After the Freeze: What Winter Taught Me About Change, Identity & Rebuilding

Let’s be honest — this past winter sucked.

There’s no delicate way to say it. It was cold, isolating, and emotionally confronting. And while there’s a part of me that wants to wrap it all up in a neat little lesson and say, “But I’m stronger for it,” I’m not quite there yet.

I am learning and changing — slowly, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes with grace, sometimes through tears. I’m definitely still in it.

Here’s what’s been going on, the reasons why this winter sucked, and what I’m doing to make spring, summer, and next winter — a little easier.

1. The Weather Shock

I moved from Vancouver Island to Ontario just in time to experience the longest, coldest, most stubborn winter I (and Ontario locals) can remember. On the West Coast, I was used to rain — sure — but also to green grass, soft temperatures, and daffodils by February. Here? It was snowbanks into April and a spring that refused to show up on time.

At first, I tried to be gracious about it. “Look at how beautiful the snow is!” I told myself. And it was beautiful — until it felt never-ending. Eventually, the grayness became a cliche backdrop to loneliness, inertia, and the feeling of being trapped in boredom.

But now, May (the best month of the year IMO) has arrived. Our tulips have finally bloomed. We can see the sun. And I’m deeply appreciating these signs of life as they ground and energize me for the next vibrant season of my earth-bound experience.

Lesson? Environment matters. And when it’s working against you, it’s okay to feel off. Seasonal disorientation is real.

2. The Loneliness of Rebuilding

Moving meant leaving behind a good friends, and an established lifestyle. The kind of life where you could walk the ocean-side trail at sunset every night, had a balanced weekly routine, and knew people by name at your yoga studio.

Now, we’re starting over. In an old-to-me town with some new people, and a lot of new dynamics. While we’re closer to family — which is a huge gift — it doesn’t replace the chosen family we left behind. Community-building takes time. And in Ontario, it also takes summer. Because, truly, everyone hibernates here. No one wants to chat in the parking lot in -20°C.

We’re hoping this summer brings more connection. Backyard campfire chats, team sports, a few promising social events. I’m saying yes more often, even when my inner introvert want to retreat.

Lesson? Connection takes time. But you can still water the seeds while you wait.

3. An Identity Crisis... Great.

Let’s talk Saturn Return. If you’re not into astrology, think of it like a personal growth earthquake around your late 20s — everything stable starts to feel… wobbly?

For the past six months, I’ve felt lost. My intuition — once a reliable guide — has been radio silent. I’ve always been someone who knows. Knows what’s next. Knows what feels right. And for the first time, I have had no idea where to go next. I've felt stuck in my directionless-ness.

Professionally, it’s been a mess. I’ve been unemployed longer than ever. I’ve struggled to even land a part-time job while building my coaching business, which has grown at about the same slow, financially dependent pace I thought it would (and that is okay!). My backup plans (and there were many — A through ZZ) all crumbled.

I’ve had to sit with a question I didn't really want to ask: Who am I? Who am I without a title, income, or plan? Who am I when my value can't be tied to participation in capitalism or present-moment contribution to society?

I think 'Who am I?' is an always present, spiritual question for all of us that hits harder at times than others. Connect that question to disassociating self-worth from capitalism, and it becomes an even harder one to answer in a culture that equates worth with productivity. Especially when, like me, you’ve always been the responsible one, the achiever, the person with her life together.

Lesson? Your job is not your identity and your income is not your worth. But detaching them can feel like shame and grief.

If you have been feeling this way, coaching can help! Discovery calls are free, and may just give you the insight you need to break free.

4. Too Much Change, Too Much Time

Here’s a weird thing: I had too much time on my hands, and yet not enough energy to use it well. Without structure, collaboration, or external accountability, I was left with a loaded skillset and nowhere to direct it. My hobbies felt flat (though I tried really hard! See below). Media felt uninspiring. Everything creative felt like a dead end.

Inspired by this winter's mental wrestling matches & an attempt at kickstarting hobbies and creativity

I found myself cycling between boredom, guilt, frustration, and self-doubt. Why wasn’t I doing more? Why didn’t I feel joy? Why couldn’t I just “use this time wisely”?

I decided to start trying to pry my brain away from asking why. When my brain asks why, I've started asking what.

What do I need right now? What tiny, nourishing action could help? What would it mean to be kind to myself instead of punishing myself for not being productive? This practice is a work in progress. 

I began studying more about my neurodivergent mind — which, by the way, loves purpose and novelty and withers without them. I started to treat my brain with more softness and curiosity. That’s also a work in progress.

Lesson? More time doesn’t mean more peace. But it can offer space to learn new ways of being.

5. The Emotional Weight of the World

This feels self explanatory

And then there’s… everything else.

This winter wasn’t just heavy on a personal level. The state of the world — politically, socially, environmentally — added a layer of emotional wildfire style smoke that’s been hard to shake.

If you’re someone who’s naturally empathetic, sensitive to injustice, or just generally aware of how interconnected everything is… you probably felt it too.

For many of my family and friends — and for me — it’s felt like our nervous systems just haven’t had a chance to reset. Even when life is “fine” on paper, there’s a low hum of anxiety in the background. A sense of: Is it even okay to be okay right now?

So if you were feeling more tired than usual, less hopeful, or just over it this winter - you’re not broken, and you're not alone.

Lesson? Being sensitive, empathic, and in tune isn’t a flaw. But it does mean we need strong personal boundaries, deeper self-empathy, and more intentional rest.

We need rest ESPECIALLY when the world is wild in a bad way

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What I’m Doing to Rebuild (Without Burning Out)

If you're also in a place of transition — big change, burnout, identity flux — perhaps you will find value in some of the things I'm doing to try to support myself:

1. Gentle, Grounding Notes of Kindness

   I've been inspired to put reminders in the near and far future in my Google Calendar and planner. The most recent addition:

   “April always sucks. Remember: May brings flowers.”

   
   

2. Summer Jobs - Just for Fun

   I’m giving myself permission to apply for for fun, low-pressure jobs this summer — ones that give me structure and variety without tying my self-worth to a paycheck.

   
   

3. Saying Yes More Often

   Especially to social invites, even when they feel scary to my inner introvert. It turns out, burnout can come from boredom too.

   
   

4. Playing Team Sports

   Not for competition, but for connection. Nothing builds community like shared goals and challenge.

   
   

5. Teaching + Coaching More

   Whether it’s wellness, leadership, aerial arts, or soccer — I’m showing up to teach where I can, with playfulness and presence.

   
   

6. Accepting My Internal Mess

   As a 6/2 profile in Human Design, I’m learning to trust that I’m aging into my inner child. I was serious and composed as a kid. Now? I’m letting myself be messy, curious, and full of possibility (Initial mental gremlin response - "ew," but after a breath of acceptance, it starts to feel more okay).

   
   

7. Trying and Retrying New Things!

   I recently got to participate in a pottery class (gifted to me for my birthday 💕). I had participated in this exact class a few years ago with my mom, and revisiting it was so revitalizing! I was reminded how much I love the feel of shaping clay, and how grounding it is for my mind. 10/10 experience - and if you're in the St. Thomas/London area, I encourage you to check out Pinecroft Pottery Classes and the Green Frog Tearoom (no affiliate links here - I just really loved my experience!)

   
   

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If You’re in a Season Like Winter Was For Me…

… know that you’re not alone. Whether it’s Saturn Return, a big life change, or just a winter that wore you down — this past while has been a hard season for a lot of us.

If you want support transitioning into lighter, inspired, and purposeful energy alongside fresh spring weather, I’m here and making that transformation too!

You can book a coaching session, or if you're curious and want a low-pressure way to connect, you can book a free intro chat.

Or, just comment below — I’d love to hear how your winter went - What you learned and what you’re still figuring out.

Let’s grow through this, together.

With warmth (finally),

💛Emma