Not everyone ends the year on a win – and that is okay
ESSAY
Delphina Muleke
It’s that time of year again when the countdowns begin, resolutions resurface and timelines fill with highlights. Graduation caps tossed in the air, promotions celebrated over cocktails, business launches, weddings, vacations,and captions like “What a year!”
But here’s an overlooked truth: not everyone ends the year on a high. Some of us are just trying to make it to the finish line without falling apart.
And that’s okay.
We don’t talk enough about the people who are closing the year without a sense of accomplishment. The ones who feel more exhausted than excited, more drained than determined. It’s not because they didn’t try, but because sometimes, effort doesn’t look like trophies. It looks like surviving.
There are young people who’ve spent the year job-hunting relentlessly, showing up for interviews with hope in their eyes and rejection in their inboxes. They’ve rehearsed, rewritten CVs, networked, prayed and still, no offer.
There are students who gave it their all but didn’t graduate. Professionals who worked overtime and still faced job losses. Creatives who felt uninspired. Entrepreneurs who closed businesses instead of launching new ones. And individuals who were simply dealing with life, illness, grief, mental health, financial pressure or just trying to stay afloat in an unforgiving economy.
Where are their end-of-year posts?
We’re constantly told to “finish strong,” as though the year is a race and the only acceptable way to cross the line is in a sprint. But what if some of us are limping, crawling, clinging to whatever is left of our energy?
What if strength isn’t about ending the year strong but with honesty and with enough courage to say: “This year was hard. I did what I could. And that is enough.”
The past three years have taught me that survival is an achievement.
If you kept showing up while feeling overwhelmed, that’s a win. If you allowed yourself to rest instead of burning out, that’s a win. If you protected your peace, let go of toxic people, healed privately, or simply made it through one hard day after another, that matters.
Not all growth is visible. Not all victories are loud.
Some of the most important progress we make happens in silence, without applause, without a “like” button. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is keep going, especially when no one is watching.
Let’s also say this plainly: employees are tired. Many have carried workloads far beyond their job descriptions while battling personal stress behind the scenes. And yet, in some workplaces, rest is still treated as laziness, and fatigue is seen as a weakness.
If you’re in a leadership role, offer your team compassion. Acknowledge the toll of the year. Burnout doesn’t reset on January 1st; rather, it irritates if ignored. People work harder for leaders who recognise their humanity.
You don’t need a highlight reel to prove your worth. You don’t owe anyone a perfect ending to your year.
If all you’ve done is survive, that is already something to be proud of.
Take a moment to breathe, to rest and to acknowledge how much you’ve carried. The pressure to be “winning” all the time is unrealistic and unfair. Life has seasons, and sometimes the season is simply about endurance.
You’ll have your time to bloom again. But for now, if you’re just making it through quietly, imperfectly, tenderly, you are still moving forward.
And that matters.
*Delphina Muleke is a brand strategist, blogger, proofreader and writer.
**Originally published in November, we are reprinting this thoughtful essay because its message is particularly timely at this time of the year.
It’s that time of year again when the countdowns begin, resolutions resurface and timelines fill with highlights. Graduation caps tossed in the air, promotions celebrated over cocktails, business launches, weddings, vacations,and captions like “What a year!”
But here’s an overlooked truth: not everyone ends the year on a high. Some of us are just trying to make it to the finish line without falling apart.
And that’s okay.
We don’t talk enough about the people who are closing the year without a sense of accomplishment. The ones who feel more exhausted than excited, more drained than determined. It’s not because they didn’t try, but because sometimes, effort doesn’t look like trophies. It looks like surviving.
There are young people who’ve spent the year job-hunting relentlessly, showing up for interviews with hope in their eyes and rejection in their inboxes. They’ve rehearsed, rewritten CVs, networked, prayed and still, no offer.
There are students who gave it their all but didn’t graduate. Professionals who worked overtime and still faced job losses. Creatives who felt uninspired. Entrepreneurs who closed businesses instead of launching new ones. And individuals who were simply dealing with life, illness, grief, mental health, financial pressure or just trying to stay afloat in an unforgiving economy.
Where are their end-of-year posts?
We’re constantly told to “finish strong,” as though the year is a race and the only acceptable way to cross the line is in a sprint. But what if some of us are limping, crawling, clinging to whatever is left of our energy?
What if strength isn’t about ending the year strong but with honesty and with enough courage to say: “This year was hard. I did what I could. And that is enough.”
The past three years have taught me that survival is an achievement.
If you kept showing up while feeling overwhelmed, that’s a win. If you allowed yourself to rest instead of burning out, that’s a win. If you protected your peace, let go of toxic people, healed privately, or simply made it through one hard day after another, that matters.
Not all growth is visible. Not all victories are loud.
Some of the most important progress we make happens in silence, without applause, without a “like” button. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is keep going, especially when no one is watching.
Let’s also say this plainly: employees are tired. Many have carried workloads far beyond their job descriptions while battling personal stress behind the scenes. And yet, in some workplaces, rest is still treated as laziness, and fatigue is seen as a weakness.
If you’re in a leadership role, offer your team compassion. Acknowledge the toll of the year. Burnout doesn’t reset on January 1st; rather, it irritates if ignored. People work harder for leaders who recognise their humanity.
You don’t need a highlight reel to prove your worth. You don’t owe anyone a perfect ending to your year.
If all you’ve done is survive, that is already something to be proud of.
Take a moment to breathe, to rest and to acknowledge how much you’ve carried. The pressure to be “winning” all the time is unrealistic and unfair. Life has seasons, and sometimes the season is simply about endurance.
You’ll have your time to bloom again. But for now, if you’re just making it through quietly, imperfectly, tenderly, you are still moving forward.
And that matters.
*Delphina Muleke is a brand strategist, blogger, proofreader and writer.
**Originally published in November, we are reprinting this thoughtful essay because its message is particularly timely at this time of the year.



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