My year of magical metamorphosis

How I changed across every dimension of life in 2024

My end-of-year ritual involves a light retrospective on the previous year and an intense planning session for the following year.

In 2024, I decided to try something different, inspired by my word of the year (metamorphosis). I spent more time looking back, soaking in the progress rather than rushing towards the next thing.

The conclusion? I grew—a lot.

The growth resulted from the culmination of various mindset shifts, which feel tiny and insignificant in isolation.

But when I look at it over a year, it’s massive.

Cherry blossoms: the perfect metamorphosis metaphor :)

I got to the root of my overachievement.

In 2024, I learned that the root of my overachievement is my internalized belief that I need to be the “perfect Indian daughter,” fixing meaningful world problems while excelling in all areas of my life (personal development, family, relationships, fitness, etc.)

For many years, this pressure felt like an invisible anvil on my chest, simultaneously suffocating and driving me. 2024 was the first time I saw the anvil and acknowledged that this is a fucking lot for one person.

But intellectualizing it is one thing, and feeling the weight is another. This required me to accept difficult emotions like fear, anger, and (especially) sadness. It was like learning a foreign language, except the language was my own body. IFS was a godsend here, and I haven’t stopped recommending it to people since then.

To truly let go, I needed to accept that I would be loved by the people I cared about, even if I no longer met this expectation. I’d like to say that I was strong enough to believe this, but I needed validation from people (like my parents and college mentors) to let go. Thankfully, I received it, and I’m so grateful every day that I did. I know much more work must be done, but seeing the fruits of my labor is motivating.

This is my proudest accomplishment of 2024, and it wasn't easy to grasp at first. But when I saw the sheer number of layers that I had unpacked, a testament to the time and energy I spent working on this goal, I was immensely proud of myself.

I learned to let go of relationships that didn’t serve me.

I did a good job of prioritizing the relationships that were meaningful to me while peacefully letting go of those that weren’t serving me.

This is difficult because I like to have a large social circle. I've always valued having a large social circle, partly as a response to childhood loneliness and partly because I genuinely enjoy forming unexpected connections. But there’s a tradeoff. If you try to maintain every relationship at full intensity, you’ll burn out. This has often resulted in strained relationships, which made me feel even lonelier or worse, dramatic friendship breakups.

This year, I gravitated toward people who wanted to spend time with me and focused on matching their energy rather than driving the relationship to a specific outcome. The result surprised me: by doing less, my relationships became more nurturing than they had been in years. Small shifts in how I showed up in existing relationships—being more present, letting go of expectations—created deeper connections without rebuilding my social circle.

I accepted doing less and letting my path unfold.

Six days into 2024, I had a complete meltdown about my career. I was doing a lot and progressing, but it didn’t feel good. The scariest part? I didn’t know why.

Weeks later, I realized this was because I was still doing things framed in the expectations of others, not myself. This resulted in doing too many things and setting an impossibly high bar for each thing, so the progress didn’t feel meaningful. Additionally, I was navigating this independently with little mentorship and support, which was starting to impact me.

So, I shifted my approach. I made difficult decisions about abandoning or scaling back from projects (like my novel). I sought mentorship and support in my path, finding it in unexpected sources like the Sabaddies group, creators like Khe, and programs like Rickshaw.

But I still didn’t know what exactly I was chasing with this next stage in my career. If not achievements, money, or titles, then what? During one conversation with a mentor, it clicked for me. In my 20s, I chased growth at no cost, postponing confronting its impact on my mental health. But in my 30s, I wanted growth in something of my choosing (rather than growing in a place I should) while staying grounded and rooted in myself.

In other words, I was seeking growth while staying grounded.

This realization led me to confront my habit of hedging. I’d always pursued multiple things simultaneously, partly as insurance against failure, and partly from a belief that impact required excelling in multiple domains. But what if I did one thing well, regardless of its size or outcome?

As a multi-passionate person, the idea of narrowing my focus terrified me. Yet, instead of letting this fear paralyze me, I embraced a gentler truth: I don't need to have everything figured out immediately. I can take time to explore and discover my path.

That’s why, in 2025, I have one primary creative goal: screen a rough cut of my short film. I’m terrified of this goal, as it triggers all my insecurities about my capabilities as a storyteller, which is a sign of potential growth.

But there’s also a part of me that feels disappointed that almost 1.5 years later, I still don’t have it all figured out. Yet there's hope in this uncertainty—I understand so much more now than I did in 2023, and maybe this growing clarity is a sign I'm moving in the right direction.

I got married and started to embrace the partnership for all its complexity.

I got married in 2024 after 18 months of planning, blood, sweat, and tears. Luckily, things went better than I could have asked for. I showed up at the wedding exactly how I wanted to, fully accepting all feelings despite the discomfort. After the wedding, we joined our finances together, which is a considerable accomplishment given that finances have been a difficult area for us to navigate.

But this journey hasn’t been easy. Marriage is like constantly holding a mirror to yourself, revealing all your beauty and ugliness. Sometimes, it feels like an impossible task, and I doubt whether I’m cut out for this challenge. On other days, it feels like I was born for partnership. But what keeps me going, despite the doubt, is our commitment to growth as partners, even when that growth feels impossible.

I’m incredibly proud of how we’ve grown in our relationship, whether splitting up household responsibilities, responding to our dysregulated system in conflict, communicating challenging emotions like hurt, or making financial decisions collaboratively. There’s a lot more work to be done, but there’s no one else I’d rather be doing this with.

Plucking tea leaves in Chiang Mai

Onwards to 2025

As I think about 2025, I keep returning to the idea of cultivation.

In 2024, I planted many seeds that have just begun to sprout—growth that needs nurturing to fully bloom. Yet I also see new possibilities I want to explore: bringing more play into my life, deciding where my husband and I will put down roots, discovering new social media channels, and joining new creative communities. It's like tending an evolving garden—nurturing existing growth while planting fresh seeds.

To me, cultivation means finding moments to appreciate what's already blooming while continuing to dream up and plant new possibilities. Creating this balance feels like a meaningful challenge, and I'm curious to see how it unfolds in 2025.

Thanks for Reading!

I’m on a journey to create a blended career across the creative arts, tech, and business. This newsletter is my way of sharing my reflections, thoughts, and advice. Here are some ways to support my work:

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