Honoring the You Who Carried You: A Reflection on Growth, Gratitude, and Self-Compassion

As I aimlessly scrolled through Instagram, lost in the endless feed of images and stories, I paused, captivated by a poignant message from @laurenoflove: "The version of yourself that carried you through this year somehow, thank her with gratitude before you tell her what she can do better in 2025." The raw honesty of that statement hit me like a gut punch, resonating deeply within.

This reflection deepened during a recent conversation with a dear friend. We spoke about how easily we judge ourselves—quick to pinpoint what could be better, yet slow to celebrate all that is already good. Aren’t we masters of critique, yet novices in offering ourselves grace?

That conversation reminded me of Internal Family Systems Therapy (IFS), a therapeutic approach that teaches us to see ourselves as a community of interconnected parts, each with its own purpose and voice. IFS invites us to recognize that there are no inherently bad parts within us—only parts trying to protect us, often in ways shaped by past trauma.

These unhealed parts often act as though the trauma is still happening, using strategies like perfectionism, avoidance, or self-criticism that may appear “negative” but are, in reality, acts of self-preservation. My inner critic, for instance, is a perfectionistic part of me that developed to shield me from external judgment. Its mantra: Be perfect, or risk rejection.

Through IFS, I’ve begun to see this part of myself with compassion. Rather than resenting or silencing it, I’ve learned to engage with it gently, asking: What are you afraid of? What do you need from me? These questions often uncover the fear and pain driving its protective behaviors. And it’s in this dialogue—acknowledging the intentions behind these parts—that healing begins.

When we understand that every part of us acts out of a desire to protect, we shift from judgment to curiosity. We begin to see our inner critic, self-doubt, and even anger not as enemies but as allies—fragments of ourselves needing reassurance that we are safe now, and that they no longer need to carry the burden alone.

This past year, I faced an overwhelming urge to self-isolate. While protective in some ways, that withdrawal also gave my inner critic free rein. Its voice insisted that I either show up perfectly or not at all. As a result, I judged myself harshly—criticizing my reactions, emotions, and perceived shortcomings.

But through these struggles, I’ve learned to meet myself with kindness. I’ve come to see the resilience and tenacity in the part of me that carried me through this year. She fought through challenges, embraced vulnerability, and sat with discomfort. She took risks, stepped boldly into the unknown, and invited connection even when it felt risky. She identified her needs, voiced them courageously, and set boundaries—even when met with resistance.

As I prepare to step into 2025, I refuse to critique her for what she could have done better. Instead, I will encourage her to keep practicing self-compassion, showing up authentically, and embracing both bravery and honesty. I’ll remind her to let emotions flow freely, to listen to their wisdom without judgment, and to trust that we’ll navigate whatever comes next together.

So, I ask you: Will you take a moment to thank the version of yourself that carried you through 2024? Before critiquing or analyzing, honor the struggles, victories, and growth that shaped you. Let gratitude guide you into the new year, rooted in self-compassion and hope.