This Year Didn’t Go as Planned—But I’m Ending It With More Understanding Than Answers

Author: Mawutor Akosua Ametame

At the start of this year, I had plans.
Not the loud, dramatic kind, the quiet ones. The kind you don’t announce but carry gently in your heart, assuming life understands without you explaining. I thought certain things would make sense by now. I thought some situations would have resolved themselves. I thought I would be clearer, braver, more settled.

Life listened.
Then proceeded to freestyle.

This year didn’t go as planned. Not even close.
But somehow, it went exactly the way it needed to.

I wanted answers this year. Clear answers. Straightforward ones. The kind that show up early and say, “Relax, this is how everything will turn out.” I wanted timelines. Confirmations. Signs that said I was doing life correctly.

What I got instead was understanding.

And honestly, at first, that felt like a bad exchange.

Because understanding doesn’t immediately fix things. It doesn’t clean up the mess or tie everything into a neat bow. Sometimes it just sits with you quietly and says, “This is what it is. Now decide how you’ll move.”

There were days this year when I felt tired for no obvious reason. Not the kind of tired sleep can fix the kind that lingers even after rest. Days when nothing terrible happened, yet everything felt heavy. If someone asked how I was doing, I’d say, “I’m fine,” because explaining felt like another responsibility I didn’t have the energy for.

I planned progress.
Life gave me pauses.

I planned clarity.
Life gave me confusion and told me to stay with it.

I planned growth that would look impressive from the outside.
Life gave me growth that happened quietly, internally, where no one noticed, and no one clapped. (Honestly, not even background music.)

This year taught me that growth isn’t always loud. Sometimes it looks like unlearning. Sometimes it looks like setting boundaries and then feeling guilty about them. Sometimes it looks like resting and still feeling like you should be doing more, even though you don’t know what that “more” is.

I began to understand myself better this year, and that part wasn’t easy.

I understood why I overthink.
I understood why I stayed longer than I should have in certain situations.
I understood why I replay conversations in my head and come up with the perfect response days later. Apparently, my brain enjoys delayed wisdom.

The year also revealed people.

Not through drama or confrontation, but through consistency. Through effort. Through silence. Some people stayed. Some slowly faded. Some changed. And instead of forcing clarity where there was none, I learned to accept it. Not everyone is meant to stay forever. Some people are chapters, not the whole story.

I didn’t get answers for everything.

Some prayers felt unanswered.
Some doors stayed closed longer than expected.
Some situations ended without explanations or closure.

But understanding taught me something important: not every question needs an answer right now. Some answers arrive later. Some clarity comes through acceptance, not explanation. Some peace comes when you stop demanding meaning and start trusting the process.

This year, I was mostly indifferent about love.
Not because I didn’t care, but because my focus was elsewhere on growth, on understanding myself, on figuring out what really matters. I had a few small connections here and there, flirted a little, smiled at possibilities, but I wasn’t in a rush to open my heart fully. And honestly? That felt peaceful. No pressure, no expectations, no drama, just a space to breathe, reflect, and let life move at its own pace. Sometimes, focusing on yourself is the kindest form of love you can give.

And yes, let me also be honest here.

I planned to post on this blog bi-weekly.
Very serious plan. Very confident promise.

The last time I actually posted was in July.

Life happened. Energy dipped. Words didn’t come. And instead of forcing it, I went quiet. But I’m learning that consistency doesn’t mean perfection; it means returning. And this is me returning. I’ll do better. Gently, but intentionally.

This year didn’t make me fearless.
It made me honest.

Honest about my limits.
Honest about what I can no longer carry.
Honest about the fact that I don’t need to have everything figured out to move forward.

As the year comes to an end, I don’t have a perfect summary. I don’t have a clean list of achievements that explains the last twelve months. What I have is awareness. Perspective. A calmer mind. A softer heart. A stronger sense of self.

So yes, this year didn’t go as planned.
But it went as needed.

It gave me understanding instead of answers.
Depth instead of speed.
Wisdom instead of convenience.

And maybe that was the real gift.

And now, let me talk to you.

Yes, you, reading this.

If your year didn’t go as planned, you’re not alone.
If you feel behind, you’re not late.
If you don’t have everything figured out, congratulations, you’re human.

If all you did this year was survive, adjust, cry small, laugh when you could, and still show up, that is enough.

If you’ve ever lived in a place where life doesn’t move in straight lines, where patience is learned through waiting, detours, and unexpected pauses, then you understand this truth: the road is rarely smooth, but it still leads somewhere.

So take heart.

Carry your understanding into the new year.
Leave the unnecessary pressure behind.
Trust that even if things didn’t go as planned, they still shaped you.

You are not behind.
You are not failing.
You are becoming.

And honestly?
That is more than enough.