I usually sit down at the end of the year ready to reflect, summarize, and tie everything up with a neat little bow. This year? Not so much. I’ve thought about it a lot, but the words have been slippery. Mostly because… 2025 was a lot.
Here’s What 2025 Taught Me (Whether I Asked or Not)
Some of the changes were chosen—like moving back to a place that has always felt like home. Others were forced, like being laid off from my remote writing job. Both kinds of change cracked open doors I didn’t exactly know what to do with.
Working remotely has its perks (hello, sweatpants and slippers—I will never forget you). But it can also be quietly lonely. My dog was my coworker. And while he’s an excellent tug-of-war champion and a very good boy, he’s not much for brainstorming or watercooler banter.
So after that unexpected shift, the million-dollar question appeared: Do I stick with what’s safe and familiar—another remote job, writing solo all day, every day? Or do I take a slightly terrifying leap back into the world of people and try something new?
I chose the leap.
I’ll be starting the new year in a completely new arena, using my background and skills in a different way. It’s exciting. It’s nerve-wracking. And I’m hoping I’ll bring a little sunshine and a lot of smiles with me. Fingers crossed (and maybe toes, just in case).
But 2025 wasn’t just about work and big decisions.
It gave me time in nature and walks with my dog, podcasts playing through my AirPods, my thoughts wandering as freely as my feet. It gave me long morning hikes on the trail and quiet evenings on the cozy couch with my husband. A new home to settle into and explore. Travel. Weddings. Big family adventures balanced by small, quiet moments.
There were surprises—some wonderful, some devastating. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I discovered something important: I can do hard things. Even when I doubt myself. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’d rather not. Even when the world seems confusing.
Like I said—a lot.
And honestly? I’m grateful for all of it.
I’m also grateful that there’s more to come in 2026.
The Year of Change, Followed by a Year of Intention
What’s ahead? Trying new hobbies. Diving into this new career. Meeting new people. Visiting new places. But I don’t want to focus only on what’s new. I want to keep nurturing the relationships that already mean the world to me. To stay true to myself. To remember that my biggest goal—always—is making sure my people feel loved, supported, and seen.
So while I may not have all the perfect words to neatly wrap up 2025, I can say this: it was a year of change. Some chosen. Some unexpected. All of it shaping me in ways I’m still uncovering.
As I step into 2026, the word I’m carrying with me is Intentional—living with care and purpose. Being thoughtful about where I place my energy, how I show up for the people I love, and the choices I make, both big and small. Saying yes when it matters. Saying no when it’s needed. Leaving room for growth, joy, and rest.
I don’t need everything figured out. I just want to move forward with intention, rooted, open, and hopeful for what’s ahead.
Here’s to 2026, and to choosing a life that feels true, connected, and deeply intentional.
sharing the stairs 