My 2025 Year in Review: What I Carried, What I Survived, What I’m Choosing Now.

This past year didn’t move in a straight line.

It felt more like a spiral: repeating lessons, revisiting old wounds, growing in circles instead of ladders…..And for the first time in a long time, I let myself tell the truth about that.

I struggled.

More than I thought I would.

There were months when my nervous system felt frayed, when I couldn’t think straight, when the pressure of being everything to my family, my partner, my work, my future self all felt like too much weight on too little sleep.

Some seasons asked more of me than I had to give.

Some days I moved through grief I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying. Some moments showed me exactly where old patterns still lived in my body: over-functioning, over-explaining, shrinking to stay safe, silencing myself to keep the peace….And yet: this year also revealed how much I’ve grown.

Because even in the mess, I kept coming back to myself.

To herbal routines.

To nervous system repair.

To honesty.

To the slow rebuilding of internal authority.

I learned that clarity isn’t a lightning strike in the night.

It’s a series of tiny choices made in the middle of chaos.

It’s noticing the tension before it turns into burnout.

It’s letting myself be supported instead of bracing for disaster alone.

It’s seeing where I abandon myself….and choosing differently, even if my hands shake.

I realized I was tired of carrying the belief that I needed permission to exist. Tired of shrinking my voice because it was easier than confronting the fear of being “too much.” Tired of holding other people’s comfort above my own truth.

This year taught me that growth isn’t always graceful. Sometimes it looks like ugly crying on the bathroom floor….Sometimes it looks like setting boundaries you don’t feel ready to hold. Sometimes it looks like reclaiming parts of yourself you thought were destroyed and gone forever….And in the middle of all of this… something new took root:

A desire.

A direction.

A truth I can finally say without flinching:

I am stepping into Sovereign Ascension.

Not the kind where I crown myself a queen and pretend to know everything. But the kind where I stand in my own authority while staying coachable, curious, and devoted to mastery. The kind where I trust my voice, my path, and my lived experience. The kind where I stop apologizing for who I am: neurodivergent, intuitive, relentless, soft, powerful, human.

To ascend sovereignly doesn’t mean I rise alone. It means I rise without abandoning myself. It means I accept mentorship without giving away my agency. It means I hold my boundaries with clarity instead of guilt. It means I take up space without shrinking to fit old versions of me.

If this past year broke anything, it was only what needed to fall away. And if it rebuilt anything, it was the foundation I’ll be standing on in 2026. So here is my intention as I step into the next chapter: I intend to lead myself with clarity, protect my peace fiercely, and keep expanding into the woman I’ve always been becoming.

This is the year I stop carrying what isn’t mine to hold. This is the year I stop abandoning my own needs. This is the year I let my work, my healing, my mission, and my joy take up real space and help real people.

This is the year of Sovereign Ascension. And I’m finally ready for it.

If you want to honor the year you’ve lived, don’t start with your achievements. Start with your body. Start with the moments that broke you open, the patterns you’re tired of carrying, and the truths you’re finally willing to name and then let go of. Honoring your year is an act of nervous system repair, not perfection. If you feel safe, share one thing you’re releasing and one thing you’re choosing as you enter 2026. Let yourself be met in the realness and transition of this.