2024

When you were younger, how did your family measure growth? Was it graphite on a door jamb, your name rising like a ladder until your father could no longer reach the top? Was it a collection of albums, filled with pictures of memories you wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for your mother’s thoughtfulness preserving those moments for you and your siblings? Is it the box of home videos quietly collecting dust in the attic you’ve been afraid to go into since a family member died? Does it matter how we measure it though? The thought made me curious, inspiring more questions like a simple thing, a thought, can do. Why did we stop measuring our growth? When did we stop displaying it, showing it, being proud of it? 

In true fashion, I felt the urge to write during this holiday season and figured it would be super cool to compile the highlights of the last year so that I could look back, reflect, and admire how far I’ve come. Then, I thought ‘why wouldn’t I share it with people so they can see it too?’ 

At the start of this year, I started telling my friends that this was going to be my year of arrogance. I started navigating life with the sense that I was great at everything I did and that I could do anything I wanted to. It was tricky at first, trying to navigate the pressure of not exuding arrogance (that thin line it straddles between confidence was delicately toed) while still maintaining those ideas. By May, I had realized that I had a renewed sense of intuition, and was slowly learning how to discern situations for myself, without the added pressure of worry. What was I worrying about? How other people perceived me. Something I’ve learned this year is that other people’s perception of me is none of my business! Do you know how freeing it is, to understand that how the people around me view me holds no weight over how I view myself? 

That opened up a door of critiquing my inner monologue. What am I telling myself and does it align with who I am trying to become? Am I showing up in the world as the person I want to be? Can I change self-deprecating thoughts and how is that going to change how I interact with the world? The beautiful thing about life is that, once you learn how to ask these questions (and, more importantly, sit with them) you get to act on them. We are not stagnant beings and our growth can and absolutely should be measured and shared. So, if you’re curious, supportive, or just plain nosey, here’s what I’ve been up to this past year—a pause for growth, reflection, and some of the things I’ve learned along the way.

When I tried to make an outline that mapped out my last year, I felt a bit discouraged. What do I have to show for the work I did? What can I share to show that I accomplished these monumental goals when they’re not quite ready to be shared with the world? I realized then that the beauty of ‘new years’ comes in the work we did in the past—the choices we make in the year prior often carry over and influence how we navigate the new path in front of us.

At the end of 2023, I came across a clip of Maya Elious asking her community how much they were willing to invest in themselves and what they were passionate about bringing to the world. That question stuck with me, and it pushed me to make one of the best decisions I’ve ever made: hiring a writing coach.

Now, it’s 2024. Admittedly, hopping onto a website that’s basically Craigslist for writers was a gamble, but, by some miracle, the very first inquiry I sent connected me with Nancy—a coach who has been instrumental in my growth this past year. At the time, I had written about 50,000 words and desperately needed someone to tell me if it was good or, to be blunt, complete shit. A year later, I can confidently say that working with Nancy was the right choice.

Not only did my writing improve, but my ability to string words together (while focusing on both the big and small aspects of storytelling) flourished. In our first session, Nancy asked me what level of critique I needed—did I want her to hold my hand while we dismantled my drafts, or did she have free rein to be as direct as possible? A small, fragile part of me wanted to whisper, “Please hold me,” but I knew that wouldn’t help me grow. Giving her the freedom to critique honestly (without the fear of hurting my feelings) allowed us to fall into a rhythm that pushed me to be better with every session.

Of course, growth didn’t come without sacrifice. I was paying for these sessions out of pocket, which meant saying no to certain adventures and yes to long hours glued to my laptop, untangling plot holes and wondering if I was the most boring 24-year-old alive (probably not, I did just write a book, after all). But through it all, I learned to stop comparing my life to others and to appreciate the one I have. I remember being young, my best friend and I whispering dreams between each other. How beautiful is it that her dream has come true? And now, a new dream has taken root, and I’m ready to put in the work to make it real.

As a full-time nanny, I needed to work these sessions around my work schedule in order to accommodate both the job I have now and the job I want. I’m always so amazed by the grace and excitement my employers have extended me—their interest and dedication to seeing my book come to fruition showed me how little it costs to participate in someone else’s joy. Their quiet support has been so grounding and I will always be thankful for the hours spent, tucked into the corner of their couch, frantically typing during nap time. 

While I did spend a lot of time working on this novel (I want to share everything about it but I think it’s so good that you’re going to have to wait), I was able to take an amazing trip back home with a close friend and her daughter. This trip solidified how much I prefer road trips over airplanes (I know, talk about a need for control). There’s something so freeing about being able to get out of the car and explore an area you had no intention of being in (and it’s how we found the Jolly Green Giant on our way to Montana).

We conquered the midwest and drove through a decent portion of Montana and Wyoming on our adventures, and I will always be grateful for the chance to show my beautiful home state to the people in my life. A fun thing I noticed is how my body reacts differently to the air while walking. We spent a day in Yellowstone and, on our hike, we sounded like the wheeziest trio of humans to ever meander through the geyser trails. The altitude differences in St. Louis and Montana are substantial and leaving the balmy, humid spring of the city in May, and jumping into a true mountain spring was almost comical. 

It was a nine day trip that graced us with the Tetons, Yellowstone, the drive from Bozeman to Lewistown, Glacier, and so many different, beautiful stops along the way. It will always make me happy when someone comments on how big the sky feels.

I also finished crocheting a blanket! How cool, completing two big things in a year. I’ve always been great (phenomenal, you might say) at starting things, but it’s the pesky business of finishing that tends to get in my way. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many projects have waited around my apartment for me to finish, bursts of creativity that lay waiting for me to find interest in them again. Finishing isn’t a small feat and I’m so proud of myself for getting to a place where I knew I could. (I would include a picture of the blanket but, in all honesty, the pictures are an injustice to the beauty of it. Guess you’ll have to come visit for the visual confirmation)

I finished my manuscript at the beginning of this month and shipped it (via e-mail) to my editor/coach on the west coast. It has been a brutal three weeks of waiting for news (come on, tell me if it sucks Nancy! Just tell me if it sucks!) and, honestly, I think I deserve a gold star for the amount of restraint I’m showing. While nerve-racking, I know that her deliberate approach to our sessions in the last year will translate to my manuscript and ultimately help me in the long run. I just simultaneously wish that I could’ve slept through the entire six week period rather than subjecting myself to the most insane mental torment ever. Now, coaching and editing are not the cheapest avenues to pursue as a 24 year-old and I have taken to comparing it to paying for a year of a college class. With that being said, if you’d like to help a writer keep chasing her dreams, my Venmo is @klane53 and my CashApp is @klane53. I would be so thankful and will make sure your name finds a home in the acknowledgments (I swear you’ll be there).

As I try wrapping up my thoughts, I realize that the biggest thing for me in the past year was to finish: start the manuscript and finish it, plan the road trip and execute it, start the blanket and see it through. It sounds simple but I swear my brain is a 2001 Microsoft desktop, an indefinite amount of tabs open (frozen on the screen) while the tower at your feet is making that strange whirring sound. Being able to see these things through is just a reminder that small steps are still steps. If it wasn’t for the first sentences and first stitches of the world, where would any of us be? My growth this year is woven into 100,000 words, and 40,000 stitches. It’s hidden in the smile, free and unflinching, that pulls onto my face when I go to work in the morning. It’s shown in the pause I take before arguing and the way I’ve turned to processing grief.

There were plenty of wins and losses this year, too many to waste your time with here. But the point is that I’m going into this new year, holding onto the big ones and using that momentum to get me through whatever comes next. I hope that, as you read this, you think back on the year that you had and you appreciate the challenges and obstacles that contributed to your growth—the small steps you took to better yourself. I’m proud of who I am at the end of 2024 and I know that I’m only going to keep learning and growing. I hope you can say the same :)

Love,

Kristen, Kaye, and every version of her that has yet to come