SophieJ Life Experiences

Escapism season is in full force.

I am indeed going into hibernation mode. Starting today, actually. With the cold season approaching, I think it’s only appropriate.

Are you hibernating as well?

I know that for many, it’s cuffing season. LOL. But that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about going inward. Focusing on goals, priorities, and the things that will actually matter over the next few months as we head into 2027. You know, making something of the year, even if that means simply staying alive and managing to save $100 more than we originally planned.

Because at this point, we are flipping a switch and doing what we seem to be exceptionally good at: turning every obstacle into another reason to keep going. Making something out of circumstances that sometimes give us very little to work with.

And quite frankly, I’m tired of having to be so good at that.

But here we are.

This year, besides finding a stable source of additional income (preferably a part-time job), what I really want is to get into the best shape of my life.

And no, that doesn’t necessarily mean being skinny.

I cannot believe I spent most of my life thinking I was overweight, even during periods when I was clearly thin. Perception is a dangerous thing, especially when you’ve spent years looking at yourself through lenses that were never entirely yours to begin with.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and give every version of myself the biggest hug. For the doubts, the insecurities, the unnecessary comparisons, and all the thoughts that made me question things that never needed questioning.

Especially teenage me.

That girl had no idea she was practically the blueprint for some of those magazines. The high cheekbones, the plump lips, and those forever unforgettable features. LOL.

And yet, there she was, finding things to dislike about herself.

How fascinating, and terribly sad, that we can spend so much time criticizing a version of ourselves that we will one day look back on with so much tenderness.

So yes, I’m working toward my most amazing form yet. But I’m also learning that my most amazing form can exist at any given moment. Including right now.

Anyway, back to this job market, because apparently self-love does not pay the electricity bill.

2025 and 2026 have truly humbled me. And probably you too, if you’ve had the misfortune of participating in this job market.

What a literal shit show.

I’m either too qualified for an entry-level position because of my previous professional experience, or I need to finish accumulating my clinical licensing hours before I can qualify for other positions.

And let me tell you, 4,500 hours have never felt so long.

I have approximately eight weeks left before I can officially submit those hours, and I want to scream.

Not because I’m not grateful for how far I’ve come. I am. Immensely.

But because the finish line has been visible for so long, and somehow, the last stretch feels like the longest.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to find a second job.

Not because I have the energy, mind you. Because I absolutely do not.

But because surviving in this economy with one income is becoming increasingly difficult. And I’m not even talking about living extravagantly. I’m talking about paying bills, having some savings, taking care of yourself, and maybe occasionally enjoying the money you work so hard to earn.

Apparently, that’s a luxury now.

The number of rejection letters I’ve received at what should arguably be one of the most professionally qualified periods of my life is almost comical.

Almost.

Because after a while, it stops being funny.

I’ve been reading blogs, listening to podcasts, and following conversations online, and one thing is becoming increasingly clear: so many people are discouraged, exhausted, and feeling utterly alone in this process.

I know I am.

And then comes the question: should I also get on the internet, start making videos, and become slightly unhinged for the algorithm?

Or perhaps explore some of these questionable side hustles, because apparently the money is being made somewhere, right?

LOL. I don’t know.

I have a professional license and ethical standards to uphold, so unfortunately, I cannot simply wake up tomorrow and reinvent myself as whatever the internet finds entertaining that week.

But even within the helping professions, we’re seeing more and more professionals becoming content creators, building online platforms, and learning how to market themselves just to attract clients.

And I understand why.

Because no matter how independent you are, you do not exist in a vacuum.

Your livelihood is connected to the economic realities of the people you serve.

When millions of people are unemployed or financially insecure, the consequences extend far beyond those individual households.

They affect entire industries, including mental health.

Who can afford out-of-pocket therapy when they’re struggling to pay rent? What happens when someone loses their job and, along with it, their health insurance? What happens to the people who desperately need professional support but can no longer afford to access it?

And what happens to the professionals whose livelihoods depend on providing those services?

It’s a complicated and uncomfortable reality.

We encourage people to seek help, to prioritize their mental health, to invest in their well-being. But what happens when the very conditions contributing to their distress also make accessing care financially impossible?

Sometimes I wonder how much more resilience we’re going to ask of people before acknowledging that resilience cannot substitute for stability.

And I think that’s part of what has been weighing on me lately.

I’m trying to be realistic about where things stand.

I am incredibly grateful for my community, for the people who genuinely care about me, and for the relationships that have sustained me through difficult seasons.

I don’t take any of that for granted.

But gratitude does not require me to wear rose-colored glasses.

I can appreciate what I have while acknowledging that things are genuinely difficult right now.

I can love my work and still be frustrated by the financial realities of doing it.

I can be proud of my accomplishments and still feel discouraged when another rejection letter lands in my inbox.

And I can be someone who helps others navigate difficult seasons while admitting that, on some days, I barely have the capacity to navigate my own.

That last part is particularly uncomfortable.

Because what happens when the person who spends so much time holding space for others begins to feel like they have very little space left for themselves?

What happens when the emotional, physical, and financial demands of simply existing start competing with the very things that once gave you purpose?

I don’t have a beautiful answer for that.

And perhaps that’s why hibernation feels so appealing right now.

Not necessarily to disappear. Not to abandon responsibilities or become disconnected from the world.

But to become a little more intentional about where my energy goes.

To stop feeling obligated to participate in everything.

To work toward financial stability without making productivity my entire identity.

To take care of my body without punishing it for what it looks like.

To continue growing professionally without treating every delay as a personal failure.

And perhaps, most importantly, to recognize that making something of 2027 does not have to mean accomplishing something extraordinary.

Maybe it means having a little more breathing room.

Maybe it means paying down a bill, getting stronger, finding a better opportunity, or finally being able to rest without mentally calculating how much that rest is costing you.

Maybe it means simply having enough.

Enough energy. Enough money. Enough time. Enough peace.

Wouldn’t that be something?

Because for all the conversations we have about growth, ambition, discipline, and becoming the best versions of ourselves, I think we sometimes forget that people are also just trying to make it through.

And some seasons require more tenderness than transformation.

So yes, I’m entering hibernation mode with goals, unfinished business, a few frustrations, and a rather ambitious list of things I’d like to accomplish before 2027 fully settles in.

But I’m also entering it with the understanding that I am a person, not an endless source of resilience.

And I suspect I’m not alone in that.

So tell me, what do you do when the tunnel seems exceptionally long, and the flashlight that’s been guiding you starts to feel heavy in your hands?

Because sometimes the light is still there.

You’re just tired of having to carry it.