I used to have a blog, a long time ago. I technically still do, it’s just locked, with all keys except mine thrown into an abyss.

I can barely stand to look at it. Not because I’m such a different person now, I don’t think. I’m very much the same person. Time has just passed and chipped away at how I perceive myself, as time does. Time passes and things happen, I guess, and if you’d told whoever was writing that blog that by now I’d have a wonderful wife, a miracle of a baby son, a rewarding and challenging career and a big fixer-upper house in the city they definitely would not believe it.

But here I am, and with each new year comes the most obvious excuse to take a moment to take stock. The numbers flip over and reset, and it’s time to reflect. Sit still in a quiet room and reflect.

I’ve gotten worse at reflecting, and reassuring myself that I deserve what I have and what I’ve achieved, as time has gone on. Part of me can’t help but think it’s because I stopped blogging.

It’s such a self-indulgent thing, isn’t it? Blogging? Writing about yourself. Not just writing about yourself, but writing about yourself to an audience. There’s no getting past the fact that when you blog you hope for an audience. If that weren’t the case I’d have written it all in a little diary that I kept in a lockbox under the bed. But I did pick up an audience, an small audience of people who became friends, who will be lifelong friends. And as they became friends I was no longer anonymous, and when I was no longer anonymous I was no longer honest, and when I was no longer honest it was no longer reflection.

New year, new me. I never go in for New Year’s resolutions, but I think this year is different. Maybe it’s since the little guy was born, you know, you get this obligation to work on yourself to become the best example for him. And maybe a good resolution is to be more reflective, to be able to think about what I’ve done and what I hope to do, and maybe I’ll be able to put into words something about the things I’ve done well and the things I’ve failed at so I can offer a bit of guidance and advice to him as he grows up.

I hope he takes it. I think he likes me. He smiles the hugest smile when I get home. I want to think it’s because part of him just instinctively knows I’m some important person, like his mum is, but he’s such a lovely baby that he smiles at everyone. Yesterday, though, he started hollering when I left the room and stopped when I came back in, and J was still there with him. It absolutely melted my heart.

He’s such a joy to look after. It’s such a joy to be able to look after him with J. I don’t know if it happens to all new parents, but we’ve definitely struggled for intimacy. It might not even be a new parent thing: it’s been going on for a while, even before her pregnancy. It might not even be a struggle. She told me once that she feels guilty about it, but I sometimes get the impression that she could live the rest of her life giving me a little peck on the lips before we go to sleep and be satisfied at our level of intimacy. I’ve stopped worrying if it’s something I’m doing or if something about me has changed because she seems happy and the baby seems happy, and I think those are genuinely far more important things than my desire to feel desired.

I say I’ve stopped worrying, but maybe I’ve been busying myself with work to keep me from worrying. I think I’m doing okay at work. There’s an opportunity that’s been offered that will help me stand out in a crowd of pretty impressive people, and I think it’ll be an adventure to boot. I think I’m doing okay, but I cannot for the life of me shake impostor syndrome. This year is a big one for a few external judgements of me professionally, and a few of those judgements are due fairly soon. I feel as though they could go well, in which case I finally get to feel like I belong, or they could go badly, in which case it confirms I’m a fraud. I think the way to get past that is to keep putting myself in positions to be judged, because my word do the positive assessments feel good.

I think that’s us caught up, then, since the last time I blogged. Probably over a decade since then, but it passes in the blink of an eye, it really does. Maybe there’ll be more time to appreciate it if I take the time to reflect. There are worse New Year’s resolutions.