I’m definitely not alone when I say 2025 was a whole host of things. Not great. Five 2020s in a trench coat. A dumpster fire. A real bitch.

But it wasn’t all terrible, no matter what else happened. There were pockets of good, and I tried really hard to be nicer to myself. Here are five specific ways I worked at being kind to me.

I stopped giving myself arbitrary wakeup times.

I’ve always been a night owl trapped in a morning person’s world.

Back in college, I deliberately took 8am classes when my classmates were doing everything they could to make sure their classes didn’t start until afternoon.

I knew just enough about myself at that point to know that if I absolutely HAD to get out of bed to go to class, then I’d be awake and the rest of the day would be mine to study, work, and do whatever else I had to do.

Without that THING making me get up? I wouldn’t.

Ever since, I’ve almost always had that THING, whatever it was, that made me get up early and be a morning person. But it’s been getting harder and harder. Then my husband retired, and he wasn’t getting up early. I didn’t have to, either.

And all of a sudden, I couldn’t make myself wake up before 11am for anything on the planet. I think there are other things at play here, but a lifetime of ignoring my own chronotype for the most part is a big part of it.

At first, I was really worried about my later wakeup times and I was trying to force myself to do things my body wasn’t willing to do.

Eventually…I stopped trying to bludgeon myself into a mold that no longer fit. It turns out, I need a lot of rest right now, so I’m doing what I can to honor that need for my body.

I stopped worrying about what I was eating and drinking.

Diets don’t work. They just don’t.

Sure, lots of people lose weight by dieting, but I’m telling you. They don’t work.

And for someone like me, with PCOS and CKD and all sorts of other stuff going on that I’m still trying to figure out?

Dieting really doesn’t work.

People with PCOS are far more likely to develop eating disorders than people without PCOS, not that anyone is immune from this issue. And what I have found over the years is that if I try to restrict myself, I will just stop eating.

Nothing passes the “purity test” eventually and I just don’t eat. Or I can’t figure out what is “safe” to eat, so even though my body is crying out for nutrients, I’ll go a whole day without eating, because nothing is “right.”

There are other issues there, including sensory difficulties. But the reality is that I’m not overeating. That’s not why I’m fat. And the few treats that I eat now and again aren’t enough to make me fat, either.

So, to avoid slipping into that area of disordered eating that can be so familiar for me, I’m not restricting what I eat or drink. I might think hard about it before I do it, though.
A few weeks ago, I wanted a soda in the worst way. And at first, I told myself that with chronic kidney disease, I can’t have soda anymore. You know what that does, though.

Once you tell yourself you can’t have something at all, that’s what you want more than anything. So, the next time I wanted a soda, I asked myself why. I wanted the flavor, but I was also missing that bite from the bubbles. You know the one.

So I had one. Nobody died, nobody took away my birthday, and after the first few sips, I was like, meh. Because it wasn’t as great as what my brain kept saying it was.
I haven’t wanted a soda since, really, but if I do, I’ll have a few sips. That might be all my brain wants. A reminder that the idea was better than reality.

A good side effect from this? I’m more likely to eat something earlier in the day now, consistently. I know I’ll feel better. I know it will give my body the nutrients it needs, especially right now as I’m dealing with so much transition. And I’m rebuilding trust with my body after decades of beating it up.

I went to the doctor.

It had been almost a decade since I’d been to a doctor.

But back in August, I got hit with an allergy attack that really knocked me for a loop. And it left me with a cough that slipped my rib. That was a first.

So when I was still coughing in September, I knew it was time to find a doctor. I could finally get into their office in October, and I was still coughing, but not as bad. What was worse, though, was my breathing.

I got short of breath just sitting still.

This doctor was amazing, and I might go into all of this in more detail later. But she listened, she took some bloodwork, and we shared our boundaries with each other. There are some things that I want that she’ll only do if I meet her halfway on some other things, and that’s fair, honestly.

The next day I was fighting to wake up and I noticed I had a missed call and a message from their office. The doctor was letting me know that my bloodwork showed I was in stage 2 of CKD and that she had called in some medication for me.

I was floored. Also, I need to mention here that I’m aware stage 2 isn’t super horrible and that it’s very early in the staging to get a diagnosis.

I’m also aware now that quite a few of the symptoms I was dealing with, some that I hadn’t even mentioned to my doctor, were a big indicator that my kidneys weren’t functioning well.

Again, I’ll probably talk about this more later, but my kidneys love the medication and my body is super busy right now pulling fluid out of a lot of deep areas of my body. Especially around my lungs.

You know how I can tell that? I stopped coughing within a couple days of starting the meds and almost three months later, I can take a deep breath without pain.

Also, when I stopped taking the med after a week because I’d developed hives, all of my symptoms rushed back immediately. Restarting the med a couple of days after that resolved the symptoms. (Pretty sure now the hives were part of my system freaking out because of all the fluid redistribution going on.)

I started looking at what I can do, not what I can’t.

Over the past couple of years, I have gradually lost a lot of functionality. I didn’t notice it at first, but looking back, it’s painfully obvious.

There are a lot of things I stopped doing because I just couldn’t do them anymore. I didn’t have the energy, and I still don’t, for the most part.

But if I dwell on that, I’m going to really get stuck in the mud. So I’m focusing more on what I can do, what I’m regaining, and what I’m looking forward to doing once I’m feeling even better.

Because I’m letting myself sleep when I need to and when I can, I’m finding that some days are definitely better than others. When I’m having a hard day, I don’t push myself.

I’m doing the bare minimum now far more than ever before, but that’s okay. If I’m able to keep all the souls in my care going for one more day, then I’ve accomplished something. Still didn’t change the sheets or get the living room vacuumed? Welp.

There’s still tomorrow.

I’m practicing real self-compassion.

I’ve tried before to be compassionate with myself. It always ended up failing because who doesn’t demand more of themselves than they do of the people they love?

One of the things I’ve tried over the years is speaking to myself the way I would my best friend, but that didn’t stick.

See, I’m onto me. I know my tricks.

This past year, however, has taught me that genuine compassion for myself is absolutely necessary. Not pity, of course, but true self-compassion.

I’m dealing with a LOT. My husband has significant health issues. My mom is getting older. My furbabies are getting older. My own health issues have thrown me a big old curveball.

All of this is a lot for anyone to deal with. And it’s okay that I’m struggling. It’s okay that I’ve had to ask for help more often. And it’s okay that I’m frustrated at times with all of that.

I don’t have to stay in those feelings, though. Feelings are transient. They come, they go.

Recognizing the feelings, moving through them, letting them go…all of that helps me to clear the field and look at what is really under my own control. And lately that’s not a whole hell of a lot.

But I’m working on it.

So, there you have it.

The five ways I was nicer to myself this past year than I probably ever have been. I’m hoping to reap even bigger rewards from continuing to give myself grace and practicing self-compassion.

Is it easy? Of course not.

I’m still not performing to my own standards and wants more often than not. I’m letting people down at times. I’m letting myself down at times.

But I’m also operating within some very confined restraints that aren’t budging. My body and my brain can only do what they can do. I have to be okay with that for now and hope to see improvements soon.

It’s all part of trying to keep being the best zookeeper I can be, hitting as many of the marks as I can to improve enrichment, boost health, and maintain quality of life. I’m getting there.