Seven Things That Truly Supported Me This Year

(and why I’m sharing them with you). I’ve found myself reflecting less on what I achieved and more on what actually supported me.

Seven Things That Truly Supported Me This Year

(and why I’m sharing them with you)

As the year draws to a close, I’ve found myself reflecting less on what I achieved and more on what actually supported me.

Not the things that looked good from the outside.
Not the productivity hacks or shiny moments.
But the quieter supports that helped me stay connected to myself while navigating my own mother wounds through grief, growth, healing, and visibility, especially as I have levelled up this year writing my book and starting to speak on stages.

I’m sharing these not as advice, but as lived reflections. My hope is that something here might resonate or help you feel a little less alone in your own process.

1. Healing in community

One of the most important things I’ve been reminded of this year is that healing does not happen in isolation.

For a long time, many of us learned to cope alone. To process quietly. To carry things privately. But being witnessed by others who understand, without judgement or pressure, has been deeply regulating for me.

Community doesn’t fix things.
But it softens the edges and lets you know you are not alone.
It reminds you that your experience is real, shared, and survivable.

Healing in community has helped me remember that I don’t have to hold everything by myself.

2. Finding your people, not just any people

Not everyone needs to understand you. This has been a big lesson.

Finding my tribe, the people who speak the same emotional language, who understand nuance, complexity, and slowness, has been far more important than being widely liked or understood.

Belonging doesn’t come from fitting in.
It comes from being recognised.

When you’re with the right people, you don’t have to over-explain or shrink yourself. You’re allowed to be exactly where you are.

3. Remembering that we’re all figuring it out

This year has gently dismantled the idea that anyone truly has it all sorted.

Even the people who look confident, established, or grounded are still navigating uncertainty, fear, and change. Letting go of the belief that I should be “further along” or “more together” has been quietly freeing.

We are all, in our own ways, figuring it out as we go.

That reminder has softened my self-judgement and allowed more compassion in.

4. Noticing where Fear, Obligation and Guilt still show up

FOG, fear, obligation and guilt, has been a significant theme for me this year, not because it suddenly appeared, but because I became more aware of how subtly it still operates.

FOG doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes it whispers.

It shows up in hesitation.
In over explaining.
In the urge to keep the peace at personal cost.
In holding back from growth because of imagined consequences.

What helped wasn’t trying to eliminate FOG but learning to notice it with compassion and ask different questions. Is this choice coming from fear, obligation or guilt, or from clarity and self-trust?

If this resonates for you, I’ve created a gentle FOG quiz to help you explore how these patterns might be shaping your choices. It’s not about labelling or fixing, just understanding. You can find the link [here].

Awareness alone can be a powerful first step.

5. Journaling as a way of listening to myself

Journaling has been one of the most consistent supports this year, not in a polished, aesthetic way, but in a real one.

Sometimes it’s writing.
Sometimes it’s voice notes.
Sometimes it’s mind maps or messy lists.

Getting my thoughts out of my head and into the world has helped me hear what I actually feel, rather than what I think I should feel.

Journaling has become less about answers and more about listening. A way of staying in relationship with myself and one I have shared in my book and Roses membership..

6. Writing my book as a way of holding grief and pain

Writing my book has been more than a professional milestone. It’s been a way of looking back and consolidating my own grief, pain, and lived experience with care.

Putting words to what I’ve lived through helped me make sense of it, not to tie it up neatly, but to acknowledge it honestly. Writing allowed me to stay with the complexity without rushing to resolution.

Sometimes meaning doesn’t come from moving on.
It comes from staying present, noticing the subtlety and nuance.

7. Moving at a pace that feels safe

Perhaps the most important support of all has been allowing myself to move at a pace that feels safe and regulating to my nervous system.

This year reminded me that depth sometimes requires slowness. That sustainable work, healing, and visibility can’t be forced. Protecting my energy, boundaries, and nervous system has supported not only my wellbeing, but the integrity of my work.

Slowness is not a failure.
It’s often a sign of wisdom.

A closing reflection

As you reflect on your own year, you might like to ask yourself:

What genuinely supported me this year, not what I think should have?

And if fear, obligation or guilt have been shaping your choices more than you’d like, you’re not alone. Understanding those patterns with compassion can open up new possibilities.

If you’d like support exploring this, my FOG quiz is available [here], as a gentle place to begin.

And I’d love to know, what has supported you this year?
Your reflections might be exactly what someone else needs to read.

Categories: : Healing