Looking Back and Planning Forward: My Personal Annual Review Process

One of my favorite questions to ask mentees, team members, and colleagues is, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”. Working alongside exceptionally smart and driven people at Amazon, I’m often surprised by how many struggle to answer this question. To be fair, many have an answer.

During my MBA, we had an assignment to write our own eulogy — an eye-opening exercise. Surprisingly, the aspirations I included had little to do with the short-term goals I had been pursuing. For example, “Get an offer from a top strategy consulting firm” was absent from my imagined legacy. Instead, my 80-year-old self reflected on “a long and successful career” before moving on to more meaningful themes. This exercise revealed that I had been undervaluing areas essential for long-term fulfillment. While not everyone found the exercise valuable—a classmate of mine openly disliked it—I gained clarity from the long-term perspective.

At the end of the MBA program, I set ten short-term (2-year) and ten long-term (15-year) goals. Reflecting on them at my 15-year reunion this year, I realized I had achieved all my short-term goals, even if some took longer than planned. For the long-term goals, I have achieved 70% so far, and I continue working on the rest.

At work, I rely on a productivity system to stay focused on my priorities (see my post on this), and I’ve developed a similar approach for my personal goals. Inspired by Chris Guillebeau’s annual review process, which I discovered in 2011, I’ve been conducting a yearly reflection exercise since. It’s fascinating to look back and see how my goals and priorities have evolved over time.

Every late December, I set aside a quiet morning for this annual reflection. While Chris Guillebeau, who has ADHD, prefers breaking the process into smaller sessions, I find dedicating a single focused block of time works best for me. I have to convince my husband to take care of the kids then, so Chris’ recommendation to “take a week” is not feasible in my case. During this reflection, I answer eight key questions and document my responses.

1. What went well this year? (List at least 7 things, but often more like 30)

2. What didn’t go well? (List at least 7 things)

3. How satisfied am I with my current life? (Rate on a scale of 1-10)

4. Do I have any significant unfulfilled dreams? (Identify 2-3)

5. Are my most important relationships in harmony? (Reflect and assess)

6. Did I dedicate enough quality time to my family? (Yes/No)

7. Did I learn enough new things? (Yes/No, include a list of biggest learnings)

8. Did I build new friendships and strengthen old ones? (Yes/No)

Over the years, I’ve noticed an interesting trend. When I began this exercise in 2011, the number of things that went well was roughly equal to those that didn’t. In recent years, however, the “went well” column has doubled or even tripled in length. I believe this is no coincidence.

I keep my system intentionally simple and accessible. My spreadsheet lives in the cloud, so I can update it from anywhere—a critical feature for staying consistent.

At the bottom of my current year’s tab, I answer these reflection questions. Next, I review each goal from the year and mark it as Red (missed), Amber (partially achieved), or Green (achieved). This color-coding provides a quick visual overview of my progress. For example, in 2024, I might see 15 red lines, 9 amber lines, and 39 green ones. Note to self: too many goals; simplify next year.

For the upcoming year, I start a new tab with three guiding questions:

1. What will I regret not doing in my life? (Inspired by Jeff Bezos’ regret minimization framework)

2. What is my life mission? (This is my 'why')

3. What will this new year be a year of? (Inspired by Jesse Itzler, who definitely knows how to have fun — sometimes I don’t have the answer in December, it emerges during monthly reviews)

I place these questions at the top of the new year tab because I want to see them every time I open the spreadsheet.

I then set at least three SMART goals across eight broad categories:

• Health & Energy

• Family & Love

• Wealth

• Career & Impact

• Self-Expression & Growth

• Friends & Social Connections

• Giving & Environment

• Travel

SMART goals are Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound. For example, “Travel to five new countries this year” qualifies as SMART, while “Be more social” does not.

Some goals carry over from the previous year, while others are born from the reflection. For example, in 2022, my Health category was mostly red and amber. In response, I set two specific goals for 2023: “Read at least one book on health and longevity” (I chose Outlive by Peter Attia) and “Visit a dietician”. I met both goals and gained valuable insights.

One actionable experiment suggested by the dietician was to start family meals with only vegetables on the table. Surprisingly, this habit stuck, and sometimes the kids eat so many veggies they’re not interested in anything else. Another experiment—going gluten-free—lasted about nine months but ultimately didn’t stick. Still, as a result of the learning and experiments, the Health & energy section turned mostly green in 2023 and 2024.

I don’t beat myself up over Red goals. I use them as opportunities for adjustment. For example, I didn’t “Finish 12 new business books this year,” but I did buy and start 36, fully completed six, and re-read three. I also discovered long-form podcasts, which are easier to consume on the go. My favorite ones are Lex Fridman, Steven Bartlett, and Codie Sanchez. Next year, Audible might be a worthwhile investment.

This is what I do in December.

Then on the first Saturday of each month, I spend about 30 minutes reviewing my goals. I check if each goal is still valid or needs adjustment. For example, I removed “Reach C1 level in French” from my list because, while I can handle daily tasks in French, I don’t have the bandwidth to reach perfection.

Similarly, if I notice I haven’t “Read one book a day to my daughter”, I recommit to the goal, plan a library visit, or swap books with a friend. This also helps to “Stay connected to my friends” goal.

At the six-month mark, I start coloring goals as Green, Amber, or Red. For goals showing no progress, I brainstorm actionable next steps and schedule them.

One advantage of keeping the spreadsheet cloud-based is its accessibility. When I learn something new or gain insight related to a goal, I immediately update it. For example, in 2021, I discovered a helpful fitness framework: “Frequency > Duration > Intensity.” This insight led me to increase my weekly fitness sessions from two to four, prioritizing consistency.

I also record data near relevant goals. After a body scan in 2023, I saved the results in my spreadsheet for easy reference. In 2025, I’ll do another scan and compare results.

Over the years, I’ve had a couple of realizations:

Focus on Inputs, Not Outputs (this one is very Amazonian): Goals like “Get 8 hours of sleep every night” are output goals and hard to measure. Instead, I converted it into an input goal: “Go to bed before 11 PM on 4 out of 7 nights per week (tracked via Oura Ring)”. Input goals are easier to track and habit-forming.

Time Horizons Matter: I often overestimate what I can achieve in one year but underestimate what I can achieve in ten. In 2012, I set 10-year goals. When I reviewed them in 2022, 12 were green, 4 were red, and 4 were amber. I now have a stretch goal for 2032 😊

Here is a template of the plan I use on GoogleDocs. Feel free to copy and use it.

I hope this reflection process inspires you as you set your goals for 2025. If you know someone who might benefit from this, feel free to share it with them. And if you’d like more content like this, please subscribe—your support keeps me motivated to keep writing!