A Year from Today: How to Find Hope When You're Feeling Stuck

My therapy client sat dead-center on the velvet, olive-green sofa in my office. She held a pillow, looking unimaginably small—a sharp contrast from the confident, no-nonsense New Yorker executive she was only one short year ago. The session began with her quietly fidgeting with the jade pendant on her necklace, a constant reminder of a lost relationship, yet another casualty of her recent psychotic break.

Finally, the silence was broken. "I understand that I need to find hope," she said, almost under her breath. "But how do I do that, really?" She continued, "What is hope, anyway?"

The question took me by surprise. I'd been working in mental health for almost a decade, but at that moment, I felt small, too. I didn't have a satisfying answer.

As we head into 2026, a new year can represent a fresh start. There’s a renewed focus on resolutions, vision boards, and apps to support every goal. These tools can be genuinely helpful when you already have a spark and want to fuel the flames. But if the idea that things could get better this year seems highly improbable, how are you supposed to dream big?

What, exactly, is hope?

I'm a Licensed Professional Counselor who works with survivors, and unless I missed something, we didn't cover "hope" in grad school. Yet holding hope amid pain and suffering is literally my bread-and-butter. So my client's question haunted me for the better part of a week, then became a catalyst for some invaluable inquiry.

Your average dictionary definition of “hope” ranges from “to want something to happen or be true” to “the feeling that events will turn out for the best.” Nothing in these brief descriptions speaks to the strength or support required to have hope in the face of adversity.

So many of us are dealing with abuse, addiction, anxiety, betrayal, chronic illness, depression, financial stressors, grief, psychosis, trauma. The last thing we need are platitudes, and I couldn’t imagine these definitions landing well in therapy. So I tried again in my search for ”hope”, still wondering how to make it more accessible to real humans.

The American Psychological Association’s past president Thema Bryant, PhD, said that “Hope isn’t a denial of what is, but a belief that the current situation is not all that can be... You can recognize something’s wrong, but also that it’s not the end of the story.” This definition sounded a bit more approachable to me, but still … not quite it.

Finally, I stumbled onto something that tugged both my brain and my heart-strings, from the Hope Research Center, which defines hope like this: “Hope is the belief that the future will be better, and you have the power to make it so.”

What’s especially helpful is that this definition introduces “belief” as a synonym for hope. Hope can seem quiet and passive. In contrast, belief often gives people the courage and conviction to take action.

Why belief matters

Belief is often spoken about in the context of religion, but its power is also supported by science. The more positive people believe their futures to be, the better their mood, symptoms, physical health, and behavioral adjustment to new situations becomes.

In one study, belief in a wellness program's success was linked to increased positive outcomes and program participation. Even more interesting: when some people were waiting for a wellness program to begin, they showed nearly identical gains as people who were actively working through the program. That’s pretty remarkable—people got better just from believing they would get better.

But what about the opposite scenario? When past experiences have convinced you that things won’t get better. The implications are heartbreaking.

Finding a way forward

There are many ways to heal and grow, and therapy isn’t necessarily the right step for every person or circumstance. But for many, it offers a supportive, structured path to help you navigate through hopelessness: whether that means exploring limiting thoughts, sensations, beliefs, or anything else contributing to that “stuck” feeling.

A therapist can help you identify where those patterns came from, test whether or not they're still serving you, and create space for new beliefs and behaviors to take root.

The process looks different for every therapy plan, but it often starts with something relatively small: Noticing something different—but with a fresh perspective. Feeling something old–but in a new or safer space. Trying a new behavior—and then noticing a new result. Little by little, the process often leads to something observably better: perhaps, a life that begins to reflect the growing belief that change is possible, that you have agency in your life, and that the future doesn't have to be a repeat of the past.

This isn't about positive thinking or forcing yourself to "look on the bright side." It's about examining the stories you've been telling yourself, and discovering whether they're helpful and true for the life you’d like to life, a year from today.

A lot can change in a year

A year from that fateful therapy session, my client with the jade necklace is in a very different place. After psychosis had "blown up" her life, severing relationships and forever altering her career, she began slowly-but-surely to pick up the pieces again, in one of the more courageous and humbling stories in humanity I've been honored to witness.

She continued to release old stories and trauma that made her doubt her worth, and she began to believe the truth: her story mattered. Through compassionate inquiry and a small but mighty support system, she rebuilt relationships, rebuilt community, and even began to volunteer. In time, she started reporting meaningful moments in the "small things"—coffee in the sunshine, or morning walks with her dogs in the woods.

More recently, she's begun a new career in a field where she can help other survivors get access to legal services as they, too, search for hope. She now tells friends who are new to her story, "It's not easy, but I love my life. I'm here, and I'm grateful."

In another unforgettable session, she told me: "I know that I have hope, because I've remembered who I am again."

If you're struggling to imagine where you'll be a year from now, that's okay. You don't need to find that path on your own. A trusted guide can help you get there.