In June 2023, I read A Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart.
I was coming out of postpartum psychosis, living with an OCD diagnosis, and deep in PTSD treatment. Life felt small and fragile. Carefully managed. Quiet in a way that wasn’t peaceful.
The book wasn’t profound. It was a bit silly, actually.
And that was exactly why it worked.
The list wasn’t about achievement
The book made me think about lists. Not goals. Not milestones. Just things.
Things that reminded you that you were still alive. That curiosity hadn’t disappeared. That joy didn’t have to be sensible or impressive to count.
So I made my own list. Not to fix myself. Just to find myself again.
Climb Slieve Donard
I joined a Facebook group. Asked a few questions. Bought a pair of boots.
Then one day, I just went.
I didn’t even really know which mountain I was heading towards. I just looked up and started walking.
At one point I asked a man with a dog if I was going the right way.
I did it on my own. And it felt incredibly freeing.
That day became a stepping stone. Proof that I could do one small, brave thing and survive it.
Tour Paris on a bike (or a scooter)
I didn’t end up on a bike.
I used a scooter instead.
It still counted.
I moved through Paris under my own steam, letting myself enjoy something without overthinking it.
Another stepping stone. Another quiet reminder that life could feel spacious again.
See the northern lights
This one happened in 2024.
We went on a midnight drive and watched the sky dance. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I remember thinking how unlikely it all was. That after everything, I was standing there, looking up.
By then, the list was no longer just mine. Friends were meeting me where I was, walking beside me without rushing me ahead.
The list isn’t finished
Skydiving for charity is still on it.
So is going up in a hot air balloon.
It’s taken me a long time to get this far. And grief last year slowed me down.
But the list isn’t going anywhere.
Neither am I.
The stepping stones that carried me into 2025
After some of this list, I added two things for 2025.
Swim to the buoy at Brompton and back. And sell DayDot work at a craft fair.
I achieved both.
Not through sudden confidence, but through layers of small bravery built up over time.
Friends helped here too. Encouraging me. Sitting beside me. Meeting me exactly where I was on the day.
Each thing became a stepping stone, carrying me gently toward the end of 2025.
What that book really gave me
It didn’t heal me.
It gave me a starting point. A way to build confidence slowly, with help, without pressure, and without pretending I was further along than I was.
By the time I reached the end of 2025, I was ready for the next thing.
Hosting the journal and scrapbooking session didn’t come out of nowhere. It was built on every walk, swim, conversation, and small yes that came before it.
The list keeps growing. And I keep growing with it.
That was enough to begin.
If this resonated: you might like journalling about the stepping stones that quietly carried you forward.
