End-of-year journalling prompts for the anti-girlboss
Less numbers, more feelings
Season’s greetings! Many of you recently joined us following this recent post sharing my slow business manifesto—thanks for being here <3
Anti-girlbosses, this one’s for you…
The end of a year can be a strange time—especially on the internet.
Some people like to go out with a bang. 2024 “wins”, sage listicles of life lessons learned, habits “wrapped”, the passing of time quantified into cute little slideshows and glossy photo albums.
Then there’s the rest of us. For whom 2024 was less a year of “wins”, and more of a weird and winding road. Whose energy reserves are too depleted for small talk with strangers. Who may find the holidays more melancholy than merry.
The mess
Personally, December always leaves me feeling exhausted. Most of it passes in a haze of work deadlines, booze-fuelled social plans, and the inevitable colds that ensue from too much alcohol and too little sleep.
By the time I go home for Christmas, I’m too wiped out to really enjoy it. And that’s always the kicker with Christmas, isn’t it? The pressure to be having fun, to be celebrating, when for many of us—whether because we’re knackered, we’re grieving, or simply because it’s bloody cold and dark outside—that’s the last thing we feel like doing.
This year, I didn’t so much decide as was forced to do things differently. A bout of food poisoning in mid-December turned what would have been a marathon of social plans and Christmas parties into a week of rest and dry toast, then zero per cent beer and 9pm curfews when I did eventually make it out. Last weekend, I spent three days in the Welsh countryside, lighting log fires and stewing in a hot tub.
While work has still been the usual sprint to the finish line (as much as I advocate for slow business, taking two weeks off as a freelancer is no mean feat), it’s interesting to notice how a little hermiting has dramatically increased my window of tolerance—something I want to take into future years.
Because who decided December would be the perfect time for enforced cheer, anyway? (Organised religion, that’s who)
Make it make sense
Of course, we don’t feel like staying out late when it gets dark at 3pm. Donning sparkly dresses and spindly heels is counterintuitive and counterproductive when it’s cold and slippery outside. It’s painful to feign interest in someone else’s Christmas shopping when we’d rather be curled up on the sofa watching Bad Sisters.
Also, I’m going to say it: mulled wine is shit.
Now, lest you accuse me of being a Scrooge, I do like aspects of Christmas: picking out gifts for the people I love, cooking and catching up over good food, peering in at the twinkling fairy lights lining living room windows along the street where I live.
But the older I get, the more I want to take the pressure off. If I’m a bit burnt out, I don’t need a night out. If I’m feeling the void left by loss, I need to remind myself that the whole damn affair is merely a capitalist scam—and give myself permission to miss my Dad’s haphazard Christmas stockings anyway.
The work
Sometimes, I think we’re better off ditching the “festive” season for a more reflective season.
Winter is a good time to give in to our body’s natural wisdom, and allow ourselves to check out from everyday life for a bit. A retreat inwards to honour however we’re feeling—whether it’s taking stock of what the past year has taught us (and publishing that listicle!), giving in to our grief, or switching our brains off entirely.
That’s why I say sometimes—I’m also aware that trying to be mindful or reflective can be another kind of pressure. Maybe, you need to substitute “reflective” with “reclining”.
But if, like me, your kind of mulling involves lots of alone time, rambling walks, and bad poems about frosty mornings and naked trees, I thought I’d share some journalling prompts from a workshop I hosted earlier this week.
Slow business journalling prompts to reflect on 2024
When you’re self-employed, the festive season can feel more like the frantic season. Either you’re wrapping up lots of work (not to mention the presents), or you’re already hustling to book in clients for the New Year. Many of us will be doing both at once.
With no one to organise a retrospective or Christmas party for us, it’s easy for one year to bleed into the next, without taking the time to stop and think—from simply reminding yourself of what you actually did in 2024 (surprisingly easy to forget as freelancer), to reflecting more deeply on what felt good or what didn’t.
So this year, I decided to host a journalling workshop to help fellow freelancers and business owners (and tbh, myself) carve out an hour to look back on 2024, and start to think about 2025.
Not in an MRR/profit/likes on LinkedIn kinda way, but in a really thinking about your thoughts, feelings and identity as a freelancer kind of way.
These prompts were designed with self-employed people in mind, but most are pretty universal, so tweak them to suit your needs as you see fit. And remember, there’s no right or wrong way to journal: scribble on the back of an envelope, build a complex spreadsheet, send yourself a voice note—whatever feels most helpful to you.
1. What does working for yourself mean to you?
Write your own definition/declaration of independence.
e.g. Working for myself means....
Write down all the projects and clients you worked on this year.
Remind yourself what you did!
You could also think about working for yourself allow you to do outside of work, e.g. travelling, spending time with loved ones, looking after your health, watching Legally Blonde, etc.
What brought you a sense of purpose?
Was it working on something with a positive social impact? A project that really let your unique skills and experience shine? What does “purpose” mean to you?
Where did you grow?
Was it learning a new skill? Working in a different industry? Choosing to work less?
What drained you?
Demanding clients? Tight deadlines? Scope creep? Chasing invoices?
When did you follow your intuition?
Whether it was a “hell NO” or a “hell YES”, when did you listen to that voice, feeling or sensation?
When were you driven by stress or fear?
Perhaps a scarcity mindset drove you to accept a project that wasn’t quite aligned, or you were too busy to properly think through a decision.
What do you feel most proud of?
From a creative project to a personal boundary, take a moment to appreciate yourself.
How close were you to your declaration of independence?
Look back at your answer to question one—how did you honour your definition this year?
What would you like to start, stop or keep doing next year?
How might the insights and themes you’ve noticed guide you moving forwards?
Thank you for reading Messy Work in 2024 🥹
Alongside my work as a coach, this Substack has been a huge source of joy, creativity, authenticity, vulnerability, connection, occasional frustration, and pride for me this year.
So while I may or may not publish another post before the year ends, I just wanted to say thank you for being part of The Journey™️.
As someone who’s spent many years hiding my voice behind work for brands, it means so much that you’re here to read my words. My only intention was to make it to the end of this year having posted every other week, so the fact that I’ve picked up a few hundred subscribers along the way is truly magical.
Also, if you’re a fellow independent spirit who’s chosen a career/life path that diverges from the corporate 9-5, I want to take a moment to celebrate you.
I’ve been told by several seasoned freelancers that 2024 was one of the toughest years yet. So, whether you’re ending on a high or can’t wait for it to end, in the words of Elle Woods, we did it.
Wishing you a restful break and a gentle New Year. If these prompts brought up any reflections you’d like to share, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
About me + Messy Work
If you’re new here, I’m Lucia, a freelance copywriter, accredited career, creativity and life coach, and enthusiastic Substacker.
This newsletter is dedicated to making sense of, moving past and really celebrating the messy work of life through personal essays, coaching insights, and memes.
Please do muck in and say hi!
The most popular messes of 2024
To give you an idea of what to expect—and OK, I couldn’t resist a mini Substack wrapped—here are my top five most-read posts.
Acknowledging our humanness is precisely the point of slow business; rather than striving to become something or someone we’re not, it’s about accepting who we really are, and designing a life and career that honours that.
For all our agonising, a lot of us who worry about not being a good enough writer don’t stop to think about what “good” even means—or if we do, it’s a false picture (Parisian attics and all).
Confidence might not be something you can “build”. Unless it’s like the Leaning Tower of Pisa—structurally sound, but a little bit wobbly.
There’s plenty of content that will guide you through the practical and financial steps of going freelance. I’m not going to tell you information that’s already out there, nor do I want to be prescriptive about the “right” way to freelance—there isn’t one…Instead, I want to explore the considerations that will depend on you as a person, beyond your financial situation: what drives you, what scares you and what lights you up.
The problem is, falling out of love with your job is much like the waning of a relationship: it’s tempting to look for answers in everything—and everyone—but yourself.
1:1 coaching for recovering high achievers, creatives and independent spirits
One of the reasons I love journalling is that I’m always surprised by what comes out on the page—I uncover insights and stumble upon ideas that I wouldn’t have had I not taken the time to reflect. The same thing happens in coaching, with the added benefit of having someone else there to observe patterns, tease out breakthroughs, and bounce ideas off.
I’m officially launching my coaching business, More To Life, in 2025, with spaces open to a limited number of clients. If you’re curious to learn more before the waitlist opens, just drop me a message.