The Quiet Growth
For me, December always feels like a deep exhale.
A month where the whole year finally catches up with me —
the deadlines, the emotions, the responsibilities, the weight of it all.
Most years, I feel relieved it’s ending and still secretly hope the next one will be “better,” which usually means easier. And it never is.
But lately I’ve realised something:
every time I look back, I see that I grew far more than I ever noticed in the moment.
Not in the shiny, polished, Instagram-ready way.
But in the quiet way — the way that actually shapes a life.
In the mornings I showed up even when I was tired.
In the moments I calmed myself instead of reacting.
In the times I held myself together through something nobody else even knew about.
In the boundaries I set — or tried to set.
In the conversations I finally had with honesty.
In the fears I faced, even when it felt like too much.
In the losses I carried with all the raw, messiness of being me.
In every small choice to keep going.
Day after day.
I think we tend to underestimate this kind of resilience because it arrives quietly. It doesn’t come with applause.
Sometimes it doesn’t feel like growth at all — it feels like surviving.
But it counts. It builds us. It shapes us and helps us become who we are.
It’s the daily, imperfect work of being human.
Of facing life’s waves and our own internal earthquakes —
the fears, the beliefs, the stories we still carry.
So if you feel overwhelmed or tired as this year ends,
I hope you find a moment to look back and notice and appreciate the quiet growth, the resilience, the progress you made simply by living it all.
Love,
R
