I never know whether to celebrate a year or to say that it was shitty. I suppose that has to do with whatever emotional pair of lenses I’ve pulled on at that moment.

In some ways, I’m no different than when I last blew out a set of candles some 370+ days ago. In many more ways, I’ve evolved. I forget this sometimes, especially when caught in the daily rigmarole of trying to pay bills, eat vegetables and reduce screen time.

I’d say the biggest revelation has been this: I have no fucking clue what I want in life.

That knowledge came courtesy of a fateful coffee with my ex-girlfriend in NYC. She’s always been one to not pull punches on calling out my shit. She threw the words “it sounds you need to figure out what you want” at me with the deftness of a Jorge Masvidal flying knee. And, like poor Ben Askren, I found myself quickly falling to the canvas of truth, with little cartoon birdies circling my brain.

Truth comes at you fast.

The truth was so blunt in that moment, I had no other choice but to acknowledge it. And the response wasn’t to lament in it completely (though there was a brief period of mourning, looking back at all the times I said ‘no’ to what I actually wanted), but to pull myself up and ask “okay, fuck – what do I actually want?”

As it turns out, that’s a pretty damn hard question to answer. I realized that I’ve often said yes to things because they were ‘the right thing’ or ‘for the greater good’, instead of what I actually wanted. It was the reason why I’d spent lengthy periods  in unhappy relationships or jobs, even though a quiet little voice inside had been saying that time was up. My ‘Following Your Desires’ playbook had been completely replaced with all of these trick plays for fulfilling false needs.

Often, we live life in response to expectations or actions that are out of our control. In those moments, we turn over control of our own lives to whatever it is that is grasping our attention. A lot of it has to do with fear – if we aren’t able to wrestle external circumstances into submission, they might eat us alive. Or so we think.

So for the last few months, I’ve been working on my desire muscles. It takes lot of patience. As much as I would have loved to push weight like Arnie at Muscle Beach, I knew I would have to start with those baby dumbbells that used to grace Jazzercise videos in the 80s.

What do I want for breakfast? “I know *I should* eat that yogurt in the fridge, but I reallllly want a smoothie”

How do I want to workout?“Running is free and it burns calories….but fuck, I reallllly want to swing a kettlebell.”

Do I want to answer that client email right this second?“Doing so would make my life easier…..but hot damn, I realllllywant to finish reading this article first.”

Surprisingly (maybe shockingly), the more that I listened to what I wanted, I found myself more able to say no to the things I didn’t want. Like spending more than two days in New York City a week (it’s the exact way you remember it, just with more salad shops), going back to jiu-jitsu (as much as practicing rear naked chokes was fun) or watching obscure romantic comedies (because…every film on The Hallmark Channel is the exact same).

But of course, once you plow through the smaller decisions, the bigger ones await. These are the riskier decisions. Again, you fellow gymheads can relate – pushing the big weight can be intimidating.

That’s how I found myself staring at a beautiful road bike some 20 days ago.

A few days before, I’d resolved to exploring more of what tickled my curiosity. Road biking immediately came to mind – I’d been lustfully eyeing Saturday morning cyclists and fantasized about triathlons for years. Once, I had come achingly close to getting I bike I wanted…but I was too afraid to pull the trigger.

Now, I found exactly what I wanted. Shimano 105 shifters. Disc brakes. 11 gears. Well, almost everything; it also came with a $1500 price tag that I wasn’t thrilled with.

Fear set in. This wasn’t a ridiculous amount of money, but it felt frivolous when I have bills to pay, a possible medical procedure coming up and a history of not being Mr. Austerity. Not to mention there are practical accoutrements, like a helmet, chain and things that make butts not-so-sore after long rides.

I immediately tried to rationalize other, less expensive bikes. “Well, I mean you can’t really tell the difference in how the gears shift” (Bullshit). “Like the man said, I’ll have more money to buy a helmet and shoes” (Also, bullshit).

But, as the parentheses state, I knew that it was all fucking bullshit. I was afraid. I was afraid of having what I wanted. I was afraid that if I didn’t play it safe, I would be hurt. And because of that ill reasoning, I was selling myself short, all for the sake of $200 dollars. It was like I was trying to be the Judas to my heart, betraying it for a bag of shekels.

Was I going to let fear take away what I had worked on for those last few months? Was I going to keep playing it safe when, clearly, all the best things in life had come from taking grandiose leaps?

It was time to stop handing over myself to fear and make an investment in myself and the things I love. With the encouragement of my lovely partner Kyra¹, I swallowed my hesitation and said ‘fuck yes.’

And you know what? I fucking love that bike. It gives me a smile everything I see it hanging on the rack. Rides have become adventures. Without realizing it, I’ve found myself reading various periodicals, figuring out ways to take the best care of it and to build up my strength, two things that I haven’t done for any other hobbies or needs in a long time. And I’ve learned a load of valuable lessons, like humility, patience and the value of always listening to your local bike shop bro.²

Reading this now, I realize that I lied a little at the beginning of this story: I have no fucking clue what I want.

The truth is: I have some fucking clue what I want, and I say yes to it sometimes, even when I’m a little scared shitless.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll I know exactly what I want – and go after it with everything I have.

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¹Kyra is someone who knows a whole fuckload about following desires. She also happens to be steadfast in encouraging me to be my best self. Much gratitude and love, querida.

²More specifically, Billy at Overlook Bicycles in Woodstock, NY. The man knows his shit and will walk you through everything you’ll ever need to know about a bike, with nothing but compassion and chill-bro humor.