A Look Back at 2023

It's the end of 2024. As I reflect on this year, I realize that I never posted about 2023. So, here it is. 

Note: I wrote this in December 2023.

I last posted about 2022 (and here's 2021). I may not always share an annual blog post. I don't want to place pressure on myself to write one. I'm allowing space for myself to do so, if it feels right. 

I closed out the year wanting 2023 to be "full of peace, calm, grace, and abundance. I want to flow through the challenges that will inevitably show up. I want to be present in moments of beauty and joy."

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

My previous year's review offered a few questions to ponder. While they're good questions to ask about any chunk of time (a day, week, month, year, and so forth), the new year offers an opportunity to consider them for 2023.

What did you overcome this year?

I faced a lot of fear this year. I was strong and brave in ways that I haven't always noticed. I took chances and opened myself up in new safe spaces. 

This year, I made huge strides in changing the way I relate to myself and my emotions. 

• I'm learning how to be more aware of and better identify and express my emotions. 
• I'm learning more about what I need and want. 
• I'm learning new ways to use my voice. 
• I'm learning more about neural pathways and the relationship between my thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations. 

What brought you joy this year?

So much has brought me joy this year. I feel like I'm seeing things through clearer eyes, in some ways. Depression has loosened its grip on me, and life is brighter. 

I have a support system that has offered me safe presence, encouragement, feedback, and guidance. I love sharing space with these souls, even if it's mostly virtually. 

I have been able to spend time with people I love, in-person and virtually. I have been writing more, exploring new recipes, and taking more pictures of beauty.

What do you want next year to look like?

I want next year to be a time of growth and rest, consistency and change, depth and frivolity. I want there to be meaningful conversations, moments of joy, soulful connections. I want my days to be filled with creativity, love, and laughter. 

Questions for reflection (and sharing, if you'd like to). Feel free to adjust the timing to what feels right for you. Perhaps you want to consider these questions for a month, quarter, etc. 

• What did you overcome this year?
• What brought you joy this year?
• What do you want next year to look like?

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Letter to Myself

It's been 15 years since I was in a car accident that altered the trajectory of my life. I've written and posted about it multiple times over the years. Each time differs, as the grieving and healing processes continue. 

Note: links to previous posts about the anniversary of the car accident at the end of this post.

This year feels different. 

The past year has included a Pain Rehabilitation Center (PRC) program, Emotional Awareness and Expression Therapy (EAET) course, and attending a writing support group, all of which have provided me resources and opportunities to make important changes in my life and within myself. I will share more about these in future posts. 

Today, I want to share a letter I wrote to myself. I've written multiple different letters to myself over time. These letters offer compassion, guidance, and encouragement to myself, reminding me that I can and will make it through whatever hard thing I'm facing. They serve as a gentle guide, map, or light for me to get through the difficult times. Here is one such letter. 

My dear self,

I know you’re struggling and your heart feels heavy. Pause and take a breath. 

Feel the air come in through your nose and out through your mouth. Notice how that feels in the body. 

You are going to get through this, just as you have every hard thing before. 

Breathe. 

Rest. 

Identify and acknowledge the emotions and core beliefs that come up. 

Be gentle with yourself. 

Write. Writing helps to gain clarity and release hurt better than anything else. 

Pray. Ask God to come alongside you and provide what you need in each moment. He is faithful. 

Reach out. Jeremy is your strongest supporter in life. Allow him, and others, to be there for you. 

Use the skills and tools you’ve learned and strengthened over the years: breathing, healthy coping and distraction, and resilience. 

You are so resilient! You persevere through challenges. You are a warrior. 

Listen to music. Look for beauty. Bake a cake. Play a game. Write, write, write. 

Do these to help you feel like you again. 

Breathe and let go of what you’re able to. 

I’m so proud of you! I'm proud of you for never giving up, for doing the hard work, for always holding onto hope as well as you were able. 

Keep going, you’ve got this.

Love, Me

Photo by Jamie Valendy

I wrote this letter during the PRC program in 2022. I wrote it on October 10. That day has a history of pain and redemption, over the years.

• It was the day that I was in a car accident that changed my life. 
• It was the day that I started seeing my amazing headache specialist.
• It was the day that I wrote this letter to myself and graduated from a pain rehabilitation program. 

A lot has changed in the past 15 years. I have picked up the pieces of a shattered life, more than once, and chosen what to keep and what to let go of. I have fought battles within (and out) that few or no one knows about. I have worked hard to become the person I am, and I will continue to keep (re)building and growing. 

I've got this!

If you'd like to listen to me read this letter, you can! I was asked to share on a recent US Pain Foundation Building Your Toolbox talk about the importance of writing. Click here to listen on YouTube (https://youtu.be/AolqG1FvoUw). I read at 24:00.

If you'd like to read more, here are some links: 

• The Battle Begins
• 3-Year Anniversary of Car Accident
• 4-Year Anniversary of Car Accident
• Reflecting 12 Years Post Accident
• 13 Years Later, Now