Here we are at the start of a new year.
Most people are focused on resolutions — lists of things they want to do better, fix, or finally get right.
Personally, that’s never worked for me.
It just adds one more thing to the long list of expectations I already feel like I’m supposed to live up to. And if I’m being honest, I can’t handle one more thing on that list.
So instead of resolutions, I’m choosing a word for 2026.
Presence.
I know for a lot of people, 2025 was hard.
It was for me too — mentally, emotionally, and physically.
I started the year in what looked, from the outside, like a great place. I received an amazing performance review and fully expected a significant raise. It should have felt validating.
Instead, I felt dread.
I knew immediately that I had set the bar too high for myself — and that I couldn’t continue operating at that pace. I noticed it. I felt it. And still, I didn’t listen.
I kept working the same way.
Halfway through the year, my body made the decision for me.
I was lying in the ER with a life-threatening issue. That moment forced me to stop — and really reflect.
What was actually happening beneath the surface
When I slowed down enough to pay attention, a few things became very clear:
- I wasn’t setting boundaries at work. I was trying to be everything for everyone.
- I was overthinking every decision — even something as simple as when to take a shower.
- I was living entirely in my head. I stayed quiet in meetings, didn’t ask questions, held back solutions I knew were better, and then felt frustrated when other decisions were made.
- I wasn’t acting like myself. I was trying to show up as the version of me I thought my peers and leaders wanted — terrified that if I was fully myself, they’d discover the “truth”: that I wasn’t capable of doing this job.
From the outside, people thought I had it all together. They complimented my work and told me I was doing a great job.
Inside, I felt completely lost.
Every night I went home feeling like I’d accomplished nothing. I had no sense of direction. Everything felt messy and overwhelming. I cried on my commute — every single day.
That was a problem.
What I didn’t need — and what I actually needed
I didn’t need more mindset hacks.
I didn’t need motivation.
I didn’t need fixing.
And I definitely didn’t need urgency.
I already had all of that.
What I needed was internal regulation, self-trust, integration, and clarity.
The irony wasn’t lost on me — I was coaching my employees through these very things every day. Helping them build confidence. Teaching them how not to end up where I was.
So I finally asked myself:
Why can I support others through this — but not myself?
That’s when I began practicing what I had been preaching.
What started to change
The shifts weren’t dramatic at first. They were subtle, but powerful.
I paused before reacting.
I stepped away instead of spiraling.
I sat with decisions instead of forcing them.
I began to trust my timing. I stopped believing I needed certainty before acting. I accepted that I couldn’t prepare for every possible outcome — and remembered that I had already proven my ability to handle challenges as they arose.
I felt less alone in my thoughts.
I started having real conversations — asking questions, offering ideas, collaborating instead of silently carrying everything myself. And in doing that, I realized something important:
People wanted to support me, just as much as I wanted to support them.
This is what this work is really about
We don’t always have to be sure.
This work is about creating space to explore what’s possible — without pressure, urgency, or commitment.
Sometimes, all you need is to get the thoughts out of your head.
And sometimes, it helps to do that with a trained, trusted professional whose sole purpose is to be your ally, your sounding board, and your support.
A calm conversation to help you gain clarity – no pressure, no obligation.
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