As the new year settles in, there’s often a quiet pressure to move forward quickly.
New goals.
New routines.
New expectations of who we should be now.
But before we rush into plans and resolutions, I want to invite you to pause – just for a moment.
Because the year we’ve just lived didn’t simply pass by.
It mattered.
All of it.
Imagine yourself at the end of this year.
You’re sitting quietly, maybe by a window, holding a warm cup of tea. There’s less urgency in your body than there used to be. Your shoulders aren’t quite so tense. You’re not rushing to fix or prove anything.
As you reflect, you realize something important:
You didn’t get here by pushing harder. You didn’t force clarity before it was ready. You didn’t reinvent yourself overnight.
Instead, you slowly learned to listen. You protected your energy more carefully. You became more intentional about where you said yes – and where you didn’t.
You allowed your life to fit you, rather than bending yourself to fit everything else.
Reflection question:
Where did you listen to yourself more this past year than you ever had before?
For many of us, the past year wasn’t easy. It stretched us in ways we didn’t anticipate. It asked us to adapt, to let go, and sometimes to grieve.
One of the deepest lessons I’ve learned – especially through love, loss, and grief – is this:
Grief and growth are not opposites. They are companions.
Loss has a way of clarifying what truly matters. It softens what no longer does. It reminds us that time, connection, and presence are far more valuable than perfection or productivity.
If you experienced loss this past year – of a loved one, a role, a dream, or even a version of yourself – you didn’t “fall behind.”
You were living.
Reflection question:
What did this year teach you about what truly matters most to you now?
Instead of asking the familiar January questions – What should I change? What should I fix? What should I achieve? – consider asking something gentler and far more meaningful:
What would my future self want me to know right now?
When I asked myself that question, the answer wasn’t dramatic or overwhelming. It was simple, compassionate, and clear:
Trust yourself sooner. Say no without explanation. And don’t wait so long to choose joy.
Those words didn’t feel like pressure. They felt like permission.
Reflection question:
If your future self could give you one piece of advice today, what might she say?
Here’s a quiet exercise you can try – no resolutions required.
Take a few minutes to imagine yourself one year from now. Picture how you feel in your body. Notice what feels lighter. Then write a short note from that future version of you to the woman you are today.
You might begin with:
“Dear Me, here’s what I want you to remember…”
You don’t need to write pages. Often, a single sentence holds exactly what we need.
To make this reflection easier, I created a gentle “Dear Future Me” worksheet that guides you through the process step by step. It’s designed to help you slow down, listen inward, and reconnect with your own wisdom – something we often neglect as women.
You can return to this worksheet any time during the year, especially when you feel uncertain or overwhelmed.
Reflection question:
What would it feel like to trust your inner voice just a little more this year?
As we move into this new year, it’s important to remember this:
We don’t step forward by erasing what shaped us.
We move forward by carrying its wisdom with us.
The lessons, the losses, the laughter, and even the moments that didn’t make sense at the time – they all contributed to who you are now.
So instead of asking yourself to become someone new this year, consider something softer:
Because this year mattered.
All of it.
And so do you.
As you move through the coming weeks, you might return to these questions:
What am I ready to stop rushing? What feels meaningful to me now, in this season of life? What small step would my future self thank me for taking?
You don’t need all the answers today.
Sometimes, the most powerful way to begin a new year is by honoring the one that came before it – with compassion, honesty, and grace.
Please leave a comment with your reflection questions and how you see this year unfolding for you.
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Some serious food for thought questions for ourselves here. Ive already written some words of wisdom from my future self and I found it interesting the words of wisdom that I wrote.
Im going to redo it though from my future self just one year from now. Its easier than going too far in advance.
My life has been one battle after another & ive learned that life is just like that for some of us.
I particularly liked the sentence “dont wait too long to find joy”. That hit hard, if not now, when?
Tessa-
Thank you for sharing this so honestly. I love that you noticed the wisdom that surfaced when you wrote from your future self—and that you’re choosing a one-year lens that feels more compassionate and doable.
You’re right: for some of us, life has truly been one battle after another. Naming that reality matters. And that line—“don’t wait too long to find joy”—hit me hard too. As you said so perfectly… if not now, when?
Thank you for being part of this conversation.
Elli-
Thank you so much for reading and for sharing this perspective—I really appreciate how thoughtfully you engaged with the questions.
I agree with you completely: practical exercises matter. That’s exactly why I’m such a believer in keeping this kind of reflection grounded in the here and now. A one-year future self feels tangible, realistic, and compassionate—especially as we become more aware of how precious and unpredictable time can be.
I also love your point about making this an annual practice. Revisiting these questions year after year allows us to notice how we’ve grown, what’s shifted, and what still matters—without the pressure of far-off timelines that may feel disconnected from real life.
Thank you again for your honesty and insight. It adds so much depth to the conversation, and I’m grateful you took the time to share it.
Good article. I found the questions posed in the article practical. Writing a letter from my future self to the woman I am today (using the one year span as my future self) is useful as it is the here and now, rather than 10 years from now. Some of us may Not make it to ten years from now depending on how health and our age.
My husband died in May of 2025, on my birthday. I am trying to make sense of it and to be able to move forward. I feel lucky that he loved r so deeply as I did him. That we had 42 years together and that we both grew and learned about trust especially.
Ohhhh, Georgia. Thank you so much for sharing this, and I’m truly sorry for your loss—especially with your husband passing on your birthday. That’s a date that now carries so much weight, and it makes complete sense that you’re still trying to make sense of it all.
What stands out so beautifully in your words is the depth of love you and your husband shared. Forty-two years together, growing and learning—especially about trust—is a remarkable legacy. That kind of love doesn’t end; it continues to shape who you are and how you move through the world.
Moving forward doesn’t mean leaving him behind. It means carrying that love with you, at your own pace, in your own way.
Thank you for trusting this space with something so personal. I’m holding you in care as you continue to navigate this journey, and I hope 2026 brings moments of gentleness, meaning, and peace alongside your remembering.
I LOVE your honesty and fortrightness, is that a word.
Im 68 spent it being a critical care flight nitse raising my 2 children keeping a homestead running efficiently. With the new year my reflection is full of loss but also renewal. I learn something usefull and fulfilling every day. I pick my battles more carefully and am working on releasing the pre retirement fantasy of what my retirement
SHOULD have been. Sacrifices that were made have made me more resilient, more intentional, more aware of THIS version of reality. I greet each day with a fresh curiosity i could not have had without my experiences in the past and wisdom gained.
Happy New year!
Anita-
Thank you so much for reading and for sharing this—your honesty and forthrightness (yes, that is the word 😊) truly moved me.
I’m deeply impressed by the way you’ve chosen to live your life: serving others in such a demanding role, raising your children, and tending a home with care and intention—all while continuing to grow and reflect. That takes resilience, courage, and heart.
I love how you name both the loss and the renewal, and how you’re releasing the “should-have-been” version of retirement to honor the reality you’re living now. The wisdom you’ve gained—and the curiosity you greet each day with—are powerful gifts.
Thank you again for taking the time to read and respond. Wishing you a meaningful, gentle, and fulfilling 2026—one filled with continued learning, intention, and peace.
Anita I had to reply to your post, inparticular about ‘ working on releasing the fantasy of what your retirement should have been’. How I resonate with that. Its comforting to know, somewhere in the world there are others like myself whose thoughts about retirement in their future years didnt come to fruition. Your post made me realise, yes it was a fantasy, but ive still got choices. Thank you for your post!🕊