Even When It Didn’t Feel Like It
This time of year can feel especially tender when your family has been through a lot. The holiday cards start arriving, filled with vacation photos, achievement stories, and updates about kids who seem to be thriving. You’re genuinely happy for those families. But if you’re honest, it also hurts a little. Because that may not be your story right now.
Your year might have looked nothing like what you’d hoped for last January. Maybe you spent it navigating crises, advocating harder than you ever imagined you’d have to, or simply trying to keep your child safe and connected. Maybe you’re exhausted in a way that sleep doesn’t quite fix. And when you look back at the past twelve months, it might be tempting to focus only on what went wrong, what didn’t work, or what you’re still worried about.
I want to gently push back on that.
Not because I’m going to tell you to ‘look on the bright side’ or pretend things weren’t hard. They were hard. You lived it. But because I think there might be small wins hidden in your year, wins you haven’t given yourself permission to acknowledge yet. Wins that deserve to be seen.
Why Small Wins Matter (Especially in Hard Years)
When you’re supporting a child through a difficult mental health period, every step forward can feel like it comes with enormous effort. The wins don’t always look like wins to the outside world. They’re often invisible, exhausting, and slow. But that doesn’t make them any less real.
The truth is, what counts as a ‘small’ win is entirely relative. For one family, making it through the first semester of school might feel routine. For a family dealing with school refusal, getting their child through the door even once a week is monumental. For some, finding a therapist feels like checking a box. For others, it’s the result of months of searching, failed referrals, and countless phone calls.
In reality, when you’re in the thick of these challenges, even if a win feels ‘small,’ they are actually huge because they’re so hard to come by. And they all deserve recognition, whether they’re external milestones (like securing an IEP or getting your child to a therapy appointment) or internal shifts (like learning how to validate your child’s feelings or staying calmer during a difficult moment).
What a Win Might Look Like
Maybe this year you:
- Scheduled that first therapy appointment after putting it off for months
- Finally found a therapist who seems like a good fit (after trying several who weren’t)
- Got through one appointment without your child melting down
- Recognized your child needed a break and gave it to them without drowning in guilt
- Completed an evaluation that had been on your list forever
- Received a diagnosis that, while overwhelming, helped things finally make sense
- Learned a new way to validate your child, and saw it actually help in a moment of crisis
- Stayed calm during a hard conversation when six months ago you would have lost it
- Convinced your child to go to school one day when they desperately didn’t want to
- Advocated for your child in a meeting and didn’t back down
- Asked for help (and actually accepted it)
Or maybe the win is even quieter than that. Maybe it’s the moment your child looked at you with something close to gratitude, not in words, but in a glance or a soft ‘thanks’ or the way they let you sit near them when they were struggling. Those moments are easy to miss because so much of what you do happens behind the scenes, in the middle of the night, in the privacy of your own worry. But when you catch even the smallest sign that your child knows you’re fighting for them, hold onto it. Because there are plenty of other times when they’re struggling, and you become the target of their anxiety, frustration, and anger.
And sometimes, the win is simply you.
You got out of bed on the hardest days. You showed up, even when you didn’t know what to do. You kept trying. You loved your child through the messiest, most painful parts. You held your family together in ways that no one else will ever fully see or understand.
None of this will make it into a holiday letter. These aren’t the glossy updates people share. But these moments matter, the ones that shape who you are as a parent and who your family is becoming.
Moving Into the New Year
You don’t need big resolutions or ambitious plans. A new year is simply an opening, a chance to keep going, one step at a time, in whatever way works for you and your family.
If you’re looking for a little more structure or support to help you feel steadier as you move forward, my Overwhelmed to Organized guide might be helpful. It’s not about doing everything perfectly. It’s about taking small, manageable steps to sort through what matters most right now.
A Reflection Exercise (Just for You)
Before the year ends, I want to invite you to spend a few quiet minutes reflecting on what went right. Not to dismiss the hard parts, but to give yourself permission to acknowledge your own strength.
Find a quiet moment, maybe after the kids are in bed, or during a morning coffee, or whenever you can carve out a few minutes. Write down two or three things that went right this year. They don’t need to be big.
Here are some prompts to help you find them:
- What helped you get through a particularly hard day?
- Where did you show strength you didn’t know you had?
- How did you show up for your child in a way that really mattered?
- What’s one moment you want to remember, even if it felt small at the time?
- What did you learn about your child or yourself this year?
- What’s something you did that you’re proud of, even if no one else noticed?
If you have a partner, consider sharing your reflections with each other. This can be surprisingly powerful. You might discover that what felt like a win to you looked different to them, and that’s okay. Or you might be reminded of wins that you did not think of, but your partner noticed. In fact, it can be eye-opening to see how you each experienced the year. Saying these things out loud, in a quiet moment together, can give you both strength as you step into the new year.
One Last Thing
Your year doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. Your wins are yours, and that is all that matters.
The effort you put in mattered.
Your steady presence mattered.
And you’re allowed to feel proud of the work you did to support your child, even if it doesn’t feel like ‘enough’ some days.
As you move into the new year, I hope you can carry these small wins with you. Not as proof that everything is fixed or that the hard parts are over, but as reminders that you’re doing something extraordinary, even when it doesn’t feel that way.
You’re not alone in this.
Laurie