I used to think the best time to plan was when I felt energised and clear-headed. You know that Monday morning feeling when you’re energised and the week looks open and expansive? Yes, that one. When the to-do list is under control (or just abstract enough to pretend it is) and there’s space to dream. Fresh page in your notebook, clean desk, warm cup of tea. You’re ready.
Lately, I’ve started questioning that. Questioning that optimistic version of myself who shows up on a Monday and is never around for very long.
I’ve started noticing that when I plan from a place of energy, I assume I’ll stay in that state. This version of me writes long to-do lists. She thinks juggling multiple goals is achievable. She reminds me of the importance of exercise and socialising and tries to squeeze that in too. She believes we can fit everything in. She forgets what our regular life actually looks like. She ignores the exhaustion that usually creeps in around 3pm, or how long it takes to get our daughter settled at daycare each morning.
The plans feel great at the time. They give me a sense of accomplishment before I’ve even started. But then the real me shows up for work at 10am, and I can’t keep up with anything she planned. I spend the day chasing my tail and feeling like I’ve failed.
This December, I’m tired. Not in a dramatic, falling-apart way. Just the kind of tired that builds slowly after a big year. The kind that comes from running a business, being a parent, being pregnant and holding all the other “adult” things in my brain. And then, just as the energy is truly dwindling, we’re hit with 39 degree heat (if you’re in Sydney like me), a list of social events, kindy end-of-year parties, Santa photos... and throw in a Wiggles concert.
I’m ready to say goodbye to 2025. To enjoy the break, and hopefully come back in January with that “new year” buzz. The fresh calendar, new notebooks, all the things we use to convince ourselves that this year will be different. That this is the year everything gets done and the wheels won’t fall off by March.
But instead of waiting for that new year energy to lure me into a false sense of reality, I’m realising that this tired, depleted state might be the perfect place to plan from. I’m not planning based on who I wish I was.The imposter who shows up for two months and dictates the rest of the year. I’m planning from the perspective of who I really am. Creased pants, dirty hair and all. She’s the one who’s here most of the time. And I’m okay with that. That’s life.
A few months ago, we told our community that Curated (our monthly project subscription) would end this year. Instead of the endless to-do list a perpetual subscription demands, there was an endpoint. And when I reached it, there was space. Space to rest, to dream, to write, to think about what’s next. It’s been the biggest silver lining of a really challenging year. I had time to feel all the feelings and come out the other side.
So although I am exhausted, I am also excited and inspired about what’s coming next. Yes, I am still walking towards a financial cliff. Curated ends this month, and with it, our subscription revenue - the bread and butter of the business for the last four years. But I have hope. This new creative container I’m working on behind the scenes feels like the thing our community and I have both been craving.
And as I make plans to launch this new thing, I’m asking: what’s actually achievable? I’m writing shorter to-do lists. I want to end each day feeling like I did what I set out to do, instead of feeling like I let five important things slide.
This time to think has made me clear about what I want to do: support our community to have thoughtful and enjoyable making experiences. I want people to feel supported and inspired. And to do that for others, I need to start with myself. You can’t drink from an empty cup, right? So I’m putting systems in place to feel supported and inspired, so I can lead how I want to.
I’m also leaning into the idea that good enough is good enough. Instead of striving for perfection, I’m doing my best with the resources I have, trusting that things will improve through the process. Courtney (my right-hand at ITF) and I recorded our first podcast episode this week - part of our new offering next year. We reminded ourselves constantly: we’re learning. The first one might not be amazing. The sound quality might be off. We might sound stiff. But we’ll get better. Our skills and confidence will grow. And that’s all we can hope for, right?
This mindset shift has changed how I think about the year ahead.
For the first time, I’m going into a new year with plans that might actually happen. Not because I’m more motivated, but because I’ve made them from a place of honesty. I’ve finally stopped pretending I have more hours, more energy, more childcare than I do.
Since becoming a mother, I’ve had to learn this over and over. I need to plan for who I am now, not the fictional version, the past version, or the one that might return in six months.
What I’ve learned, slowly and painfully, is that there’s power in making decisions based on what’s true now. Not what used to work. Not what I wish were true. Just what is.
And so, I’m not planning 2026 from a Pinterest board or an idealised version of my life. I’m planning from my home office, where the actual work gets done. From the reality of a full life, with a toddler popping in and out and another baby on the way.
Yes, we’re expecting another baby next year. And to some, that might sound like the opposite of simplifying. But having a baby has a way of cutting through the noise. There’s no pretending you can do it all. You have to prioritise. Let some things go. That kind of forced clarity is something I’ve come to value.
I wasn’t ready for how much it would change every part of my life last time. But this time, I am. Bring it on, I say.
So no big goals for 2026. No five-year plan. Just small, steady steps that actually make sense for who I am now, and for the community I want to serve.
And for the first time, that feels like enough. It feels perfectly enough. I am perfectly enough as I am now. Just saying those words brings a stream of tears down my cheeks, because it’s what I have been waiting for for these last ten years I have been running a business.
Interesting that my business future is at its most uncertain, but somehow I have more clarity than I’ve had in a long time.
So what are you saying goodbye to in 2025? Any versions of yourself you’re letting go of, to make space for who you really are - and where you really are - right now?