#78 – Can You Feel Optimism in 2025?

This is a bit of a follow-up to my discussion of cultural boredom from earlier this year, a little update to my creative slump, and exciting developments for my hunt to replace my reliable crafting supplies. The world still feels like it is on fire, but I think I am learning how to thrive again. It takes me a long time to process things, so maybe that’s why?

Spaghetti and Gnarly

Le Sserafim released a song that captures the wonderfully nonsensical world of a good K-pop song. Spaghetti is catchy, silly, and makes me crave spaghetti, so that’s what I am cooking tonight. It is what I remember the music videos of K-pop to look like when I took the plunge in 2022. It was fun, and in the last few years, it has lost some of its luster with darker concepts, instead of cute, and a bit uninspired. Although I’m fully into K-pop, it has been repetitive and bland for most of 2025. Except for my favorites – Stray Kids and Nmixx. Enter Gnarly by Katseye. A song that is so jarring it’s bad but also amazing, it’s been a weird one for me, the thesis of this year, it has felt like. “Everything is gnarly.” A phrase that has carried me through bizarre headlines and life’s bumpy road this year. For me, Gnarly was going to be the song that typified what I remember feeling in 2025, until Bleep by Stray Kids dropped in August. But now, I hope I will remember moments that feel like the upbeat wonder of Spaghetti. What about Golden? I desperately need to compile notes for K-pop Demon Hunters because that has been such a gift.

Big Twist at Michaels

Big Twist is back at Michaels, for real, and it’s kind of silly to admit this, but it feels comforting. There’s a Joann Knit and Sew Shop section in the store, and like, maybe it was a bad dream? I mean, all the crafting drama definitely happened this year between private equity, tariffs, and Sci Show declaring the arrival of physicists to help the knitters. The familiarity was maybe all my neurodivergent mind needed to just relax a bit? Now the fabric is not good, but it could get better in time. I’m choosing to be hopeful, I mean, the recent US election showed a strong rejection of the Trump Administration, so as people have said all year, if it can get worse, it can get better. And for me, who hates change with a passion, I’ve learned that if it disappears, it can come back. I just need to work on my patience. I have found a second local yarn store in my own state, and a great local fabric shop. I’d say I’m pleased to the point that I am not missing Joann like I thought I would.

Stitches for Identity

I believe I am finally moving out of the depressed forest that is being laid off due to personal and global trauma. I’ve been listening to Kitchen and Jorn’s Losing Followers Podcast, where they have been talking through the post-Buzzfeed time of their careers. I was in a toxic job at Great Dane Trailers in the late 2010s, and it was freeing yet terrifying to lose that job. Listening to Jen and Kristin talk through the transition of leaving a job that demanded all of them, to be free from that monster, but also lose all connection to the project they built from the ground up, has been a balm to me. When I was laid off, I lost my app and my content calendar, my magazine contribution. I was wrecked, and I didn’t know how to process that for years. I felt like a loser. I dove into crafting, and for years, those stitches of thread and yarn gave me meaning.

The blog, though, and finally this year uploading my manuscript to this website this year connected me back to what makes me feel like me. I have always been drawn to writing, and not having that or a way to work towards something bigger than just sharing my creations on social media was gnarly. But this blog and your community have helped me find my way back. I mean, heck, Udal Cuain and my original blog, where I shared chapters, was the portfolio that landed me the corporate job. Although it’s gone, what I learned and experienced stayed with me and has made me grow into who I am now. This has been a full circle.

It’s been freeing to admit to myself and loved ones that I was depressed by that career loss. Starting over again has been confusing, but it’s not all figured out yet. There is still time to find a new place where I belong. I’m in the process of recalibrating, and that is a direction in itself. I feel freed from the weight of “monetizing my hobby” and the impossible summit of creating a small business as someone who truly is not cut out for the accounting or marketing parts.

Unmasking and Coping for the First Time

Truly, though, as I reflect on this year, getting serious about health – mental, physical, and emotional – for the first time has contributed to the feeling of optimism I have leaving 2025 that I did not have entering 2025. I have healthier boundaries in relationships, more honesty about how I’m doing, and whether I am feeling overstimulated. I recently got into rebounding, aka a fancy term for jumping on a miniature trampoline for cardio. Wow, I like this for my mind! It resets me, and it’s helping me get stronger. I used to feel ashamed of who I am. I didn’t understand why I felt so different, nor did I know how to communicate burnout without pushing friends and loved ones away. Being unmasked was tumultuous for the first couple of months, but now I never want to put that neurotypical mask back on.

How has 2025 changed you? I think it has made me unapologetically empathetic. Bolder to say I disagree with wrong because the stakes have been higher than ever in my lifetime. I hope to carry that forward into 2026, because I think the opposite of late-stage capitalism is community, so let’s burn it down with empathy. Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me today. I wish you love and kindness.

Unmasking is Hard

The term “unmasking” was new to me when I first learned of my neurodivergence. I saw it on Pinterest and Instagram, displayed in captions and little relatable memes, but what did it mean?

I felt the full experience of what it means a few nights ago when I was invaded once again by rising anxiety, flooding through my mind, and this pressure, invisible yet firm, closing in on me. I knew deep down that I was close to having a meltdown, from environmental things that a neurotypical would brush off. I also knew that I couldn’t melt down; it wasn’t safe to be me. I couldn’t stim, that would be looked down upon with pity. I had to put on that mask, the normal-brained facade I’ve studied my whole life to become invisible and just blend into the sea of normies.

I feel this pressure to mask the most when I am interacting with my family. My mom and her side, for a brief time, my dad and his side. It’s a quagmire, being the offspring of two very domineering, neurotypical, narcissistic humans.

It’s a lot of work. Why am I sharing this? Because if you feel this way, you are not alone. I see you. I support you. I am rallying for you and I to make it through these moments holding space for us to be as we are, and to feel like we are enough. We don’t need to be fixed, we need to cope with this wild world that doesn’t understand us.

Like an ill-fitting garment, the clothes are the problem not your body. Your brain is not the problem, the world favors one way of doing things and that doesn’t make it right. Being louder doesn’t make your point more correct. There is nothing wrong with who you are and who you were created to be.

I hope wherever you are, this finds you well. That you are safe, loved, valued, and being kind to yourself. The world needs more kindness. Know that I love you and support you. Take the mask off, breathe, stim, and find peace.

Until next time ❤

A Shy Girl Goes To The DMV

I’d say this photo, featured above accurately represents how I feel in situations like going to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) to renew my driver’s license. It’s a blur of moments, faces, government jargon, and touch screens. The big stack of papers signed and passed along in the process of closing on a house is more etched in my brain than the 20 minutes at my local DMV location. There is something about the dull, harsh lighting and bland walls covered in bulletins, electronic screens, and directions. It’s overstimulating and yet underwhelming. It is not a place I feel comfortable in.

This feeling began many years ago during the driver’s permit test process, in a different DMV, equally dull and filled with too many signs and screens. There was always one piece of information I was missing. A document my mom and I forgot, or a process out of order. The test was deceptively easy to study and terrifyingly tricky when taken, and I almost missed too many answers due to the sheer amount of distraction of the dull yet harsh environment.

This time, was one of those such times. Renewing in 2017 was easy, it was a new DMV with friendly people. Renewing in 2021 was an absolute breeze because there was no need to go in for the photo, just click and pay at home. It spoiled me. Renewing this time in 2025 was one of those DMV experiences fraught with tricky trip-ups.

Not surprising for me, it’s been a place I have been thwarted for years, from nervously failing the parallel park portion because I was afraid of my test proctor and his gruff demeanor or forgetting to keep my permit up-to-date and having to renew to test to wait four months for another testing time. The government process is nothing if not inefficient and a war of attrition.

The gauntlet was thrown down. Waiting for Christmas and New Year to pass, I renewed my license online and got stuck in a loop of changing my address. I then could not reach the process to renew anymore, because it was updating my address. So I mailed my renewal and waited. I then received two separate address updates for the license set to expire, but no update on my renewal.

Two weeks passed and I began to anxiously check the internet for a timeline – usually within 15 business days. Oh no, business days…I sent it in the mail on Jan 2, how many days would spend in the USPS system? Then a former president passed, delaying mail service. Was renewing it a month in advance not enough?! We then checked online, showing it had been renewed. Phew! But, when? I received another piece of mail, updating my voter registration automatically, but no temporary license or camera card.

Each day as the mail came, I ran to check it like Ralphie waiting for his Little Orphan Annie secret decoder pen. I began to worry, was my license going to expire waiting for it to show? Was it all going to unravel because of the sluggish pace of the government institution? How was I going to follow behind in my car when my husband’s car went for inspection in February? Was it back to walking for me?

Then one beautiful day I heard the mailbox close with a slam (it’s a very old cast iron mailbox), I scurried from my work room and descended the stairs with the promise of the future in my eyes. My delight was palpable as my hand pulled a DMV envelope from the mailbox. The envelope tore with ease, revealing the temporary license and camera card in my hands. All was saved!

On the next good weather weekend (it’s been a winter of snow squalls) we made our way to the DMV for the last battle left, the camera portion. Now as a shy person, this is the part that still makes me want to recoil. I never liked picture day at school. When a camera is pointed at me I can’t smile normally. I feel like a spotlight bears down upon me, filling me with dread. My smile looks unnatural, sometimes like a grimace if I smile with teeth. If I smile with a closed mouth like I did throughout my braces era, it looks uncomfortable, my shyness written across my face.

Filled with shyness, I sallied forth, pulling my ticket in preparation for a long wait. To my surprise, my number was called immediately and I had to go to a completely separate area, by myself. Something I dread in unfamiliar places. So in a flurry of adrenaline, I went into the photo room and unbeknownst to me went to the wrong side of the table to sit down. The DMV lady shouted at me, my face immediately turning red. Embarrassed and ashamed at my accident, my apologies flowed forth. She continued to scold me in front of the other citizens there to get their photo. It was incredibly awkward.

She was sweet to the other people and continued to speak to me with contempt, even though I continued to apologize for my mistake. I was flustered. Ripping my paperwork and not knowing where to go. Soon the others in front of me were served. It was my time to smile but to be honest, I was so embarrassed and concerned they were going to remove me as a security threat, I knew that wasn’t going to be possible.

Then the weirdest thing happened the lady switched from harsh to calm, saying she needed to yell at me for the camera on the ceiling or she would face consequences. (What? That’s bizarre.) It was tough to trust the nice demeanor, was she going to snap at me again if I made another mistake?

At that point, I was introvert drained from the drama, and wanted to hide. My posture could not hide my internal feelings as I sat down in front of the camera. Flash, the first picture snapped displaying a red-faced blank expression. She offered me a retake and snap, and a turtle-necked miserable-looking photo appeared on screen. I believe she offered me another retake but my mind was far away.

I continued to make mistakes, including selecting Arabic on my screen to fill out a few more things for completion. As she handed me my card, she apologized finally for scaring me, which I appreciated and I wished her a good day. I looked at my ID card and was horrified, the person doesn’t even look like me. The bottom half of the image is stretched out, compared to my photo from 2017 it looks like I aged and let myself go from how distorted the image is from what I saw on the screen.

It was the cherry bomb on top of the 2025 battle: DMV vs. Shy Girl.

I’ve tried to remind myself that what is important is that I did it, I didn’t cry when shouted at, and I didn’t give into my anxiety and bail. I did it and persevered, the bad picture happened but it doesn’t reflect what I actually look like and no one is really going to see it. But dang, what an awful experience! I think why the new picture feels like such a jump scare is it is all my fears wrapped up into one – aging and looking ugly and fat. My culture is obsessed with thinness and beauty. Plastic surgery is becoming normalized and it is sickening how vain we all are becoming. I forgot to do my hair, I didn’t wear foundation just a little eyeliner, and I forgot to gua sha.

The picture was just me and things out of my control like getting scolded, bad lighting, and a stretched image created something without beauty, because beauty is not the goal for the DMV, it is clinical and for the process of identification. It is a stark contrast to the world of filters, good lighting, and curated perfection fed to us in this current age. Seeing that ugly image, rocked my confidence because even though I find my worth in Christ, I still live in this fallen world that equates beauty and youth with virtue and worth. So what happens when life happens and time passes? We become older, we gain weight and no longer look like the size 2 self from our teen years?

Is everything past that point worthless? I realized, as I looked at the image of my expired license and the new one that having the same picture for two renewals, warped my view of how I am aging. The younger version also was far more curated as a coping mechanism. I used to be a stickler for straightening my hair, wearing makeup, jewelry, and food restriction to be in the beauty standard to blend in, like an outer shell. Protective, candy-coated.

But the younger version of myself would have been unable to cope with a stranger yelling at me without crying and shutting down. Any picture of myself I saw as ugly, I had no confidence even at my skinniest. All the things that have happened since 2017 – loss of loved ones, getting shunned by family members, reconnecting with my dad and his family only to get hurt again, losing my place to live, having nowhere to live, and crashing in people’s guest rooms for a few weeks, moving to Georgia and back, subsequent moves out of sketchy landlord situations, my first job, my first layoff in a global pandemic, etc.

It’s been a lot and through that process, I grew character and began to unmask. So what if I don’t look the same as I did in 2017? I thought I looked ugly and fat in my 2017 ID photo and was ashamed. It’s just a photo on a driver’s license card. I like the person God has shaped me to be more now in 2024, than the person who was lost and far from God in 2017. Cheers to growth!

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