Year ends have a way of throwing you into the emotional mixer.  The annual wave of goodbye, through feelings of satisfaction or relief, brings forth the rush of excitement for what the new year may hold – with daunted trepidation toward new beginnings roused by fears from the past.  

New years are fresh and unwritten but negative forecasts lay a foundation of false defeat.  

Drawing near to the end of 2015 I found myself dispirited and lethargic with life and everything that was once my goal.  I didn’t know what I wanted anymore, and everything I once enjoyed felt pointless, passionless and stagnant.  2015 had not been my year.

I think it’s easy to fall into this trap of high expectation and reality.  Sometimes I feel like I’m riding the bumpy track of a rollercoaster, in contrast to the days I’m moving no further forward than I am back.  If life isn’t throwing arrows at you, you’re stuck in the mud.

The way life has been this last year has proved my biggest test yet, and in some ways I’m continuing into the new year with the same worries.  I can easily and quite rightly allow myself the right to wallow and wane.  I have lost a lot and face losing more.  Life has been an arsehole.  But thinking about moving forward, dragging old fears and negativity gets me no where, and no strength can be drawn from pessimism.

So I’ve decided to continue slogging away at life by rediscovering the passions I once had before it was swamped by grief.  I’m going to get myself fit again, concentrate on being the best version of me.  New years are about second chances and picking myself up and persevering is what life’s all about – come rain or shine.

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I’m now entering my 5th year with this blog and I’d love you to stick around with me for another year of life and lingerie.