You’re (Probably) Not a Terrible Person, and Neither am I (AKA My End of Year Reflections)

I’m not a consistent journaler, but as I was grabbing a notebook to draw out an idea I had today, I came across this note I jotted down earlier in the year:
“Am I a terrible person for being joyful while everything is on fire?”
Who knows what day I wrote it - I didn’t date it. (I have many type-B tendencies, if you didn’t know this about me, yet.) But it could’ve been a variety (majority, even) of days from 2025 – seriously, just pick one date in your mind and let’s say it was then.
This year was an absolute dumpster fire for so much of my country and our world.
This year was also one of the best years of my entire life, if not the best year. How could that possibly be?
Am I actually a terrible person? Reader: the answer is no, I’m not. And if you’ve asked yourself that same question, I would wager a guess that you’re not, either. (But I mean, who knows, maybe some of you are, idk. I just feel like if you’re choosing to read a grief blog, you’re at least working on not being such a terrible person, so I’d still wager that guess.)
The truth is not that I am laughing while the world burns. What’s actually been true in the past year is I’ve dug in locally and personally (hyper-locally) to make the biggest differences I can with the cards I’ve been dealt, and with what we’ve all been dealt.
I’ve learned over the years how to make some space for the immense amounts of pain I feel as a result of not only my own losses, but collective grief over the losses. I don’t pretend I’m not sad. I don’t pretend I’m not angry. I don’t pretend I’m not grieving. I give myself the right to feel it all. And I am also seeking out ways I can help in my own community, whether that is through volunteer service or philanthropy, or in the other work I do every single day.
This year came with some tremendous personal and professional highs for me: on the professional side, from speaking at End Well, to funding and launching a new project to honor my late parents. Our Grieve Leave team continues to grow as our global reach grows. On the personal side, I have a wonderful family and chosen family; I am anchored by every single day. I am entering the second year of a romantic partnership that doesn’t come with a constant undercurrent of my own anxiety – it’s truly been life-changing to be at peace.
As so much has felt this year completely out of control globally and nationally, I have done my best to very intentionally grasp at what I have the power to impact right now: me, the people I love, and my local community. That is why I’ve had a great year. (Also, Taylor Swift got engaged. I gasped and cried with joy when I saw the post on Instagram, I kid you not.)
I’ve talked to quite a few friends over the past month or so, as we all are taking a look in the rearview mirror of 2025, and so many folks have told me their similar feelings. The year has been absolutely awful for our world. And the year has been absolutely amazing in so many other ways, personally.
There’s something to that. There’s a reason. I’m not the only one digging into my own well-being and putting love into myself and my community. You are, too.
You’re (probably) not a terrible person. Our world is on fire. Let’s do what we can with what we have, and let’s temper the flames at home. Let’s take every day of 2026 one step at a time– we got good at that in 2025.
I’m hopeful for 2026. I hope you are too.
Grieve on,
Rebecca
.jpg)



.png)
.png)
.png)