The Year I Just Got On With It
Here’s the truth. This year didn’t come with a theme or a lesson or whatever people on Instagram like to pretend they’re harvesting from their personal growth journeys. It was simply a different kind of year.
Not bad. Not spectacular. Just a mix of progress, irritation, joy, work, travel, walking experiments, a still-unpredictable heel, and the ongoing realisation that life continues even when one of your body parts refuses to cooperate.
The heel is definitely still in the story. Some days it behaves, and I move around like a normal person. Other days, it decides stairs are a personal attack and that the simple act of walking downhill should require strategy, breathwork, and emotional preparation.
It didn’t magically resolve itself. I didn’t suddenly become healed and transformed. I just learned to work around it, which is less glamorous but far more realistic.
And somehow, while managing that, I finished my MA. Not in a poetic “artist in her studio having revelations” way. It was more the regular kind of academic chaos: deadlines, writing, trying to word things in a way that sounded coherent, and submitting work while still dealing with recovery, business, life, and everything else.
It wasn’t profound. It was simply done, and I’m pleased with that.
The book was a funny surprise. Stillness Is a Weapon came out, wandered into the world with no fanfare, and quietly became an Amazon bestseller while I was probably making tea. I missed the moment it hit number one, because of course I did, but I caught it at number six, and that was good enough for me.
The best part was people actually reading it properly and sending messages that showed they understood it. That meant more than any ranking ever could.
Work-wise, the Vault did exactly what I wanted it to do. It attracted the right people rather than the most people. No noise, no push, no circus tricks. Just collectors who know what they’re looking at and don’t need a stage to feel something.
Sit Happens also moved from “great idea” to “real, functioning programme” without me turning into a wellbeing influencer who lives on top of a Himalayan mountain. It is practical, grounded, and built for real workplaces full of real humans with stiff backs and questionable chairs.
My teaching grew, too. Not in a flashy, look-at-me way. Just in a steady, competent, very adult way, where things make more sense because I’ve lived them and taught them and adjusted them and repeated them enough times that the logic is now part of my bones.
And then there were the good bits that didn’t need to be productive. The sunshine trips. The boat days. The not-trying-too-hard photos. The palm trees. The laughing. The slightly chaotic hair moments that apparently come free with any amount of wind.
Time with Andy felt comfortable and calm and very un-Instagrammable, which is why it was good. The sense that even though the year didn’t have a singular identity, it still had a very recognisable feeling, and that feeling was something like ease meeting effort in a way that didn’t exhaust me.
My friends mattered a lot this year, too. They helped when everything felt too much, kept me sane through the heel saga, showed up when I needed perspective, and reminded me that life is easier when you’re not trying to carry every single thing by yourself.
Nothing dramatic. Just the right kind of support at the right time.
So no, this wasn’t a grand year or a symbolic one. It wasn’t a reinvention or a comeback or whatever narrative people like to pin on December.
It was simply a year that asked me to keep going, keep building, keep adjusting, keep laughing, and keep showing up, even if not in the most graceful style.
And somehow, even with all its weird pacing, it turned out well. I got stronger. I got clearer. I built things. I finished things. I celebrated things. I lived my life with someone I like. I did my work. I walked as much as my heel allowed.
And I ended the year with more good days than bad ones, which feels like a very decent return.
If next year gives me the same, with slightly less heel drama and slightly more sunshine, I’ll take it.
