You know the ones.
The “new year, new me”, “this is my year”, “I’ve reflected, journaled, and suddenly have my life together” kind of posts.
So yes… this is another one of those New Year posts.
But also… it really isn’t.
Because if I’m being completely honest, 2025 was a bit rubbish in more ways than I wish to care for!
And I don’t mean the “oh, it was busy, but we got through it” kind of rubbish. I mean the kind where you discover friends you thought were your ride or dies have disappeared, and you are forced to cut out family for your own mental health. The kind where you have cried far more than you ever thought you would, and slowly realise you’ve let yourself go in just about every way possible, physically, mentally, emotionally… all of it.
I’ve shown up for everyone else while quietly running on empty. I’ve survived rather than lived, and barely at that. There have been nights when I have lain in bed not wanting to go to sleep purely because I couldn't face waking up for another morning. And if there was an award for holding it together on the outside while falling apart internally, I’d have at least been shortlisted.
Recently, I read a quote that stopped me in my tracks. It said something along the lines of "I have sat at tables I should never have even pulled a chair out for," and honestly, I felt that in my bones.
It reminded me of something I keep forgetting:
It’s actually okay to focus on myself sometimes.
I don’t always have to make everyone else happy at my own detriment.
Wild concept, I know, because I know so many of you will feel the same way as me!
So… moving forward into 2026