photo: candor images
As this year comes to a close, I’m noticing a long exhale that I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’ve yearned for a year that felt notable for having many highs and fewer lows, and 2025 seems to have delivered.
Two years ago, in January of 2024, I started seeing a therapist who specializes in ADHD, in addition to the therapist who has guided me for years. On my intake form, I noted that my ultimate goal was to obtain the skills and ability to pursue hobbies and interests outside of my necessary daily tasks. I longed to manage my ADHD so that my life would allow space for presence, rest, creativity, and joy.
Since then, I’ve invested over a hundred hours with mental health professionals, all in service of that goal. 2024 often felt like spinning my wheels, but 2025 brought slow, meaningful progress.
This year, I spent a lot of time recognizing and honoring the limits of my own capacity. I noticed the crackle of burnout in a way I could no longer ignore. I became more protective of my time, more honest with myself about my limits, and more tender toward the parts of me that are still figuring things out. I feel stirrings of something new—more on that to come.
Progress was evident in the time I spent reading, resting, connecting, biking, hiking, knitting, and taking trips to the ocean. My marriage asked for honesty, patience, and gentleness. We made incredibly difficult decisions, navigated the ongoing challenges of parenthood and life, loved each other imperfectly but consistently, and found so much joy together.
Admittedly, writing about progress is uncomfortable for me. In sharing the highlights, I fear others might feel their struggles more sharply. I don’t want to seem unrelatable or inauthentic. And yet I know that noticing these moments and pausing to let them sink in is deeply important. Doing so literally rewires the brain and heals the nervous system.
I don’t know exactly what next year will ask of me, though I have a hunch. I hope there continues to be room for slowness. I hope I keep untangling the threads to find what feels alive. I hope I keep listening to the quiet parts of myself—the ones that have been whispering while I’ve been running. And as the year ends, I want to hold both the weight and the light, honoring where I’ve been, and stepping gently into what’s next.
Xo,
T
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