Why I’m Ready for Whatever 2024 Has to Give

The challenges of 2023 taught me some valuable life lessons—and now I’m staring down this next year with optimism and strength.

As I step into 2024 with both feet firmly planted, I bid farewell to 2023. It’s part of the human condition to shed the past year and embrace the future, but this year I'm not just leaving behind a year; I'm leaving behind layers of me — woven together threads of joy and grief, fear and growth, letting go and setting boundaries. 

To me, 2023 was a layer cake of challenging events and experiences that were hard in different ways. Close to home, I was dealing with my mother’s dementia, both logistically and emotionally. I was embarking on a new phase in my professional life, better aligning my role as Human Sustainability Leader to the very important work that must be done not only within my company, but within our communities and societies here and abroad. The idea of global human sustainability felt especially crucial last year, between political unrest and war happening all over the world. At times, the negativity felt without end.

Last year taught (uhh, forced) me the art of releasing what no longer serves me, allowing space for new beginnings and making room for the unexpected joys that awaited (even though many came with a heavy dose of anxiety too). Some changes were out of my control, some were within, and some sat somewhere in between. But every one of them was a learning opportunity for me.

Chief among these learning opportunities was the recognition that I was carrying emotions and perspectives that no longer served me. With my mother’s Alzheimer's, there came a point where I just had to let go and learn to be in the moment with her. I had to accept that with Alzheimer’s, as with many chronic diseases that end your life, neither I nor my sisters can change the outcome. Acknowledging that is really hard, and the grief is really hard—but being able to accept that and let it go (or learn to live with it in a way that allows me to continuing living my life) and be in the moment regardless of what that moment is, taught me a valuable skill. 

There is joy in that acceptance, too. The joy of being with my mom, or of being in a different moment, without having some presupposed outcome of how it will feel or how it will play out. I let myself appreciate the unexpected.

But that doesn’t always erase the heavy dose of anxiety I mentioned earlier. I am a control freak, and change is hard. For example, changing jobs is hard. Last year I moved  on from a role I'd created and been in for eight years, and in doing so I had to let go of the feeling that I might let people down, and lean into the unknown that comes with any evolution, career or otherwise. 

This whirlwind of feelings and fears and joys and surprises is part of being human. We can embrace it for all of its imperfections and find the joy in it, or we can get stuck. In June of last year, I wrote about the turbulent and beautiful power of transformation. The fact is, evolution and change can also feel lonely. Many times during the year I felt very lonely, I was stuck in this sense of loneliness that I hadn’t ever felt before, even as I knew intellectually I wasn't really alone.

I was surrounded by people who were showing up for me even when I didn't ask. Old and new friends appeared like guiding stars. They knew what I needed, even when I didn't. Their warmth and understanding became a source of strength, proving that life continually brings us kindred spirits who walk beside us. It was a powerful reminder that I am not alone, and I am very loved. I have people with me on my journey, whatever it is. Our friendships deepened, our bonds were strengthened, and the power of collective support became evident. 

And it’s funny: Some of the deepest connections I made in 2023 are people that I have not yet met in real life. People I connected with over social media, or friends of a friend… maybe we’ve met on Zoom, but I have yet to meet some of them face to face. Yet I now consider them some of my closest friends.

Amidst the challenges and victories of the past year, I learned to trust myself—to listen to my instincts, honor my feelings, and navigate the complexities with authenticity. I didn’t hide what I was feeling or what I was going through from people in my personal life and in my work life. I made this decision to show up and be authentic. I felt comfortable acknowledging when I was struggling, or when I was feeling anxiety. And the response from others was incredibly compassionate and heartwarming. Many people could relate when I talked about what I was going through with my mom. We just don’t talk about these things enough. But we should. It helps.

Boundary-setting is another aspect of authenticity that can help during times of change.  Last year, the boundaries around my own self-care and what I said “yes” and “no” to became even more important. My nature is to overrun my own boundaries when things are hard—if I’m saying yes to everything and pushing myself to do do do, I have less time to sit with my feelings. But that doesn't help with the healing, it just prolongs it. So I made certain not to do that, and instead to claim the space I needed and not give into my coping mechanism. Another thing I’ve come to realize: Boundaries aren’t just for coworkers, neighbors, or acquaintances. It’s healthy and ok to set boundaries with everyone in your life, as needed.

2023 was a year of metamorphosis. 2024 will be a year of authenticity and empowerment. Cheers to the poignant dance of grief, the liberating art of letting go, the empowering strength of setting boundaries, the magic of human connection, and the unwavering trust in oneself.

I carry these lessons as a light into the unknown of 2024. Like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon, I'm eager for the adventures, the lessons, the joy, the love, and to trust in the unfolding chapters of the unwritten story.

2023 edition! These are the things that got me through the year…

📘 What I read: The In-Between: Unforgettable Encounters During Life's Final Moments, by Hadley Vlahos R.N. Death is an inescapable, mysterious, scary part of life. But Vlahos, a hospice care nurse, sheds light on this inevitable journey by sharing stories of her time with patients at the very end of their lives, all told with compassion, honesty, and respect.

❤️ What moved me: The Light of the World, by poet Elizabeth Alexander. This beautiful, heartbreaking memoir chronicles the loss of her husband and father of her two teenage boys and the immeasurable grief that came with it, but also pays tribute to their love and life together.

🎧 What I listened to: The We Can Do Hard Things podcast. I always find it comforting and inspiring to listen to the three hosts—Glennon Doyle, her wife Abby Wambach, and her sister Amanda Doyle—frankly discuss, well, the hard parts of life, with guests like Tracee Ellis Ross, Megan Rapinoe, and Gloria Steinem. The conversations are always interesting, surprisingly relatable, and a reminder to me that we are all doing hard things, every day. And we are more powerful for it.

🐕 Where I went: On long walks to the park with my dog, Fiona. Whether I’m feeling anxious, sad, excited, happy—or any other emotion on the vast spectrum of human experience—spending time in nature with my girl sets my day right. 

😴 What I did: Lots and lots of naps that I don’t feel guilty about. And you shouldn’t either.