For a lot of people, a new year feels electric. Fresh planners. New goals. Big dreams. The feeling that you can start over, do better, be better.
And honestly? I feel that, too.
But when you live with autoimmune disease—when flares, uncertainty, and the anxiety that follows are part of your everyday reality—the new year isn’t just exciting. It’s complicated.
Because alongside the desire to dream big is the quiet, familiar weight of your diagnosis.
You remember the plans that had to be canceled. The days your body didn’t cooperate. The seasons when survival took more energy than thriving ever could. You want to believe in fresh starts… but you also know how quickly “normal” can change.
So how do you balance that?
How do you hold hope without setting yourself up for disappointment?
How do you plan for a future when your body doesn’t always give you a clear forecast?
Some years, I’ve tried to pretend my illness didn’t exist. I made ambitious plans, packed my calendar, told myself this will be the year I push through. And sometimes that worked—until it didn’t. Until my body reminded me that ignoring reality isn’t the same as being strong.
Other years, I’ve gone the opposite direction. I lowered the bar so far that I barely allowed myself to hope at all. No big goals. No dreams that felt risky. Just get through the year.
But here’s what I’m slowly learning: neither extreme actually brings peace.
Maybe the balance isn’t choosing between dreaming and being realistic.
Maybe it’s choosing both.
It’s allowing yourself to want more—while also honoring the limits your body may place on you. It’s setting goals with open hands instead of clenched fists. It’s saying, “This is what I hope for… but I will also give myself grace if my body has other plans.”
That isn’t weakness. That’s wisdom earned the hard way.
Living with chronic illness teaches you something most people don’t learn until much later: tomorrow is never guaranteed, and “doing nothing” can sometimes be the bravest thing you do. Rest is not failure. Adjusting is not quitting. And surviving a hard season is just as worthy as achieving a milestone.
If you’re stepping into this new year feeling torn—wanting to dream but afraid to hope too much—you are not alone.
You are not negative for acknowledging your limits.
You are not lazy for needing rest.
You are not broken because your life doesn’t follow a neat, predictable timeline.
Your story still matters. Your life still holds purpose. And your dreams are not invalid just because they may look different than you once imagined.
Maybe this year isn’t about proving how much you can do.
Maybe it’s about learning how to live well—even here.
About choosing progress over perfection.
About celebrating the small wins.
About letting joy exist alongside uncertainty.
And maybe, just maybe, hope doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic to be real.
Sometimes hope is simply whispering:
I’m still here. I’m still trying. And that is enough for today.
If this new year feels exciting for you—celebrate that.
If it feels heavy, uncertain, or complicated—you are seen.
You don’t have to choose between dreaming and surviving.
You can hold both.
Straight Outta My Mind 