The Year Everything Felt Slightly Out of Reach

There’s something oddly comforting about year-end recaps — Spotify, Pinterest, YouTube — little digital mirrors reminding us who we were, what we searched for, and what we were quietly craving.

And honestly?
After the chaos of Black Friday, the emotional whiplash of 2025, and the “I did not have this on my bingo card” moments… I needed the clarity.

My YouTube Recap popped up today as I was putting my daughter to bed. We watched it together, and I thought to myself, "Wow, the content I watched was definitely engaging." Later, as I was making a snack, and because I am only 5'3.75" (yes, the .75 matters), I grabbed a pair of kitchen tongs to reach the cereal box on the top shelf.

And as I stood there on my tiptoes, wobbling, trying to hook a box of Cheerios like some tired raccoon with a gadget…

I realized:
This was the metaphor of my entire year.

Everything felt just out of reach — and instead of building the foundation I needed (a stool, a ladder, a system, a boundary, a rhythm), I kept grabbing the nearest “tool” to make it work.

Did the job get done? Absolutely.
Did I look ridiculous trying? Oh, 100%.
Did it serve me? Not really.

And somewhere in that moment — stretched, wobbly, cereal-adjacent — I had one of those funny little self-awareness flashes:

“And yes, you’ll notice the dashes. I can’t help it — it’s just how my brain pauses between thoughts. And honestly? I was using them long before ChatGPT made them a personality trait.”

It made me laugh… but it also grounded me.

Because this wasn’t just a cereal moment — it was the story of my 2025.

What My YouTube Recap Told Me About the Season I’ve Been Living In

Here were my top YouTube categories this year:

• DIY home projects

• Cake decorating

• Freezer meal planning

• Home organisation

• TV show updates (because obviously)

At first glance, it's random.
But when I looked closer, I saw the pattern:

I’ve been craving simplicity, comfort, order, creativity, and ease — because so much of my real life felt anything but that.

These weren’t “fun searches.”
They were coping mechanisms disguised as hobbies.

A way to feel a little more in control when everything else felt stretched thin.

The Quiet Hard Parts I Don’t Always Talk About

I won’t list every detail, but between late 2024 and most of 2025, life humbled me in ways I didn’t see coming.

A season where:

• momentum kept slipping through my fingers

• client work felt heavier than usual

• money felt tight and unpredictable

• relationships shifted in ways I wasn’t prepared for

• resentment crept in where passion used to live

• burnout stopped being a buzzword and became a lived experience

It wasn’t a dramatic collapse.
It was a slow erosion — the kind you only notice when you’re suddenly standing somewhere you don’t recognize.

I became the “yes girl” without meaning to, doing the minimum viable just to get through the week, stretching myself in ways that looked productive but drained me completely.

And somewhere in all of that, my creativity — my writing, my spark, my heart-work — slipped to the back of the shelf, just like that cereal box I couldn’t reach.

Why 2025 Forced Me to Simplify (In the Most Honest Way)

There’s a point where stretching doesn’t feel resilient — it feels exhausting.

This year taught me that:

• I don’t want to custom-build everything from scratch anymore.

• My nervous system needs smoother systems, not more surprises.

• I want my work to feel aligned, not draining.

• I need to help more people in a way that doesn’t require more time.

• I miss writing — not content-for-content’s-sake, but real writing.

• My business won’t survive if I’m constantly stretching tongs toward the top shelf.

So I started rebuilding — slower, gentler, and with actual foundations this time.

Stepping Into 1:Many in 2025: This Isn’t Scaling. This Is Healing.

People talk about “scaling” like it’s a power move, but for me?
1:Many is the opposite of hustle.

It’s about:

• honouring my introverted nature

• creating more spaciousness

• supporting more people without sacrificing myself

• sharing what I know in ways that are accessible, sustainable, and valuable

• building once, helping many

It’s about taking everything I’ve learned — through the struggles, the missteps, the late-night cereal quests — and turning it into systems, templates, tools, and guides that genuinely help people.

Not rushed.
Not forced.
Not inflated.

Just… useful.

What I’ve Been Building (And Why)

This shift is why I’ve been quietly building things like:

• Spreadsheet templates that bring order to chaos

• Meal planning guides that make home feel easier

• Business systems for people who aren’t ready for a full tech build

• Website templates for creatives who want to start, not stall

• Rural Rhythms meal planning resources

• Harmony Tech Tracker for simplifying the backend

Not because I want to sell more.
But because I needed these things myself — and they helped.

And I know they’ll help someone else too.

What I’m Carrying Into 2026

I’m not bringing the tongs with me.
I’m bringing:

• simple, steady systems

• healthier boundaries

• writing as a core part of my work again

• offerings that support more people with less burnout

• a business that finally feels like home

• the permission to build foundations, not shortcuts

2025 stretched me — but it didn’t break me.
It clarified me.

And for the first time in a while… I’m hopeful.

Final Thoughts: If Your 2025 Felt Like Stretching for the Cereal Box Too…

You’re not alone.

This was a year of reaching, wobbling, regrouping, rebuilding, and redefining what matters.

Your recap might have called you out too — in big ways or tiny, snack-time metaphors.

If you want to see some of the things I’ve been building (and the tools that have made life + business easier for me), you can peek at my storefront here:

👉 cassandracomeau.com/store

Just value.
Just support.
Just things that make real life feel calmer.

And now I’d love to know:

What did YOUR YouTube Recap say about your year? (here's a few of mine)