To the One Trying Not to Lose Themselves — Even in the Middle of It All
Dear friend,
Mid-December has a way of pulling at everything at once.
The calendar fills. The noise increases. Expectations multiply.
There are places to be, roles to play, decisions to make, feelings to manage, endings to hold, beginnings hovering just out of reach.
It can feel like life speeds up without asking whether your body agreed to the pace.
So let me say this gently, without romance or performance:
If you are trying not to lose yourself right now, that matters.
Not because you’re doing this season “well.” Not because you feel steady, centered, or clear.
But because some part of you is still here — still listening, still noticing, still making small choices to stay present instead of disappearing entirely.
Trying counts. Being in your life doesn’t mean you feel grounded all the time.
It doesn’t mean you’re calm, regulated, or certain. It means you haven’t abandoned yourself — even when the pull to do so is strong.
And in a season like this, that is no small thing.
So much of December subtly teaches us to override ourselves: to keep moving, to keep producing, to keep showing up in ways that look acceptable from the outside.
Yet staying with yourself — even imperfectly — is a quieter, truer kind of strength.
Not the kind that pushes. Not the kind that performs resilience. The kind that notices when you’re stretched thin and chooses honesty instead of collapse.
This is something I return to often in my own life and in my work: power doesn’t always look like forward motion.
Sometimes it looks like pacing. Sometimes it looks like pulling back. Sometimes it looks like telling the truth about what you can and cannot carry right now.
If this season has you feeling less resourced than usual, that isn’t a failure. It’s a reasonable response to a world that asks a lot and rarely pauses to ask how you are.
Trying not to lose yourself in the middle of it all doesn’t require mastery. It requires return.
Return to your breath. Return to your body. Return to your limits. Return to what is actually true — not what the season suggests you should be able to handle.
Again and again.
You don’t have to hold yourself together perfectly. You don’t have to stay present all the time. You only have to remember that you’re allowed to come back.
If you’ve been moving through this month braced, tight, or numb, consider this permission to soften — even briefly. You are allowed to be human here. You are allowed to move at your own pace.
You are allowed to stay in your life without disappearing from yourself.
Nothing about this season replaces you.
From my heart to yours,
Practice Postscript
where the letter stops being read & starts being lived.
The Reflection:
Where does this season pull you away from yourself most easily? Not to fix it — just to name it.
Is it the pace? The expectations? The emotional labor?
The pressure to be okay? Let yourself be honest.
The Practice:
Once a day — just once — pause and ask:
“What would help me stay with myself right now?”
Let the answer be small. A breath. A boundary.
A moment of rest. An exhale alone in the bathroom? A choice to do less instead of more. No optimization required.
Living in the Question:
“What helps me stay connected to myself while meeting the responsibilities of this season?”
If this letter helped you breathe a little deeper, trust that.
You don’t need to be certain or perfectly ready — only willing to become more resourced than the world expects you to be.
January is the final month I’ll be offering complimentary discovery calls.
These conversations are gentle, grounding, and pressure-free — a place to feel supported and explore what you truly need as you move into 2026.
Book your complimentary discovery call or apply for coaching below.
I’m here to walk with you into something new.
