Have you ever had one of those moments where you’re lying in bed at 3 am, and suddenly everything just… makes sense? That was 2024 for me. Not in one dramatic moment (though Lord knows I love those), but in this slow, steady wave of realizations that washed over me until I finally got it.
I got it.
Finally.
And by “it,” I mean understanding that this voice in my head? The one that’s been trying to guide me all along? Yeah, she actually knows what she’s talking about.
She’s been trying to protect, guide & love me. Here’s what she’s been trying to tell me:
- Those nights when anxiety keeps you awake? That’s your soul asking for attention
- The boundaries you’re afraid to set? They’re not walls, they’re acts of self-love
- That emptiness you feel sometimes? It’s not emptiness at all – it’s space for something new
- The mess inside your head? It’s not a flaw; it’s just part of your story
- Your sensitivity? It’s not weakness, it’s your superpower
Let me back up, though. This isn’t just about learning to trust myself—it’s about unlearning all the ways I taught myself not to.
Here’s what I mean…
You know how when you’ve been living life on hard mode for so long, you start to think that’s just how life is supposed to be? That’s been me. Making every decision feel like I’m defusing a bomb. Should I take this job? tick What if I mess it up? tick What if I end up broke again? tick What if, what if, what if… BOOM
But this year? This year, something shifted.
Maybe it was all those nights spent with just me and my dog, both of us curled up on the couch, no one else’s expectations to meet, no one else’s dreams to consider. Just us. Just me. Learning what my breath sounds like when I’m truly at peace.
Can I tell you a secret?
I used to think being alone was the scariest thing that could happen to me. (Pause for laughter because… girl, really?) It turns out that being alone is actually my superpower. It’s where I found myself – not the version of me that’s carefully curated for other people’s comfort, but the real me.
The me who:
- Enjoys eating dinner alone at fancy restaurants (and doesn’t shame when I order the chicken tenders)
- Doesn’t need to fill every silence with noise
- Knows how much weed I can smoke before initiating a panic attack, and when I do actually panic, knows how to self-soothe
- Can sit with her own thoughts without drowning in them
- Knows exactly what she wants (and what she won’t tolerate)
- Is learning that peace and stillness is beautiful
My married and partnered friends sometimes look at me with a mix of envy and confusion. “How do you do it?” they ask. “Don’t you get lonely?”
Do I get lonely? Of course, I do. But I’d rather be alone than lonely with someone else pretending to be a version of myself I barely recognize.
And then there’s the rest thing. Man… the rest thing.
You want to know how stubborn I am about resting? My body literally had to stage a coup. We’re talking:
- Heart rate consistently dropping dangerously low
- Vision getting blurry
- Body demanding 17-18 hours of sleep
- Insane weight loss
- Random fainting
My body was like, “Since you won’t rest voluntarily, I’ll MAKE YOU.” And you know what? She was right. Bodies usually are when we finally shut up and listen. Thanks to my doctor and some blood and iron transfusions, I successfully survived near-organ failure and lived to see another year! And to be honest, being in a fusion center surrounded by cancer patients really broke my heart. It reminded me of the routine my mother had, and it shook me up emotionally. I leaned on my community harder than ever, and it taught me the importance of why I chose to cultivate the community I have.
Let me tell you something about therapy, too—because 15 years of it have taught me a lot, but this year taught me something different. All those sessions, all that work, and digging through the past… wasn’t just about healing. It was about learning to trust the voice that was always there, just waiting for me to listen.
You know what’s wild? I’m actually okay with not having it all figured out now. The mess, the uncertainty, the moments when I still second-guess myself—they’re all part of it—part of me. And I’m not just okay with that; I’m starting to think maybe that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
Here’s what I know for sure, though (and by “for sure,” I mean “right now at this moment because who knows what plot twist life’s got planned next”):
- My intuition isn’t just anxiety in a fancy dress
- Rest isn’t lazy, it’s essential
- Being alone isn’t the same as being lonely
- Peace doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth protecting
So here we are, on the edge of 2025, and I’m not the same person who started this year. I’m messier in some ways, clearer in others, more certain about some things, and more willing to be uncertain about others.
To everyone who’s been reading along, who’s sent messages saying, “Me too,” who’s been part of this journey—thank you. Your presence, your words, your own stories of figuring it out as you go—they’ve all helped me trust my own voice more.
Here’s to another year of learning to trust ourselves, flaws and all. Of listening to that voice inside that knows – even when we pretend it doesn’t. Of being okay with not being okay sometimes and celebrating the hell out of being okay when we are.
See you in 2025, friends. ✨
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