Many of us have a lingering, never-shared longing that dates back to high school, when we wanted to be either the girl at the party with the dark, brooding personality, who drew in boys by dint of her unspoken torment (Bella, anybody?), or the girl who skinny-dipped, drank whiskey and tipped cows at midnight. Nowadays, we decide, officially, to be more enigmatic! Or more exciting! Or less shy. Or less loud. Or sweeter. But slapping an adjective on your future is the quickest way to ruin it. You are who you are. You can't change your personality with the calendar.
Resolve to climb a mountain or eat more nachos—to have some fun instead of worrying about being fun. And forget about mystery. Adult mysteries tend not to be that alluring (some examples: "Why didn't you show up for work?" "Where did all the money in our savings account go?" "Why did you never tell me about your homicidal ex?"). If you're thinking that a more wistful you, a more sphinxlike you, a more cheerleady you would bring more folks into your life, you might find it easier to test-drive the world's least appreciated magic trick: smiling at people.