As this year winds down, I found myself reflecting with my husband on just how intense 2025 has been. And honestly? It surprised us. In many ways, this year felt heavier and more demanding than 2020 ever did. The challenges came from every direction (personally, professionally, emotionally) and they didn’t always announce themselves ahead of time. It was one of those years that required grit, flexibility, and a lot of deep breaths and countless silent prayers.

What stands out most isn’t just what we survived, but that we’re still here. Still showing up. Still trying. Perseverance looked different this year. Sometimes it meant pushing forward. Other times it meant pausing, recalibrating, or choosing rest when the world kept insisting on more. If you’re reading this, that alone says something about your strength.

The ChiLLness Chronicles exists to name that truth out loud. To acknowledge that getting through an unprecedented year — especially while navigating chronic illness, uncertainty, and real life — deserves recognition. You made it, friend!

As we close out the year, I’m wishing you a peaceful and joyous holiday season, filled with whatever helps you feel grounded and whole. And here’s our prayer as we look ahead: May 2026 be gentle, generous, and good to us. Because we’ve earned that and then some, okay?!

An Honest Ending Is Still a Win

Comparison does not account for fatigue, brain fog, flares, appointments, or the emotional labor of living in a body that requires extra care. It has no respect for chronic illness or disability. You are not behind. You are navigating life with different variables.

If the main thing you did this year was stay afloat, that is an accomplishment.

Showing up to appointments. Taking your meds. Resting when your body demanded it. Advocating for yourself. Getting through the hard days. Those are not small victories. They are proof of resilience. Anything beyond that — starting something, finishing something, pivoting, letting go — was extra. Not required.

If reflecting makes you sad, slow down. Be gentle. Write a little. Pause often. Come back when you’re ready. If reflecting energizes you, lean in. Make the list. Share your wins on The ‘Gram or the clock app. Let people celebrate you. Joy is allowed.

You get to choose how you close the year. Do you, boo.

Gentle, Practical Ways to Close the Year

Here are a few ways to move through year-end reflection with your nervous system intact:

1. Name one win out loud.
   Big or small. Finishing the year is a win. Say it where you can hear yourself.

2. Limit comparison intake.
   Mute, scroll past, or take a break from content that makes you feel behind. Protect your peace on purpose.

3. Reflect in pieces, not marathons.
   Five minutes at a time counts. You don’t need a full afternoon or a perfect notebook.

4. Honor your body’s timeline.
   Your year does not need to look productive to be meaningful. Survival, rest, and recalibration are valid outcomes.

5. Share if it feels good. Stay private if it doesn’t.
   You don’t owe the internet your story. You also don’t need permission to tell it.

6. Release what didn’t fit.
   Not everything unfinished is a failure. Some things simply weren’t meant for this season.

7. Carry one intention forward.
   Not 10. Not a full overhaul. One gentle intention is enough to step into the next chapter.

As we close out this year, remember this: You are still here. You are still worthy. You are still becoming. And that is more than enough.

Meet Marion Jones

@_theotherMJ
www.themarionjones.com
Chicago, IL

Give us the highlights — who you are, what you’re into, and how does your disability fit into your story?

My name is Marion, and at my core, I’m someone who believes deeply in possibility —both for myself and for others. I’ve spent most of my career in workforce development and equity work, helping individuals from underrepresented and marginalized communities access opportunities that can change the trajectory of their lives. Today, I’m a VP of Workforce Development for one of the largest solar developers in the U.S., shaping pathways into the clean energy sector and building teams that reflect the communities we serve.

Running wasn’t always part of my story. I picked it up in 2019, mostly as a personal challenge during a season when I needed something new to push me. Then everything changed in 2020 when I was diagnosed with neuromyelitis optica (NMO). I went from casual runs to suddenly being partially paralyzed after a relapse. Learning how to walk again was humbling, frustrating, emotional — and ultimately one of the biggest turning points of my life.

Somewhere in that recovery, I made a promise to myself: If I could learn to walk again, I would learn to run again. And one day, I’d run a marathon. It became less about the miles and more about reclaiming my body, my confidence, and my sense of possibility. Running turned into therapy, a way to process everything my diagnosis changed, and a platform to raise awareness about NMO and support rare disease and brain health causes that now mean so much to me.

How does your disability manifest? What are your main symptoms?

I live with something called neuromyelitis optica, or NMO for short. Your brain and spinal cord help your body move, feel, and see. NMO is a rare illness where my immune system — basically the part of my body that’s supposed to protect me — gets confused and attacks those areas instead.

NMO is kind of like Multiple Sclerosis (MS), so I describe them as cousins. They’re different diseases, but they act in similar ways and can both affect movement, vision, and feeling. But NMO has its own personality and can cause severe damage very quickly.

One of the biggest challenges with NMO is chronic nerve pain. When the nerves in my spinal cord are attacked, it causes burning, buzzing, or electric-shock types of pain that don’t always go away, even with rest or medication. It’s something I feel every day.

The most life-changing moment came when a treatment drug that was supposed to protect me actually failed. Because of that failure, my immune system launched a strong attack on my spinal cord. That attack caused serious nerve damage, and I became partially paralyzed. Suddenly, I couldn’t move parts of my body the way I always had. I had to relearn how to walk—slowly, step by step.

NMO also makes me extremely tired, can affect my vision, and sometimes causes muscle spasms or numbness. And even though the illness isn’t visible from the outside, it’s something I manage every single day with medicine, careful monitoring, and a lot of determination.

Living with NMO is hard, but it’s also made me stronger. It taught me resilience, patience, and gratitude for every step my body allows me to take.

What’s your wellness mantra?

My wellness mantra is “Forward is always possible.” Living with NMO has taught me that healing doesn’t happen in big leaps — it happens one choice, one moment, and one step at a time. Even on tough days, I remind myself that progress isn’t about perfection; it’s about continuing to move, with grace, purpose, and faith.

What’s a small victory you’ve celebrated recently, and how did it make you feel?

A small victory I’ve celebrated recently is being chosen as a Rare Disease Legislative Advocates (RDLA) Advisory Committee Member for the EveryLife Foundation for Rare Diseases. It might look like a professional milestone from the outside, but to me, it feels much more personal and meaningful. It’s an opportunity to deepen my advocacy work and use my voice to help create real change for the rare disease community — people whose stories often go unheard.

Being selected made me feel both humbled and energized. It felt like confirmation that I’m walking in my purpose, and that all I’ve overcome has positioned me for this moment. I truly feel called for a time such as this — and I’m ready.

What’s the most unexpected lesson your chronic illness/disability has taught you?

NMO taught me that when everything feels like it’s falling apart, it can also be the start of something stronger and more meaningful. I didn’t expect to become a marathon runner after learning how to walk again. I didn’t expect my story to resonate with others living with rare diseases. And I definitely didn’t expect to find a deeper sense of purpose in advocacy and using my voice to bring awareness to a community that often goes unseen.

The unexpected lesson? What feels like the end of your old life can actually be the beginning of a fuller, more intentional one. NMO pushed me to slow down, listen to my body, and rebuild a life rooted in purpose rather than pace. It taught me resilience in a way I never asked for, but ultimately grew from — and it continues to shape how I show up for myself and for others daily.

Who or what inspires you to keep going, even when things feel impossible?

My nieces inspire me to keep going, even when things feel impossible. They bring me so much joy — the teenagers keep me young, and the little ones keep me grounded. This summer, one of my 4-year-old nieces looked at me and said, “All you do is work, work, work …” and honestly, that was the reminder I didn’t know I needed. It made me slow down, check in more often, and spend time with her — because in her mind, she’s the boss. And honestly, she’s not wrong.


But I’m also deeply inspired by the rare disease community. Knowing that I can use my voice to advocate for us is something I never take lightly. Every time someone reaches out and says, “Your story inspires me,” or, “I used to run before being diagnosed with NMO and thought that part of my life was over — but seeing you run marathons gave me hope,” it means everything to me. Those messages, those moments of connection, remind me that sharing my journey matters.

What makes you poppin’?

What makes me poppin’? It’s the way I carry both strength and softness at the same time. I’ve lived through some tough chapters — from navigating a rare disease to relearning how to walk — but I still show up with faith and a grounded sense of purpose.

What makes me uniquely me is that I don’t just overcome challenges — I transform them. I turn my experiences into advocacy, my pain into purpose, and my setbacks into platforms that help others rise. I lead with authenticity, I speak from lived experience, and I’m not afraid to take people with me on the journey. And somehow, through all of it, I still hold space for hope, humor, and humanity.

Plus, let’s be real — I’m poppin’ because I’m The Other Marion Jones — yes, the one who ran five marathons in two years after learning how to walk again. Clock it!

I’d spend the day reminding her that even though challenges are coming, she’s stronger than she thinks, her story will stretch far beyond her pain, and the best is still ahead of her. And honestly, it feels fitting — because this idea comes full circle in my upcoming book, The Other Marion Jones, set to be released in 2026.

🛍️ Products of the Month: MRISWTR™ Crewneck and MRISWTR™ Hoodie

Okay, I tried to be chill about this … but I can’t. The MRISWTR™ Collection is that girl, and December feels like her moment. Our flagship MRISWTR™ Crewneck and MRISWTR™ Hoodie were designed for scan days when you want comfort and a little main-character energy. Sleeve openings on both arms mean easy access to your “good” veins — no freezing, no awkward tugging, no unexpected skin exposure.

You stay covered. You stay warm. You stay you. And because every MRISWTR™ piece is completely metal-free — no zippers, snaps, fasteners, or metallic threads — you can wear it safely during your MRI, even with contrast. No outfit change required. This is the sweater you wish you had last time. December PSA: Don’t wait on this. Let your wardrobe handle some of the heavy lifting while you focus on getting through the scan. Your future self will be very glad you did.

📚 Relevant Reads: December 2025

🎥 Currently Watching

📅 December 2025 Calendar

• ❤️ HIV/AIDS Awareness Month

• 🗣️ Learn a Foreign Language Month

• ✍️ National Write a Business Plan Month

• ♿️ Persons with Disabilities Awareness Month

• ✝️ Spiritual Literacy Month

• 🌍 Universal Humans Rights Month

• 👯‍♀️ 18: National Twin Day

• 🎅 19: National Ugly Christmas Sweater Day

• 🍷 20: National Sangria Day

• ❄️ 21: Winter Solstice

• 🕎 22: Hanukkah Ends

• 😤 23: Festivus

• 🥚 24: National Egg Nog Day

• 🎄 25: Christmas Day

• ✊🏾 26: Kwanzaa Begins

• 🎬️ 28: National Short Film Day

• 🍫 28: National Chocolate Candy Day

• 🥓 30: National Bacon Day

• 🎉 31: New Year’s Eve

💌 Friendly Reminder

✨ The ChILLness Chronicles is a cozy corner of the internet, created with love for the chronically chill and their cherished ones. Every post is a gentle reminder that life doesn’t stop with a diagnosis — you can still create, dream, and thrive on your own terms. And, of course, community makes the journey lighter. If this space speaks to you, consider subscribing to receive new posts and support this work — then share this edition with a friend who could use a little extra chILL in their life. 💛