My drives between Nashville and D.C. have marked a number of transitions these past 4 years. 10 hours of solitude. I enjoy it; it’s refreshing to have the time and space to peacefully contemplate each unique challenge of the moment.

These blocks of time and familiar distance have allowed me to process major decisions — taking a chance on a musician from New York, putting my relationship with my Dad on hold for a year. I’ve made the drive both in love and heartbroken, skipping to the songs that are applicable to my head and heart space of the time.

This trip, my thoughts wandered through an array of topics, experiences, and people — hanging on each one with quiet sincerity. This is the time of year for reflection, after all. I’ve struggled these last twelve months, and that pain and disappointment has painted the lens through which my thoughts were cast. Whatever the opposite of rose-colored glasses is.

This imagery came into focus as I was driving through the mountains between my two home states. A dense fog covered the road, making each upcoming curve harder to anticipate. 2018 was similarly murky, I thought.

The days were marked with the loss of relationships I had invested too much of myself in. Initially, I had tried – desperately – to cling to those connections. I couldn’t see beyond the curve directly in front of me. Disentangling myself was painful. It was a messy procedure that I did not feel equipped to navigate. But, slowly, I settled into that gray space. I rebuilt. A deep breath, a kind encounter with a stranger, a new friend, a day without crying in my car.

These small victories will never be applauded, but they are victories nonetheless. I realized then that I needed to recalibrate my end of the year reflection. I needed to value – not criticize – the time I spent mourning, the time I spent broken, the time I spent healing. This time was not wasted and it was not unproductive. It’s okay to learn how to breathe again; it’s okay if you don’t know what’s approaching ahead. 2018 taught me even the shakiest steps can move you forward.