A Retinue Of Ravishing 2015 Resolutions

Credit: Thinkstock

Credit: Thinkstock

Life is a do-over. Verily, a lot of irony-laced invective is heaved at holiday earnestness and the futile conformity of the “new years resolution.” We live in an age where building character is not necessary for building a social media following; it’s “enlightened” to be detached, to shrug off the notion of bettering yourself, like some vexatious Randian heroine.

But to believe you can’t better yourself—or that you shouldn’t try—is to forfeit all hope that the world can be better. That sort of cynicism only benefits the privileged, or rather, the weaponized privileged, those who lurk after dark on social media to tell women nothing can “unrape them” and that some centuries ago, people of color enslaved each other, which is why they deserve the perpetual besiegement on their bodily sovereignty by a militarized police. If the world stays unable to change, they won’t have to, either.

We at Ravishly want to make the world a better place. This starts with making ourselves better—as individuals and as a team.

How do we do this, with our resources and varied skills and perspectives?

If not the answer, then “build a community” is at the very least the extra credit.

2014 was a shitshow for marginalized folk all over, but they were able to push through via the formation and support of strong communities.

This year we confronted rapists, reported on hate movements, shadowed marches against police brutality, and gave a platform for a lot of men and women to speak who would otherwise have no space. We celebrated the victories of women all over the world, no matter how seemingly small to the mainstream. We cultivated confessions, including at least one letter from someone shitting a one-night-stand’s bed.

We were able to do all this because we had community. With each other. With our readers.

Earnestness can yet be daring. Holding ourselves accountable can be empowering. Even if we can’t change the world into a better place in 2015, we can change ourselves—we can change our communities. And those little victories add up.

We will punch the “Buy 10, get 1 Free” frozen yogurt discount card of patriarchy.

To help ourselves be a better team made up of better people, we’re sharing our new year’s resolutions with each other, and with you.

You can share yours in the comments. Or your hangover cures would also be fine.

Jetta Rae DoubleCakes

1. Go for the long con. I went into 2014 a code monkey riding a private shuttle and ended it running for my life from rubber bullets. A lot of love was burned off in the leveling up—I lost people. My heart has been a bad place to live and a worst place to visit. This year I will embark on Glorious 1 Year Beautification Project.

2. Get on the ground. Being afforded such intimate space in people’s lives has been the most precious pleasure of this sea change. I want to be Ravishly’s ambassador to the tofuspace. This year I’ll be visiting Toronto, Austin, Atlanta, and Japan. Host a demolition derby in your city and I’ll come cook you breakfast.

3. Write a fucking album. Stop shuffling from instrument to instrument, genre to genre in hopes of “finding yourself.” Just make music. Even if it’s just the metal musical about Princess Peach.

Giana Ciapponi

1. Stop snapping. Express my frustrations eloquently.


2. Get healthier, both mentally and physically.


3. Squash cynicism—especially in romantic realm.

Nikki Gloudeman

1. Learn to cook. This involves me actually using one of the millions of cookbooks my friends and family have given me over the years, as a result of me continuously announcing my renewed commitment to learning how to cook.

Corollary resolution: Don't feel too bad if, once again, I don't make this resolution happen, despite convincing my friends and family that THIS TIME IT'S FOR REAL.

2. Stop being so passive aggressive. This one will be challenging, but I hereby assert—not passively—my dedication to being direct and forthright about concerns I harbor.

3. Run a half marathon. Shit, my list is getting scarier and scarier. I do, though, feel confident that if I apply myself, I can make this happen. (A full marathon, though? Dream on, self. Dream on.)

Jody Amable

1. Step away from first-person for a little while and get back to my journalistic roots. Publish something investigative (or at least a really juicy profile).

2. Stop allowing myself to wear sweats all day. I just have this strange feeling wearing actual clothes will have a positive effect on my writing.

3. Wear more red lipstick and encourage others to do the same.

Katie Tandy

1. Stop making myself and my relative hedonism my raison d'être. Start volunteering on a regular basis.

2. Take better care of myself—stop compulsively over-planning and burning the proverbial candle from both ends. Get more sleep. Drink less.

3. Work on my memoir again, maybe sign up for a class so I ensure I knock out 20 pages a month or something.

Flora Tsapovsky

1. Consume more European culture—British TV, Spanish films, French books. I used to be on top of it but have lately neglected Europe for pop-culture related websites for work. It's time to come back!

2. Skip the ongoing spending on cheap thrills and save for pricier, classier items for life. I guess it’s an age thing!

3. Be less judgmental and critical of loved ones and myself. I struggle with this resolution every year—maybe, 2015 will be the year.

4. Finally learn how to ice skate! It's now or never.

Meredith Winner

1. Make more art.

2. Do more yoga.

3. Work even harder.

4. Be even happier (this means more time for me, being a little more selfish, taking that extra 10 minutes, focusing on the positive, and knowing my triggers to decrease my anxiety—this may require letting go of some toxic relationships, which have proven to repeatedly bring me down).

Kelley Calkins

1. Reduce the number of self-effacing comments I make by at least 3% (which translates to ~23 a day).

2. Recognize the harassment and abuses I've faced and accept it all for what it is: abuse. Continue to work toward accepting that I did and do not deserve it—nor that I played a role in causing it.

2a. Write about this.

3. Be more consistent in showing up for the people I care about and letting them show up for me when I need it—which far more often than I ever let on.

3a. Let people know when I need them to show up for me.

4. Reject the company of those who fail to treat me with the respect I deserve. Spend that time reading, doing yoga, eating frozen desserts, or dancing on a bar top to "Return of the Mack" instead.

5. Step up my Snapchat game. Like a lot.

If you like this article, please share it! Your clicks keep us alive!