Happy New Year! I can still say that, right? I reckon any time in January is fair game.
The beginning of a new year is an interesting vantage point to look back on the previous one. When you’re “in” the year, in the thick of whatever’s going on in your life, the days and weeks and months can feel like a sort of continuum, for better or for worse. But then you get to the end of December, or the beginning of January, and suddenly the last 12 months become something more distinct; a discrete entity; a chapter, or a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end.
So now I’m reflecting on my last chapter, on the story of my 2024, and I’m surprised by how much stepping outside the narrative has altered my perspective on the year as a whole – and also given me some valuable life learnings. I thought I’d share.
A game of two halves
For me, 2024 was very much a year of two halves. The first part was one of the most emotionally challenging periods of my life; the second was among the most joyful. I started out feeling like I might never be properly happy again, and I don’t remember a time when I’ve been happier than I have in the last few months. I’ve both cried more and laughed more than in any other year in memory.
A stand-out feature is the amount of travel I was lucky enough to squeeze in, almost all of which was to spend time with my nearest and dearest. As a result, in 2024 I got to make memories with the vast majority of the people I love – a major achievement/blessing, considering my family and friends are scattered so widely across the globe. Another result was getting to spend a disproportionate amount of the year enjoying summertime; I’ve never known so much sunshine in one year. I’m begrudgingly beginning to accept just how much blue sky exposure affects my outlook on… basically everything.
Bring on your wrecking ball*
The last year was also characterised by some pretty potent growing pains. In the early months of 2024, it felt like change – deeply unwelcome change – was being thrust on me from every angle. Between significant upheaval at work, several of my closest friends leaving the country, and a relationship coming to an unpleasant end, at times I had the distinct impression my whole life was imploding around me. And all this with the backdrop of a) turning 30 (which, as I discussed in my previous blog, can force you to scrutinise the state of your life in a pretty uncomfortable way), and b) struggling with the longest depressive episode I’d experienced in at least a decade. Maybe ever.
However, the thing about growing pains is that, although they hurt at the time, they’re ultimately both good and necessary. In the past few months, I’ve often considered the last year in terms of a caterpillar analogy. You know, 2024 was the “chrysalis” year, preparing for the beautiful butterfly of 2025, etcetera etcetera. But actually, I think that’s far too gentle a metaphor. It’s more like the first half of my 2024 was a demolition zone. A wrecking ball is a very messy, but very efficient means of effecting change – fast. And now that the chaos left in the wake of the levelling of my life has settled, it’s clear to see that what felt, at the time, like everything coming crashing down around my ears was actually just the way being paved for a whole new chapter in my personal story.
Year in review
I made a video montage for the end of the year, collating clips from the last 12 months. I must have watched it fifty times and counting; considering I was present for all the footage, it’s amazing how much joy it’s given me to see my year condensed in this way. It also gave me some surprising food for thought. Namely, because you can’t distinguish, looking at the clips from the early parts of the year, and those from the latter end, the extreme difference in how I felt at the time(s). Watching it back, the montage looks for all the world like I’d been having a ball non-stop from January to December.
Firstly, this provided me with a potent reminder that no matter how lovely anyone’s life looks from the photos and social media posts, you never know what’s going on behind the camera. So, don’t make comparisons, and do be kind. Secondly, whilst it’s been easy for me to write off January through July as a miserable period, thanks to the video I realised – remembered – that there were actually plenty of moments of joy during those challenging months.
Unsurprisingly, these little beacons of happiness were almost entirely thanks to the people in my life. Being in a dark place mentally or emotionally can be very isolating, and there were moments when I felt lonely. But I was never allowed to dwell on it for long, because of the astonishing outpouring of love and support from my friends and family. I’ve genuinely never felt more cared about, more cared for, than I have in the last year, which is another silver lining of 2024 all on its own. A key takeaway: love and relationships (not only the romantic kind) matter more than anything.
The light at the end of the tunnel
Another takeaway: however low or unhappy you’re feeling, however much you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel – it is always there. Truly, you never know when you’re going to turn a corner and suddenly find yourself blinking in the unexpected sunshine. Maybe you approach it gradually. Or maybe one day, you’re sobbing uncontrollably in a toilet cubicle at an event for twenty minutes straight, and then, inexplicably, two days later you’re… actually kind of fine. Totally random example, of course. But if it was a personal anecdote, I’d add that by the end of the same week, I was exploring a new city on my own and actively noticing that I felt more awake, more content, more myself, than I had done in over a year. A day or two after that, I spontaneously ended up on the best first date of my life. The remainder of the year only got better, easier, lovelier from there.
2024 was a real rollercoaster ride, that’s for sure. I’ve known some of my lowest lows, and my highest highs, and I’m so grateful for the former, for bringing me to the latter. I wouldn’t change a single thing from the last year, and I’m so excited to see what this new one holds. I suspect it’s going to be another big one for change. And I have no absolutely no idea what that change is going to look like. That same uncertainty scared the hell out of the 29-year-old me. The 30-year-old version’s take?
Bring it on.
*If you don’t recognise it, this is a Bruce Springsteen reference, and I HIGHLY recommend the song for any time you need a bit of I’m-going-to-take-on-the-world-and-win energy.
Personal reminders I’m taking into 2025:
- There’s almost always a silver lining. Look for it, acknowledge it, appreciate it.
- Seek out simple pleasures – and revel in them.
- Let yourself feel gratitude. In our lowest moments, we often focus on everything that’s going wrong. It’s been perhaps my most important lesson from 2024, to learn to consciously recognise all the ways in which I’m incredibly lucky – in having such wonderful people in my life, in my physical health, in having somewhere safe and comfortable to live, in living in a city I adore. And so on.
- Maintain positive mental health practises, even – no, especially – when you don’t think you need them. It’s so much easier to stay in good mental shape than it is to drag yourself out of the abyss if you let it slide.
- A lot of things that are really hard are also really good for you.
- You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow.
- Almost everything works out for the best in the end.
Adventures of an Anglaise 
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