I began the year with a Whatever happens, happens attitude. It was an attempt to care less, to nonchalantly accept whatever happened (or didn’t) during the year.

Nothing has ever come easily for me. I’ve always had to fight for what I wanted, and I’d wearied of fighting and losing every battle. So this year of laying down the proverbial boxing gloves, of letting life happen to me was both a relief and a disappointment.

When you quit fighting, you risk losing. You find out what and who matters most to you and vice-versa.

I gave up fighting for fragile friendships. I gave up fighting for a faith that had more questions than answers. I gave up fighting for a dream that had become more of a nightmare. I gave up fighting to give grace to people who tried to trample me like a doormat. I gave up fighting to be heard and seen and known because begging is self-degrading. I gave up fighting to believe that age 40 wasn’t too old to change.

I have learned how to expect less of myself and others and how to take life as it comes. After a lifetime of fighting and struggling to survive life, it’s been a relief to rest and say, “Whatever.”

However, in the process of learning how to accept life as it happens, I’ve lost as much I’ve gained: friends, faith, dreams, grace, just to name a few.

In the end, I’ve realized I most certainly still care. I care about dreams coming true and cycles being broken and walls being torn down. I care about hope and grace and restoration.

Maybe it’s time to get back in the fight, but only for myself — not in a pushy, aggressive, me-first kind of way, but in a put-on-my-oxygen-mask-first-to-save-myself-before-trying-to-save-someone-else kind of way.