12/31/2025
My word for 2026 is certainty.
Not the kind that comes from controlling everything. The kind that comes from finally knowing who you are—and being unwilling to abandon yourself.
For years, I was the person everyone leaned on. I held space. I showed up. I gave and gave until there was nothing left for me. I thought that was purpose. I thought exhaustion was proof I was doing it right.
It wasn’t.
Here’s what I’ve learned: You cannot pour endlessly without eventually running dry. And running dry isn’t noble—it’s a pattern.
One that often starts in childhood. One that tells us our worth is measured by how much we sacrifice for others.
Somewhere along the way, I also lost myself. I performed the version of me I thought people needed. I edited myself. I shrunk to fit rooms that were never meant for me.
2026 is the year this stops once and for all.
I’m certain now that authenticity is the foundation. That who I actually am is more valuable than who I’ve pretended to be. That the right people will find me when I stop hiding.
I’m certain that my energy is sacred. That saying no is a complete sentence. That I’m allowed to receive as much as I give.
I’m certain that the boring basics still work. That small daily wins compound. That finishing matters more than starting.
I’m certain that not everyone will like me—and I’ve made peace with that.
I’m certain that my health is my wealth. That my body deserves to be honored. That rest is productive.
I’m certain that abundance isn’t earned through depletion. It’s allowed by believing I’m worthy of it.
If you’ve spent your life carrying weight that was never yours—this is your permission slip to put it down. To stop performing. To come home to yourself.
Certainty isn’t arrogance. It’s alignment.
And 2026? It’s already written.
Drop a 🔥 if you’re entering your certain era.