It’s that time of year where we’re all feeling pressured to reflect on our previous year, and plan our next 365 days.  It’s reflection and resolution season.  To say I have some cynicism towards resolutions would be an understatement.  But I am a fan of reflection.

And now that I reflect on my first full year without Chris, as a widow, I find myself feeling a lot more than I planned.  And reflecting a lot more than I thought I would.

This time last year, I was a lot more intoxicated than I am today, to be honest.  I vaguely remember my Uber ride home.  But I definitely remember the hangover the next morning.

This time last year, I had not yet embraced the ever-present sadness.  I knew it would be there, but I was not yet prepared to own it, to let it be a part of me, and to let myself find a way to weave it into my persona, and my daily living.

This time last year, I had not yet acknowledged the need for quiet.  The need for space.  The need for alone time.  The need to just be.  As an only child, I forgot how much I need that sometimes.  I am, as it turns out, a bit of an introvert.

This time last year, I learned to begin living in the moment.  And thankfully, I’ve continued delving into that lesson.  It’s a lesson I have to accept as one with an infinite well of learning.  Because every moment is one I can either choose to live in, or wish I had lived a bit more in.  It’s the ongoing lesson I work to continue to learn by living it.  (*insert unnecessary social media propaganda, i.e. #goals)

This time last year, I had no idea I would be in this role in my career.  I actually had very different plans.  But…

This time last year, I named 2017 “The Year of the Pause”.  And I decided to stop trying to take control of everything, and instead take some time to just live, letting my life path shape itself.  For the most part, it worked out.  Life led me down roads I never would have taken myself.  And at this moment, I find myself in a state of peace I doubt I would have felt if I had taken the reins myself.  Funny how that works.  Then again, maybe not.

This time last year, I had no idea what an awful listener I was.  How horrible I truly had become at not only hearing others, but also in understanding them, valuing them, and ensuring they felt loved and valued.  I have a long way to go.  But I’ve also come much further than I was…

This time last year, I never would have dreamed of logging so many miles on my feet.  I didn’t keep track of exactly how many miles I ran, walked, and jogged.  But I estimate it’s somewhere between 300 and 400 miles.  Maybe I’ll keep track this year.  Maybe not.  Just glad I was able to use my legs as they were intended a little more than I had in the past.

This time last year, I was beginning to search for my identity.  Without Chris.  To be fair, I’m wondering if that search won’t take quite a few more years.  A lot more trial and error.  A lot more, “Katie, remember that time you tried…”.  I’m up for it.  The memories are always worth it.

This time last year, I had no idea the low’s I would experience.  The low’s I would watch friends experience.  The tears I would cry, or the tears I would watch flow, just sitting, listening, understanding, and empathizing.

This time last year, I had no idea I would learn how to deal with (mistakenly) paying bills a little late.

This time last year, I had no idea I would learn to drive on the beach.

This time last year, I had no idea I would learn the limits of my friendship.

This time last year, I had no idea how little I understood “self love”.

This time last year, I had no idea I’d be sitting here in tears, writing a blog post, while a man brings me cup of hot chocolate, topped with heaping amounts of whipped cream and marshmallows, because he knows that’s the only thing he can do.  And loves me just the same.

This time last year, I had no intentions of making any real resolutions.  The same as I’ll continue this year.  Because, as it turns out, life will roll as it will.  And that’s okay.  I’m happy where I’ve been, where I am, and where ever I’m going.  Because this year I learned to love the person along the way – this year I learned to love me.

I still don’t know if I’ve made Chris proud.  If I’ve done the right things.  If there were things I could have done better or worse.  But I do know I’ve come to love the person I’m becoming.  And I’ve learned to love the chance to pause.

Maybe next year I’ll finally run a half-marathon.  Or start travelling again.  Or miss some new deadlines.  Or take up a new hobby.  Or get a tattoo.  Or write a book.  But then again, maybe not.

What matters is I’ve learned to love myself.  All the pieces – even the broken ones – I’ve learned to appreciate, to own, and to embrace.

And at the end of the year, in the season of resolutions, isn’t that what we’re all striving for anyway?  In its essence, isn’t a resolution a way to just love yourself a little more?

Love & Hugs, Friends.  May the new year bring you closer to loving all the pieces of yourself, too.