cradle contentment in my arms rather than apathy.

So, while this year’s ending shares some similarities with last year’s, I don’t feel apathetic— or more like, there is no hopelessness nestled beneath my indifference.

This comes as a surprise to me because I, most definitely, do not have my shit together. E.g. As someone who has grand travel plans for next year, I’m slacking at the job that will give me access to that travel fund. I’ve disappointed people who relied on me to do my job so that they can do theirs and I don’t feel terrible about it (I’m really just numb). I tell myself that I need to do better and that I will eventually get things done — and I will, if given another chance and hopefully a considerate extended period of grace.

But, I’m happy. Not ecstatic, in the way that those experiencing the thrills of “Detty December” in Lagos currently are, nor joyful as those who are out and about in big cities across The U.S., just pleased that I feel at peace.

Pleased that my mind is at rest. Pleased that I’m not beating myself up and tearing myself down with thoughts about my inadequacy and inability to do anything excellently or about all the many ways in which I’m lacking as a person — thoughts which followed me well into the final week of this month, but somehow, through the grace of God, I found my way out of that hole.

I’m grateful that I’m part of a family where each person, in their simplicity, is quite remarkable. I’m grateful for my friend, Laiza, who long ago sent me a book called The War of Art because it was within its pages that I found a lot of the consolation I needed to arrive at this state of peace.

It’s not a New York New Year’s Eve night at Times Square watching the ball drop as I sink into my partner’s arms, but it feels right — perfect even — and to me, that is more than enough.