Midlife MavericksWho are you? she asked.
It was Friday at 11 a.m., and I was on my knees, hanging tinsel along the bannisters. The little girl couldn’t have been older than six.
“I’m Santa’s little helper,” I said.
“Really?”
Her eyes widened. Hand over her mouth. Utter shock. And then she bolted into the playground.
A few minutes later she was back, this time with a friend in tow.
Both of them pointing at me. Both whispering.
“See? See? I told you. Santa’s little helper,” she said, triumph written all over her face.
On Monday morning, her dad dropped her off at school. When she ran off, I told him the story.
“You? Now that makes sense,” he said.
“She kept pointing at you on Saturday saying, ‘Daddy, daddy, there’s Santa’s helper,’ and I had no idea what she meant.”
So somewhere in Surrey, a little girl named Ava genuinely believes that Clauds here is Santa’s little helper.
And that tiny moment – so pure and magical – made me think about everything I’ve actually achieved this year.
Here’s How I’m Looking at It
Last week someone wrote on Substack that their revenue was down and they felt like their business had gone backwards. I don’t know her personally, but I’ve followed her work closely. So I told her what I tell myself:
Did you expand your network?
Did you grow your reputation?
Did you learn something new?
Then your business grew.
And as I wrap up my 2025, I keep circling back to the truth we forget far too often:
we track all the wrong scoreboards and miss all the magic moments.
Quote of the Week
“Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.”
William Bruce Cameron
Revenue alone, or ticking tasks off a list, doesn’t make a year meaningful.
So I asked myself the only questions that matter:
Did I grow?
Did I stretch?
Did I become someone future-me would admire?
The Real Scorecard
When I sat down and did a quick back-of-the-envelope reflection, I ended the exercise in tears. The good kind.
Because this was a year of expansion.
Messy, stretchy, exhausting, exhilarating expansion.
Here’s what I saw:
The year I grew to 30,000 followers with my words.
The year I recorded my first podcast.
The year a publication I admire asked me to write for them.
The year I sent a record number of proposals in December.
The year I helped a client grow a new business to seven figures annualised.
The year I finally learned how to wield AI like a damn superpower.
The year I helped several women secure six-figure consulting offers and kick off their portfolio careers.
The year this newsletter reached 2,000 subscribers, and writing felt like home again.
The year I discovered I’m the fun mum, the one whose car kids sprint toward to hear my unfiltered driving commentary (90% of which is me trying not to tell bikers to fuck off).
The year I made 26 hampers for a Christmas fair, because when I commit, I commit like a woman possessed.
The year a little girl believed I was Santa’s helper and believed in the magic of Christmas because of something I did.
Tell me again: why is revenue the only metric that matters?
Because yes, I’m exhausted.
I’ve been working 12–14-hour days for three straight weeks.
I look like I’ve been run over by a truck.
But when I zoom out…
The year I’m exhausted to my bones
is also the year a little girl believed I was part of Christmas magic.
And that grounded me in a truth I forget far too often:
Your business is more than your revenue.
Your year is more than your numbers.
Your growth is more than anything money can measure.
And your life’s success is far bigger than anything you can neatly quantify.
My God…
what a year it has been.
So tell me, what magic did you create this year that no spreadsheet could ever measure?
See you next Wednesday.
P.S. If this year taught you that the old scorecard doesn’t fit anymore and you’re ready to build something that does – let’s talk. I have a few spots open in January for 1:1 work. Book a call here.
