End of the year reflections
Katie’s Reflection
As I reflect on this past year, I’m struck by how much has changed—both in my life and within myself. Last New Year’s Eve, I was sitting on the couch with a four-month-old baby, navigating the emotional whirlwind of being a new mom. I had just returned to work after maternity leave, juggling a complicated mix of emotions: exhaustion, uncertainty, and a self-consciousness that seemed to shadow every part of my identity.
I worried constantly about how others viewed me. Was I perceived as a good enough mother? What were others thinking about my postpartum body and the fact that I was still wearing maternity clothes? Was I still competent at work, or had the fog of sleepless nights and the endless loop of baby-related thoughts dulled my professional sharpness? My brain was pulled in so many directions, and I felt like I wasn’t excelling in any of them. I felt so emotionally raw and vulnerable, and I felt like everyone could see it so plainly.
But as the months rolled by, something surprising happened—I started to care less about what others thought. Instead of focusing on external judgments, I began to trust myself more and trust the loving connection I had cultivated with my baby. Slowly but surely, I realized that no one else was keeping score as harshly as I was. And if they were? It didn’t make much difference to me anymore.
That’s not to say this year has been free of self-doubt. I’ve had countless moments where I’ve questioned my parenting choices: Am I doing enough to help my child thrive? Should I have been firmer about getting him to eat healthier? Could someone else do a better job? But then there are those moments—when he looks at me with pure joy or lights up when I walk into a room—that remind me I’m doing a good enough job. And maybe, in the grand scheme of things, good enough is exactly what he needs.
As I look ahead to 2025, my intention is to carry this hard-earned confidence forward and build on it. I want to allow myself the freedom to exist as a fully realized person, separate from my roles as a mom and employee. I want to pursue my goals and passions without carrying the weight of guilt. My child deserves a happy, fulfilled mom—and I deserve to be that person for myself.
So here’s to a new year filled with growth, balance, and grace. If you’re reading this and nodding along, I hope you join me in setting an intention to embrace your worth—because no matter how messy, imperfect, or unsure we feel, we are doing enough. And we are enough.
Wishing you all the greatest happiness in the new year.
- Katie
Kim’s Reflection
Trigger Warning: Pregnancy Loss
2024 was nothing like I expected. I started the year full of hope and excitement, having just found out I was pregnant and creating the start of MyTribe. After everything I went through with my first pregnancy—a near-death experience that led to my son being born at 28 weeks and a long NICU stay—I had always anticipated what a second pregnancy might bring. That night, I felt gratitude and cautious optimism for what the year ahead might hold.
But life had other plans. As I sit here now, at the end of 2024, I’m still not pregnant. This year has been marked by recurrent losses, each one bringing a new level of grief I never thought would be part of my story. It’s not something I’ve shared widely on social media—partly because it still feels too raw, too personal to put into words, and partly because I’m still processing what this chapter means for me.
2024 is not the year I thought it would be. And yet, I’ve grown more than any other year. I’ve come to understand the depth of grief that accompanies loss, both in robbing me of moments in the present and future, and of a heartbreak I didn’t know possible. But I’ve also learned about the resilience of hope and the power of trust. Life, in its unexpected ways, has shown me how it can give back, even during the hardest seasons, reshaping my perspective in quite literally everything.
I've come to understand that gratitude is the antidote to grief, and my appreciation for my health, my support system, and my son has grown in ways I never thought possible. So if 2024 was the season of grief, it’s also been the season of gratitude. The thing with gratitude is it’s almost like putting on a new pair of glasses and seeing the world with a different clarity. You don’t realize the depths of where gratitude lies until life forces a new perspective on you. This chapter has given me a chance to truly be present with my son and savor the moments that make motherhood so profound while fueling my passion and energy to launch MyTribe. It’s made me a more understanding, patient, and accepting person.
As I look ahead to 2025, I hold both the weight and the wisdom of this past year. I hope the road ahead feels gentle. If 2024 has taught me anything, it’s the importance of taking care of myself and letting others care for me when I can’t do it alone. As hard as it is to accept and receive help, I’ve found such comfort in being cared for by others, whether that’s by my masseuse or acupuncturist or by a family member offering a home-cooked meal or an hour to watch my son so I can do yoga or tennis. And in return, taking care of myself is the best gift I can give my son.
While I generally view the new year as an arbitrary marker of time, it can also be a new window of hope. I trust that this new year will bring more healing, allowing me to grow in ways I don’t yet understand, and trust that one day, this journey will make sense. If you’ve walked through your own storm this year, I hope you join me in finding grace in the messiness of it all. Because even in the hardest seasons, there’s a version of us that’s stronger, softer, and still standing on the other side.
Wishing you strength and hope in the new year.
- Kim
