New Year, new me? Oh no, authentic me, not new me. But always grateful. First post of the new year and my new year intentions.
1 January 2026 — 12:03pm
It is the first day of the new year, and an early walk at eight, before dawn has even properly woken, with my father and my boyfriend has left me tired. I treat myself to the luxury of getting back into bed, half-dressed and fully luxuriating in cool, freshly washed sheets that are crisp and enticing. Sleep comes despite the light streaming in through the skylight, and I love that my boyfriend is so totally understanding and accepting of my fatigue and my body’s need to rest.
“I’ll just have 20 minutes…” I yawn, and he chuckles.
He is leaning over me, smiling broadly — me, the little creature all snuggled down, his, and him mine. I feel the warmth of his breath, that comfortable, casual weight of him, and how much I appreciate being in a relationship with my best friend.
“Just long enough for me to clean the kitchen?”
We both smile and chuckle. I can clean the kitchen, but it will never be to the CSI Murder Investigation Squad level he can achieve, and sometimes it is simply easier for him to find a meditative practice in this act.
In the time I am asleep, nestled in my duvet folds, the kitchen is cleaned. He has made a coffee, gone to fetch wood, and even tentatively made plans to catch up with a friend if he comes to our village. He is naturally productive — a quality that sits well with my overactive, overworking neuro-something mind.
When he goes out to see if the friend is there, I crawl out of my lair, stretching always-aching limbs and finding the ground carefully before making those first steps. In the bathroom, I brush my teeth for the second time, grateful for an electric toothbrush, and then decide to reflect on last night. Today will be for thinking about the coming year, but last night was a time for reflection.
I have had the most delicious night.
We stayed up late to watch the year come in. Walking down through the darkness of the village that has been my home all my life — if not consistently in tenure — our path was lit by moonlight. We walked through the cold night, our breath hanging in the air, to the local beach, just ten minutes away, and sat on the quay. We cracked open a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne and sat on cold stone, looking back towards Falmouth and the harbour.
We could see a group of people on the beach with a fire. A few others were dotted around. All peaceful. All simply enjoying the tranquillity of the late night and the clarity of the stars above us.
Just before midnight, a few fireworks began to light up the sky. Like little fruit bursts, they brought colour to the noir. Then, at exactly 11:59, the boat foghorns began.
Until you experience it in a place where the sound reverberates around you, it is impossible to fully understand how magical it is. The noise comes from every direction. It engulfs you. It makes you feel small, yet incredibly alive.
After the horns had finished, a small display of fireworks followed, the lights reflecting on the water. It was simple, uncomplicated, and intimate — exactly the way I wanted to start my new year.
My partner and I have now been together for a year and a half. This is our first Christmas and New Year just us, no family, taken as a team. It feels so natural now to be with him that I hardly think about time at all. There is something wonderful, though, about marking this amount of time. The time we have known each other. The time we have learned about each other. The time we have been together.
In my little gratitude book, I wrote reflections yesterday on the year and what I had taken from it. Without question, this is a year in which I feel I have learned more than ever before.
This has been the year I found safety. I found love. I found understanding. I found these things for myself. I found them when I found myself. I found healing. I allowed someone to see me as I truly am and always was — unapologetically me.
He has allowed me to be me. That is what I am reflecting on now, with deep and genuine gratitude. Gratitude for finding my best friend, my life partner, and for entering our second year together.
I am grateful for the unconditional love and friendship the universe bestowed on me when I met my best friend. There have been times that truly tested us both. In those moments, we grew stronger because we found the space, the time, and the capacity to listen, to hear, to understand, and simply to be.
The foundations we have built in the difficult times have made us a stronger couple in the good ones. We have learned more about each other, and about ourselves, than either of us ever thought possible. I believe now that we are the most authentic versions of ourselves.
So authentic that even when I have moments of unfilteredness, I allow myself far more kindness. These slips — malapropisms, overshares, absurdities — sometimes tumble out accidentally, and I meet them with grace.
Without ever realising it, we both discovered what home truly means.
I had always thought home was just four walls — a place where I felt safely held and totally seen. In truth, home is where your heart is. It is having that one person with whom you can be completely yourself and feel totally safe and secure.
On this first day of the new year, my realisation is this: this year I will try not to set so many goals or lofty ambitions. Instead, I will keep things simple. Keep things small. Keep things close.
I will try not to overcomplicate. I will try to stay true to what feels good and what feels right.
Today, when I light my candle and sit to meditate, when I think about what I hope to achieve, one thing is clear: first and foremost, I will be thankful.
I always am.
My meditation process begins and ends with this:
I thank you, and I am grateful for all that has gone before.
I thank you, and I am grateful for all that I have now and exactly where I am.
I thank you for everything that is coming to me.
The abundance that is unseen. The abundance that will be.
I thank you.
Please let me be of service.
You have given me a second chance, and now I feel ready to step up.
To step up and truly be.
What will be, will be, and I will be whatever you ask of me — because I am always grateful for this second chance.