6 minute read

December has a way of pulling us forward. What we'll do differently next year. What we'll finally start. What we'll fix.

But before we get there, I want to press pause and look backward. Not at what you didn't do, but at what you did.

Here's the thing: we're wired to notice what's incomplete. The goal we didn't hit. The habit that didn't stick. Meanwhile, the stuff we actually accomplished just fades into the background like quiet wins that never ask for attention. Our brains scan for problems, not victories. That instinct kept us alive thousands of years ago. Now it mostly keeps us feeling behind.

So today, we're flipping the script.

Why We Struggle to See Our Own Progress

Our brains evolved to keep us safe, which meant constantly scanning for threats and problems. Great for survival. Not so great for self-compassion.

This negativity bias means we can have a hundred small wins and one setback, and guess which one keeps us up at night? We remember the workout we skipped, not the fifty we showed up for. We remember the meal that flopped, not the dozens that fed our families without fanfare.

The good news? Awareness is the first step. Once you know your brain is doing this, you can intentionally redirect your attention.

When You Forget to Count Your Own Work

I'll be honest with you. I've been frustrated.

For the past six months, I've had plans for the next evolution of SV Living. I know the direction. I can feel what's coming. But something has felt stuck, like the momentum is gathering but not quite releasing. It's that strange tension of being right on the edge of a chapter you can't fully step into yet.

This week, I was venting to my daughter about all of it. She listened, then looked at me and said, "Mom, this is exactly how you felt about the cookbook last year."

Right. That.

Last year at this time, I wasn't reflecting or feeling philosophical. I was just tired of waiting. So much depended on other people finishing their parts. Editors, designers, printers. When it's not fully in your control, the delays feel louder. I remember wondering if it was ever actually going to happen. Not dramatically, just in that quiet, worn-out way where you refresh your email more often than you'd like to admit.

And then it did happen.

The book came out in June. It became a finalist in two international awards. The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. And this year, I've learned more about marketing, online setup, newsletters, and programs than I ever imagined I would.

After listening to my rant, my daughter said, "Maybe this is just the part right before the next thing moves. The same place you were in last year."

She wasn't wrong.

Instead of focusing on everything that hasn't happened yet, she reminded me to notice how much has. And honestly, it shifted something in me.

Reflection Matters More Than Reinvention

You don't have to earn the new year. You don't have to sprint to the finish line. You don't have to "finish strong" unless it genuinely feels supportive.

Most of us have already lived a full, complicated, very human year. Some of it may have included joy. Some of it may have included challenge. Some of it may have been tragic or heartbreaking. And if you're still here reading this, you made it through that too.

Sometimes simply making it through is the quiet triumph we overlook.

Reflection isn't procrastination. It's a way of telling the truth about your year before you start planning the next one.

What Actually Worked in Your Kitchen This Year

Before January tries to talk you into reinventing your entire meal plan, take a breath and notice what already worked.

Think about the meals that became regulars in your rotation. The recipes you actually made more than once. The shortcuts that saved you on hard days.

But the real nourishment lived in the everyday moments. The quick dinners that saved an evening. The meal you pulled together when you were exhausted. The unplanned snack plate that became dinner. The frozen container you forgot about until the exact moment you needed it. The breakfast-for-dinner no one complained about.

We get so focused on what we "should" be eating that we forget to notice what's already nourishing us. Maybe it's not picture-perfect. Maybe it's not Instagram-worthy. But if it fed you and the people you love, it worked.

None of that is failure. All of that counts.

Rethink What Movement Actually Means

Before you start thinking about what your workout routine "should" look like next year, let's look at what you actually did.

We tend to only count the official stuff. Gym sessions. Classes. Runs with a playlist. But movement is so much bigger than that.

It lived in the walk you took to clear your head. It lived in the dancing you did while stirring something on the stove. It lived in stretching on the floor during a show. It lived in carrying groceries in one determined trip. It lived in chasing kids or pets or papers blowing in the wind. It lived in the ten-minute walk that salvaged your mood on a hard day.

You don't need a perfect routine to be someone who moves. You already are. It might not have looked like a training plan, but it was still your body showing up and carrying you through another year.

Your body has been doing its job all year in ways you may not have even noticed. Let those things count.

How to Close the Year Without the Hustle

There's so much pressure to finish strong, isn't there? To cram in everything you meant to do. To sprint across December like you're proving something.

But here's what I want you to hear: you don't have to earn the new year by hustling through this one.

The pressure to "end strong" is really just another way of saying you're not enough as you are. But you've already done a year. A whole one. That's enough.

Letting things stay undone is a form of wisdom. Starting fresh when it feels right is still starting. Resting more than you planned is not a failure. Saying no is a whole practice in self-respect. And letting go of the running tally of "what you didn't get to" is relief your nervous system deserves.

A Better Way to Reflect Before You Plan

Before you write a single resolution, ask yourself these questions:

What am I proud of from this year, even if no one else saw it?

What felt hard that I got through anyway?

What do I want to carry forward, not because I "should," but because it actually worked?

These questions shift your focus from lack to abundance. From criticism to curiosity. From pressure to possibility. Answering honestly gives you something solid to build from.

Your Year-End Reflection Challenge

This week, try something simple. Grab a piece of paper or open a note on your phone. Set a timer for five minutes. Write down everything you did this year that you're not giving yourself credit for.

Don't edit. Don't judge. Just list.

The meals you made. The hard conversations you had. The boundaries you held. The times you showed up even when you didn't feel like it. The moments you chose rest over productivity. The relationships you nurtured. The small joys you noticed.

Let the list be messy. Let it surprise you. Let it remind you that you've been doing more than you think.

Before You Go

You lived a full year. A human one. Full of things you planned and things you didn't. Moments you're proud of and moments that stretched you. Seasons that nourished you and seasons that took more than they gave.

Let yourself see all of it before you step into what's next.

I'm reminding myself of this too.

Here's to noticing what's already here. Here's to shifting from frustration into truth. Here's to honoring the quiet resilience that carried you to this moment. Here's to a gentler December and a next chapter that unfolds in its own right timing.