New beginnings & false starts
When the year already feels like it's snowballing, what should you do?
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I love the start of a new year. Always have.
To me it feels like a blank page in a notebook ready to be filled with the scribbles and secrets of a life yet to unfold. It signals an opportunity for new beginnings and a clean slate—if you need one. For many of us, we’re able to use the new year as a chance to toss out the regrets, worries, disappointments, unmet expectations and frustrations from the past year and look forward without glancing back.
And as your classic type A, the new year has also always provided me with the perfect excuse for a good goal-setting session. While over the years the form this has taken has morphed somewhat—becoming far less rigid and more fluid as I’ve gotten older—for me it’s less about the desire to ‘tick off’ tasks on a list and more about putting my aspirations on paper so that they feel less nebulous.
But I have to admit, this new year has felt deeply challenging. Aside from juggling a packed December schedule, family dynamics and interstate travel—I’ve also found myself deep in the thick of sickness. And almost two weeks into January, I’m still feeling rubbish and struggling to find the space—both physically and mentally—to reflect on the year that was and turn my attention to the path ahead of me.
For so long I’ve felt like 2024 was going to be ‘the year’. Not in terms of reaching any specific destination or life landmark—more a year where I would finally have the capacity to think more about myself. Even admitting this out loud feels narcissistic. But the reality is, for the best part of four years I’ve surrendered to my role as ‘Mum’ and willingly pressed pause on the parts of myself that have felt too difficult to unravel whilst juggling life with small children.
But in my gut I knew this year could feel different. I have slowly been putting my ducks in a row in terms of navigating childcare for both of our children and dropping hints to my network of contacts that maybe, just maybe I might be able to pick up some chunkier pieces of work. And for weeks I’ve been looking forward to the turn of the new year with an excitement akin to a child waiting for Christmas.
The dialogue that’s been running on a loop in my mind for months has very much taken the tone of: as soon as I get through December I’ll be able to x, y, z… as soon as both kids are at daycare I’ll have more time to x, y, z… or as soon as [insert momentous life-changing event here] I’ll be able to x, y, z…
But once again, life has made other plans. I’m more exhausted than I’ve felt in months, I’m frustrated that once again I’m dealing with a sickness that seems to never end and I’m disappointed that more of my ‘summer holiday’ was spent taking our kids to emergency departments than the beach. Honestly, it all just feels too heavy for January.
Still, I’m feeling strangely optimistic.
If the last few years have taught me anything, it’s that I’m far more resilient than I ever thought was possible—so despite feeling like I’ve had a false start to 2024, I’m choosing to reframe my disappointment as just one more lesson in surrender. It’s certainly not lofty, it doesn’t feel particularly aspirational, but perhaps learning to surrender is the only goal I need to focus on this year.
Hang in there lovely Ash! You got this.
I resonating with your feelings of surrendering. That is my word for this year as well! X