There’s this cultural expectation that January 1st should feel like a fresh start—confetti, champagne, and optimism about all the possibilities ahead. But what if you’re standing at the threshold of a new year and your heart just feels… heavy?
What if the world around you feels uncertain, unsafe, or overwhelming? What if you’re carrying grief from what 2025 took from you—or grief about what you’re still waiting to receive?
If that’s you, I want you to know: you’re not doing this wrong.
You Don’t Have to Choose Between Grief and Hope
One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned—both as a therapist and as a Black woman navigating this world—is that we don’t have to choose between grieving and hoping. We can hold both.
You can acknowledge that things feel hard right now. You can name the losses, the disappointments, the ways the world has failed to protect you. You can feel angry, exhausted, or scared about what’s ahead.
And at the same time, you can also hold space for the possibility of healing. For small moments of joy. For the relationships that sustain you. For your own resilience, even when it feels like it’s running on empty.
This isn’t toxic positivity. This is the both/and of being human.
When the World Itself Is Traumatic
For many of us—especially Black folks, Indigenous folks, people of color, queer and trans folks, disabled folks—the heaviness we’re carrying isn’t just personal. It’s collective.
We’re living through ongoing racial violence, attacks on bodily autonomy, rollbacks of LGBTQ+ rights, and political rhetoric that denies our full humanity. That’s not something you can just “mindset” your way out of. It’s real. It impacts our nervous systems. It makes sense that your body and mind are responding with protective strategies: hypervigilance, withdrawal, numbness, rage.
Race-based trauma and gender-based trauma don’t take a holiday just because the calendar flips. And healing from that kind of ongoing harm isn’t about forcing yourself to feel optimistic. It’s about honoring what you’re experiencing while still tending to yourself with compassion.
What Your Parts Might Be Feeling Right Now
If you’re familiar with Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy, you know that we all have different parts—aspects of ourselves that carry different emotions, beliefs, and roles. As we move into this new year, your parts might be in conflict with each other.
Maybe one part is desperate for things to feel different this year. Another part is exhausted and doesn’t want to try anymore. A protective part might be saying, “Don’t get your hopes up—you’ll just be disappointed again.” And underneath all of that, there might be a tender part that’s simply grieving.
All of these parts make sense. They’re all trying to help you survive.
The invitation isn’t to silence any of them or force them into false positivity. It’s to acknowledge each one with curiosity and compassion. What are they each trying to tell you? What do they each need?
The Mosaic Includes the Broken Pieces
I often talk about healing as creating a mosaic—weaving fragmented pieces into something beautiful and whole. But here’s what’s important to remember: the mosaic doesn’t erase the brokenness. It doesn’t pretend the cracks never happened.
The beauty comes from acknowledging all the pieces—the shattered ones, the sharp edges, the parts that still hurt—and finding a way to honor them as part of your story.
You don’t have to be “healed” to be whole. You don’t have to have it all figured out by February. You can start this year exactly as you are: carrying both grief and hope, exhaustion and resilience, fear and courage.
Gentle Intentions Instead of Resolutions
If traditional New Year’s resolutions feel like too much pressure right now, what if you tried something different? Instead of grand commitments to transform yourself, what if you simply set gentle intentions?
Here are some possibilities:
“This year, I’m going to notice when I need rest—and actually take it.”
“I’m going to practice asking for what I need, even when it feels vulnerable.”
“I’m going to let myself feel my feelings without judging them as ‘too much.'”
“I’m going to seek out spaces and relationships where I can show up as my full self.”
These aren’t about becoming someone new. They’re about honoring who you already are and what you need to move through the world with a little more ease.
You’re Already Doing Enough
If you made it through 2025, you’ve already done something extraordinary. You survived. You kept going, even when it was hard. That matters.
As we step into this new year, I hope you can give yourself permission to grieve what needs to be grieved, rest when you need to rest, and trust that healing doesn’t have to look like the Instagram version of transformation.
You can carry your heavy heart into this new year. You can also leave room for joy, connection, and possibility. Both are true. Both are allowed.
