Past reflection, future hopes
Hello 2025!
As I reflect on a Christmas shaped by both loss and peace, I’m embracing complex emotions, honouring change, and setting hopeful intentions for 2025.
Is it too late to say Happy New Year? Probably, but since this is my first newsletter of 2025, I’m saying it anyway - Happy New Year! I sincerely hope you had a wonderful Christmastime and that the start of your year has been peaceful and joyous.
While the festive season can be full of fun, it’s also a time that can be stressful, triggering, and deeply emotional. If this resonates with you, I hope you’ve been able to find some much-needed peace, solitude, and healing from any challenges the season brought your way.
This was my first Christmas without my mum. The disbelief of her passing still washes over me, and I’ve had many moments where I’ve simply cried, mourning all that was and all that couldn’t be. On her birthday, just days after Christmas, I missed her deeply. I felt an emptiness, but chose to celebrate her birthday as if she were still here. It felt right to honour her in that way, and in those moments, I felt her presence.
It was also my first year free from the challenges of her narcissistic ways, making it the most peaceful Christmas I’ve ever experienced - something I hadn’t expected. I felt a lightness in her absence. For years, Christmas had been marked by arguments, criticism, and impossible expectations. Nothing I did was ever enough. Feelings I know are experienced by many during the festive season, with or without narcissistic parents. This year, that pressure was gone. It was just me and my family, and for the first time, my Christmas day felt calm.
Two things can be true at once
Even though I noticed the peace without her, I still missed her and wished she were by my side. The hope I had for us will never fade. In missing her, I longed for the version of her I imagined and would occasionally see - happy, excited, and silly. The one who made jokes and sparked conversations.
Her personality swung like a pendulum, with incredible highs and extreme lows. Her humour could light up a room with laughter, but also cut deeply if you were the target of one of her ‘jokes’. Her bluntness often left me cringing or hurt, especially when her comments were directed at me. Yet, this Christmas, I missed that voice in the room - the one that said what everyone else was thinking. Reflecting on that, it seems we had more moments of alignment than I’d ever previously realised. Fleeting but present.
This Christmas, I honoured my emotions as best I could, carving out time to process my feelings. I embraced and enjoyed the busier times, but cancelled a few plans when it all felt overwhelming. The old me would never have admitted that, let alone cancelled anything. I’m thankful I felt safe and brave enough to prioritise my needs.
Looking ahead to 2025
I’ve always loved the start of a New Year. I enjoy thinking about my goals and wishes for the year ahead, without putting too much pressure on myself. I’ve been guilty of doing this in the past and it’s why I tend to avoid using the term ‘New Year's Resolutions’. For some reason, I feel less pressure when I think about ‘goals’ and ‘wishes’.
However, this idea was reframed again for me recently when I was asked what my two words for 2025 would be. Without much thought I blurted out “hope” and “truth”. When I reflect on this, I feel hopeful for the future and pursuing the goals I’ve set for this year, but the word “truth” caught me by surprise.
It revealed a deeper goal I hadn’t realised was so important to me - speaking and living in my truth. These are two things I’ve struggled with in the past, but 2024 changed me, and I can no longer ignore what has shifted within me. This shift has been shaped by age, evolving circumstances, and most profoundly, the loss of my mum. I no longer want to fear this change or feel confined by others’ outdated expectations of me. In 2025, I wish to embrace the person I’ve become and live fully in my truth.
What are your two words for 2025?
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Take care,
Chloe x
My two words form a sentence: More Jesus. I have a sense of urgency this year to seek the lord earnestly day by day.
This was beautiful and I thank you for sharing this story. I feel this way about my grandmother. She was always so mean to my mom but kind to me. And sometimes she could be rude to me as I got older. Loving her was hard but we also loved her cooking, baking and creative ways. She was funny and loved bringing us together even though she was dramatic lol