A Year of Messy Growth, Curveballs and New Beginnings
If the recent years of my life had names, 2019 would have been Unravelling. 2020 was WTF Am I Doing. 2021 was Transition. I thought 2022 would be Transformation, but instead, it became the year I found Home. The whirlwind of 2023 turned out to be Transformation—just not the kind I expected.
But here’s the thing: I didn’t write reflections for 2022 or 2023. And now, as 2024 comes to a close, I can’t help but wonder—what would I have shared about those years? What lessons and magic did I miss uncovering by not putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard)? This bittersweet mix of regret and curiosity has strengthened my resolve: I will never let another year slip by unwritten.
So here I am, ready to name this year: Messy Growth.
2024 has been a year of curveballs, resilience, and unexpected endings + new beginnings—a story that deserves to be told.
The Beautiful Mess That Was 2024
2024 has been a wild, messy, beautifully chaotic dance—the kind where you’re tripping over your own feet but still showing up, still moving. It started in January with a weekend escape to Ireland, spending time with Canadian friends who felt like home. For a moment, life felt expansive, full of possibility which carried me to March, where I stepped into a costume ball as Lady of Fire, a character of my own creation, and embracing a part of myself I’d almost forgotten.
But that same month, life got real. Work shifted—fewer hours, tighter finances—and things weren’t falling into place the way I’d hoped. By June, my on-again, off-again relationship of two years hit its final stop—abruptly, without closure or explanation. It hurt, but more than that, it left me reeling, trying to make sense of something that didn’t make sense.
That confusion collided with a tidal wave of self-doubt, dragging up feelings of not being enough. I had done everything differently this time—put in the work, shown up as my best self—and yet it still ended. The combined weight of the breakup, work struggles, and doubts about my future was too much to carry.
Amidst the chaos, a brief bu bright spot appeared in June: Being part of the Discover Your Flare Summer Festival at Summerhall in Edinburgh. For a moment, I felt the spark of connection again, sharing my love for movement with others. It reminded me why I loved teaching, even as so much else felt uncertain.
Still, the weight of everything around me was undeniable. I made the hard call to stop my online movement classes after four years. These classes had been my constant since 2020, an anchor in a world that felt like it was always shifting. Letting them go felt like losing a piece of myself, leaving me adrift and unsure of who I was without that structure holding me up.
July and August blurred into a haze of grief and exhaustion. I wrestled with feelings of “not enough”—not good enough, not strong enough, not worthy enough. But even in the heaviness, something was stirring, quiet but persistent.
As the leaves turned, so did I. In October, I returned to Canada, surrounding myself with family and friends who didn’t just see me—they held me. Their love reminded me I’m never truly alone, even in my messiest moments, and helped nourish me back to life.
By November, I felt a spark reignite. The flame to finish my second novel, Everlasting, returned, and I set a release date: March 21, 2025.
And here I am, December, wrapping up the year in a place of renewed energy. I’ve found not only a new sanctuary to call home but also a rekindled passion for teaching.
Returning to the mats—teaching Pilates and yoga at Tidal Yoga in Edinburgh—feels like coming home to myself. There’s something profoundly grounding about guiding others through movement, helping them connect with their bodies while rediscovering that connection in my own.
The year may not have been elegant, but it was profoundly human. It reminded me that even in chaos and uncertainty, there are moments of beauty, resilience, and rediscovery. Full-circle moments like these remind me that no matter how messy it gets, rebuilding from chaos can create something beautiful.
Looking Ahead Without Resolutions
Let’s be honest: the shiny new planners and crisp journals practically dare us to reinvent ourselves every January. And while I’ve not been a “resolutions” person for about a decade, I can’t help but feel the gentle pull of reflection as the year ends.
Instead of grand declarations, I retreat into introspection, sifting through the lessons of the past year and shaping intentions for the next. For 2025, I’m leaning into:
- Monthly Musings: Sharing heartfelt reflections, updates, and ideas more regularly. If you’d like to join me on this journey, consider subscribing to my newsletter. I promise it will feel like a cozy chat over tea—warm, real, and sometimes a little messy.
- Closing Open Loops: You know those unfinished projects and dangling to-dos that quietly buzz in the background of your life? Yeah, me too. This year, I’m committing to either tying them up or letting them go with grace.
- Reclaiming Being: Somewhere along the way, I shifted from a human BEing to a human DOing, caught in the endless loop of creating, strategizing, and striving for results that never fully arrived. Turning the page of this next chapter, I’m writing gentler words, more loving, and space to pause—ask what truly nourishes me, what aligns with my values, and how I can move forward with more grace and less grind. It’s about making space for presence over productivity and trusting that meaningful outcomes will follow. Call me optimystic 😉
Belonging and Connection
Let’s talk about belonging. Not the kind that’s tied to following rules or checking boxes to fit in—but the deep, soulful kind. The kind that wraps you up in a warm embrace and whispers, “You’re home.”
This year, I’ve been feeling the pull to create spaces where we can just be. No masks, no pretenses, no trying to be someone we’re not. Because, let’s be real, the world doesn’t need another highlight reel. It needs places where we can show up as our messy, magical, perfectly imperfect selves and know we’ll still be loved.
For me, belonging isn’t about earning your place—it’s about (re)claiming it. It’s about gathering with people who see your cracks and call them beautiful. It’s about unlearning the hustle and embracing the stillness. It’s about creating a space to grow, rest, and unapologetically reclaim every part of who you are.
I don’t have all the answers yet, but the energy behind this idea feels electric, alive, like it’s ready to be nurtured into something real. Stay tuned—this might just be the beginning of something beautiful, something that invites all of us to belong exactly as we are. 🌟
A Ritual for Transition
This isn’t about resolutions or big shiny goals—it’s about honoring where you are, as you are, and choosing to step into the next chapter with intention. This ritual is your invitation to pause, reflect, and connect with the cycles of your life, just as nature does.
- Drop Into Your Body: Place one hand on your heart and the other on your belly. Close your eyes and breathe deeply, feeling the rise and fall of your body. Let the breath anchor you in this moment. Whisper a quiet “thank you” to yourself—for showing up, for surviving, for still being here.
- Claim Your Wins, Big or Small: Look back at the year. Maybe you achieved something epic, or maybe you just made it through another day when it felt impossible. Both count. Write down one or two moments that feel like triumphs, even if they’re tiny. They matter because you matter.
- Let Go of What’s Heavy: What’s weighing you down? What’s clinging to you that no longer serves the person you’re becoming? Then burn it 🔥, bury it 🌿, or tear it up with your hands. Release it to the earth, the fire, or the wind, and let the energy move.
- Set Your Intention: Instead of a list of resolutions, ask yourself: How do I want to feel in this next cycle? Choose one word, feeling, or value that lights you up. Let it become your guide, your compass, as you walk into the unknown.
- Seal the Practice: Take a deep breath, place your hands in prayer at your heart, and give yourself permission to begin again, just as you are.
That’s All She Wrote (For This Year, at Least 😉)
Here’s what 2024 taught me: growth isn’t always tidy. It’s not all glitter and breakthroughs—it’s messy, humbling, and sometimes a little uncomfortable. This year was full of moments that made me question my worth, brought tears to the surface, and asked me to confront parts of myself I’d rather avoid. But even in those moments, something felt different.
Unlike the chaos of 2019, 2024 held a quieter kind of strength. When things got hard, I leaned into the people who remind me I’m never alone, into faith that there’s something bigger at play, and into the optimism that even the messiest moments are part of a bigger story. I’ve come to call this perspective optimystic—the belief that even when things feel unclear, there’s magic working behind the scenes, weaving something meaningful. Or something like that, to be honest, I’ve not got it all figured out.
Growth doesn’t come from having it all figured out; it comes from showing up, trusting the process, and letting the messy, imperfect moments shape you. It’s in those moments that we find grace, and maybe even a little magic.
So, here’s to stepping into the unknown. To embracing the curveballs, the unexpected, and the beautiful chaos of it all. Let’s walk forward with curiosity, grace, and wide-open hearts, knowing that the best stories—the ones that transform us—unfold when we let go of control and trust in what’s ahead.
And if you’re still figuring it all out (because same), here’s a reminder: you don’t need all the answers to keep going. Just keep showing up. Keep believing. Keep leaning into the magic. That’s where it all begins.
