As I step into 2026, I’m carrying a deep sense of gratitude with me. 2025 was a year of blessings—some loud and obvious, others quiet and tucked into ordinary days. It wasn’t perfect, but it was meaningful. And for that, I’m thankful.
This past year reminded me that gratitude doesn’t always come from big wins. Sometimes it shows up in routines that hold us together, in lessons learned the hard way, and in moments we didn’t realize were shaping us until we looked back. I’m entering this new year with a full heart, not because everything went according to plan, but because I grew through it.
Now, as 2026 begins, my word is intentional.
Not hustle.
Not perfection.
Not “doing more.”
Just intention.
I’m a wife, a mom to tweens, a full-time work-from-home employee, and someone who shows up consistently to share and build with a community I truly treasure. These roles overlap, blur, and sometimes compete with one another. For a long time, I tried to juggle them by running faster. What I’ve learned is that speed doesn’t create balance—presence does.
This year, I want to live with more awareness in every role I hold.
As a wife, that means choosing connection even on busy days. It’s easy to let schedules, responsibilities, and exhaustion take the lead. Intention looks like small check-ins, shared laughter, honest conversations, and remembering that partnership is built in the everyday moments—not just the milestones.
As a mom of tweens, intention feels especially important. This season of parenting is tender in a quiet way. They’re not little anymore, but they’re not grown either. They’re figuring out who they are, and I’m learning how to give them space while still being a steady presence. In 2026, I want to listen more than I lecture. I want to be curious instead of reactive. I want my kids to feel safe being exactly who they are, even when it’s messy or confusing.
Working full-time from home has been both a gift and a challenge. The flexibility is something I don’t take lightly, but the lines between work and life can blur quickly. This year, intention means protecting my energy. It means setting clearer boundaries, honoring rest without guilt, and remembering that productivity isn’t the same as worth. I want my work to be meaningful—but not at the cost of my well-being.
And then there’s this community.
This space has grown into something I deeply value. It’s not just numbers or content—it’s real people showing up, learning, navigating life, and growing alongside me. In 2026, I want to continue sharing in a way that’s honest and helpful. Not polished for the sake of appearances, not preachy, and not performative. Just real experiences, practical insights, and encouragement that says, “You’re not alone in this.”
I don’t have all the answers—and I’m not trying to. What I do have is lived experience, lessons learned, and a willingness to keep learning out loud. That’s what I want this space to remain: a place where growth feels possible, not overwhelming.
Being intentional doesn’t mean every day will be calm or perfectly planned. Life will still be full. There will be deadlines, emotions, noise, and unexpected turns. Intention simply means I want to choose how I show up, instead of running on autopilot.
It means asking:
- Does this align with what matters most?
- Is this adding value or just adding pressure?
- Do I need to lean in—or let go?
Some days, intention will look like productivity and progress. Other days, it will look like rest, saying no, or choosing presence over performance. Both are valid.
As I welcome 2026, I’m not setting rigid resolutions. I’m setting a direction. One rooted in gratitude for where I’ve been and clarity about where I’m going. I want a life that feels aligned—not rushed. Purposeful—not overfilled. Grounded—not constantly chasing the next thing.
If you’re entering this year feeling hopeful, tired, excited, uncertain—or all of the above—you’re not behind. You’re human. And there’s space for you to move forward in a way that honors your season.
Here’s to 2026.
To intention.
To growth that feels sustainable.
And to choosing presence, one day at a time.
