New year, old feelings
As I sit here today, witnessing the magical snow in Haarlem and getting back to work, I had to take a moment and reflect on my holiday and the shift I felt as I returned.
Let me be honest, I had an awesome break. I took more than two weeks off and went back to sunny South Africa to celebrate the holidays with my family. We had lots of barbecues and spent countless hours on the beach. I could truly relax and recharge. After a personally challenging year, I really needed that.
What stood out to me most was how much safer I felt in my own skin, even during moments that would usually feel triggering. I felt proud of the progress I made this year through weekly therapy, different forms of movement, and the new skills I have been developing through my coaching and counselling course as well as my work with clients. That, combined with a good dose of vitamin D and Iron from South Africa, gave me fresh hope and energy to start the year feeling stronger.
And then… within minutes of being back, I felt it.
I noticed how disconnected I suddenly felt from my partner. He seemed more depressed than a few hours earlier; I felt more anxious than I had felt on holiday. The familiar questions crept in: Will we be able to turn this around? Or is this the slow slip back into the abyss? Am I happy? Am I adding value? Am I financially secure?… the list goes on. My morning anxiety returned (after I’d convinced myself it was just reflux while I was away), and the Sunday scaries showed up clearly in my poor Garmin sleep score. What now? How do I stay on the wave I was so sure I’d ride all the way to summer (or at least March)?
It reminded me of something a client once shared: coming back from a break (or in her case, a burnout) can feel like finally managing to start a small fire — only to have strong winds hit it the moment you return. The fire isn’t gone, but now it needs protection, it needs you to show up for it to grow.
Some practical things I’m focusing on as I take on 2026
Understanding when I need to rest: In the past, I often mistook exhaustion for hunger, a coffee craving, or a sign that I needed to do more. I’m learning that a nap is often far better for my nervous system than any of those coping mechanisms. Rest isn’t laziness — it’s compassion and understanding what my body needs to show up at its best.
Eating more fruits and vegetables as snacks: The Glucose Goddess might not approve, but I get hungry quite often. Focusing on lower-calorie whole foods (alongside some Rooibos tea) helps me stay energised and focused between meals. I used to believe every snack needed protein and fats (mostly to counter the effects of that third coffee), but I’m experimenting with keeping things lighter and only having up to two coffees a day.
Creating more moments of connection: So far in 2026, this has looked like organising a long run with my friends (with some well deserved Dutch pancakes afterwards), intentionally renting a movie for my partner and me to watch instead of endlessly scrolling, playing board games like Scrabble or Clever, building puzzles, misplacing my phone more often, and bringing meals back to the table.
We used to eat all our meals together at the table, which eventually put pressure on our relationship. We’re learning to find a better balance between eating on the couch and sitting down properly. It’s also worth noting that we both work from home about 90% of the time — which is a lot of meals staring at the same person (jokes).
Movement as a non-negotiable investment: I love exercise, and I move my body in many different ways each week: yoga, barre, running, swimming (and soon cycling again). Each offers something different. Yoga offers me grounding, barre brings joy and feminine energy, running connects me socially through the Haarlem Hobblers, and cycling has become a summer Saturday ritual. Movement helps me regulate, process, and reconnect — with myself and with others. Movement might look different for everyone. For some it might be a short walk, for others it could be light stretching.
A client once described this as finally listening to her body’s natural rhythms again after a long period of ignoring them. That really stuck with me.
Taking care of myself: I’ve been wondering whether silent reflux might be affecting my sleep, and there are several parts of my body that desperately need physical therapy — something I plan to invest in properly this year. Caring for my body is compassion in action, and it’s also a basic human need. For too many years, I negotiated my health away, and I’m now dealing with the consequences.
My therapist is going on extended leave this year. To support myself during this period, I’ve arranged monthly sessions with a stand-in therapist and started working with a coach who can help me with more practical challenges while she’s away. I will also double down on spending more one-on-one time with my best friends for additional emotional support during this time.
Looking ahead
As I look ahead, I notice that I do have some intentions for this year — but I’m holding them more lightly than I might have in the past. I’d like to continue growing my coaching practice, with the hope of reaching the number of paid sessions needed for ICF accreditation. Alongside that, I’ll be enrolling in supervision sessions and working with more test clients as part of my second-year specialisation at the Academy of Coaching and Counseling. I’ll also continue improving my Dutch as I prepare for my naturalisation assessments.
In June, I’m planning to take part in my second Ironman 70.3. This time, the focus isn’t just on finishing, but on facing a fear of swimming — something I avoided last time by competing in a team. It feels meaningful, and also a little scary. I know that if I’m going to get there in a way that feels sustainable, I’ll need to keep returning to the practical anchors I mentioned earlier, and allow myself to slow down when needed.
Re-entering life after a holiday can feel like moving a precious greenhouse flower back into a windy garden. The growth is real — but without boundaries, care, and nourishment, it’s fragile. This year, I’m paying more attention to what helps protect that growth, rather than assuming it will hold on its own. Sometimes that means asking for support (through therapy, coaching, or other forms of guidance) to help build the tools needed to navigate the bad weather.
If any of this resonates with you, or if you’re curious about what coaching might offer you right now, you’re very welcome to book a free intro call with me. I offer corporate coaching packages, as well as discounted options for private clients.
Much love,
Adél
