If you know me at all, you know I don’t do resolutions. I’m more of a pattern seeker. I believe in reflection. In looking back before charging forward. I want to see the storms l’ve weathered before I face the ones ahead. So at the turn of each year, I ask myself: What have I endured? Where did I grow? Where do I need more focus? What is no longer working—and needs to go? And most importantly: Is the way I’m showing up aligned with who I say I want to be? Or is there dissonance?

From those answers, I choose a word for the year—as a compass, not a cage.
(If you’ve listened to my podcast, you know I talk about this at length.)

2025’s word was Anchored.

Anchored in truth. Steady in every season.
No matter the tide, I surrender.
No storm can shake what is deeply rooted in me.

And thank God it was—because 2025 brought me to my breaking point.

That word became the tether that held me when everything familiar began to fall apart. I was lost. Trying to fit myself into a mold that was never mine to wear. Accepting the bare minimum. Holding onto hope with white knuckles. Offering fractions of myself to stay chosen, to stay safe… to stay at all.

Anchored meant refusing to disappear when the current was strong. And good Lord—did the storms rage.

This year stripped me bare, forged me in fire, and then washed me clean.

It taught me what happens when a woman confuses endurance with love. When she mistakes self-erasure for devotion. When she equates attention and affection with worth. It taught me that words -titles, promises, roles- mean nothing without embodied action. A life can wear the “right” label and still be painfully lonely.

And here’s where my body enters the conversation—because she always does.

What I didn’t understand then—but understand now—is that loneliness isn’t always about being alone. Sometimes it’s the result of disconnection. From your truth. From your needs. From your own internal signals.

I spent years believing my ability to endure was a virtue. That my capacity to tolerate discomfort, emotional inconsistency, and self-sacrifice made me strong. But endurance is not the same as capacity. Capacity is what allows a woman to stay present, regulated, and whole without disappearing. Endurance just teaches her how to survive while slowly disappearing.

My body knew the difference long before I did.

As a cycling, perimenopausal woman, my nervous system stopped cooperating with that old story. The cost of disconnection became impossible to ignore—showing up as exhaustion, irritability, inflammation, and a cycle that was complete trash. All the symptoms in full force. My body wasn’t failing me. She was asking me to stop abandoning myself.

That realization changed everything.

For most of my life, I was conditioned to put the happiness of others before my own. I muted myself—the woman God created me to be—to fit an ideal. Trying to be better. Trying to be more. Trying to earn love. But none of it ever worked. Because you cannot pour from an empty cup. And no amount of bubble baths or spa days can compensate for chronic self-abandonment.

When endurance stopped working, my body took over.

Perimenopause has a way of dismantling the “good-girl” conditioning. It lowers estrogen, raises truth, and exposes every place we’ve been leaking energy. My nervous system could no longer tolerate performance, pretense, or suppression. My “give-a-damn” broke. And honestly? Thank God.

I was forced to reckon with all of me -not the palatable parts, not the polished ones. Oh no…

The emotional me. The intense me. The deeply feeling, wildly expressive me.

Yes, I am a lot. I show up with everything I have. And no—I will not mute my emotions anymore.

What I know now is that muting myself was never about love—it was about disconnection. And the moment I stopped disconnecting from myself, my capacity changed. Not my tolerance, but my capacity for truth, intimacy, real connection and GROWTH.

That truth cost me my marriage.

And so no, I am not walking into 2026 trying to be a “significant other” again—because what does that even mean if the role itself requires self-abandonment?

We now understand—both physiologically and emotionally—that chronic self-silencing is a death sentence for the nervous system. If I am going to thrive through menopause—and not merely survive—something has to change.

Since the only thing I can control is me, I chose separation. Not from love—but from illusion.

What I want now can’t be summarized by a label.

I want a life shared in truth. I want consistency over intention. Presence over performance. Follow-through over fantasy. I want to see fruit.

I want a partner who shows up when it’s inconvenient. Who stays when it would be easier to leave. Someone who can hold my unfiltered thoughts, dance in the kitchen, laugh with abandon, and honor joy as sacred.

I want a spiritual partnership—not in words, but in how we live, repair, forgive, and choose each other daily.

I want love that feels like home because it is safe, grounded, and honest.
I want authentic communication.
I want family that feels like friends and friends that feel like family.
I want to build a community that is family.

I am no longer available for drama, games, or relationships that require vigilance or shrinking. No more walking on eggshells. I want devotion that is visible, steady, and KIND.

Most of all, I want my children to witness love lived with integrity -where respect is mutual, care is consistent, and no one has to disappear to belong. Where emotions are welcomed. Where growth is shared.

This dream isn’t naïve. It isn’t extravagant.

But it will require honesty—especially with myself.
Boundaries and the courage to hold them consistently.

So as I step into 2026, my word is Tenacious.

Tenacious doesn’t mean hardened. It doesn’t mean forceful. It means rooted resolve. It means holding fast to what is true, good, and life-giving—even when it would be easier to settle, shrink, or stay silent.

Anchored kept me from drifting.
Tenacious will keep me from compromising.

This year, I am choosing relationships where words and actions finally agree.

I am choosing a life that reflects what I say I value.

I am choosing love that is lived—not promised.

Because my life has taught me this:

Love isn’t what you call it.
It’s what you tend.
It’s what you protect.
It’s what you refuse to abandon.

And as I move forward, I do so anchored in truth, and tenacious in how I honor my body, my boundaries, and my becoming. I’m not chasing a “better version” of myself—I’m learning to listen. To my nervous system. To my hormones. To the quiet wisdom of a body that has been signaling truth long before my mind was ready to hear it.

What I’ve learned—through loss, rebuilding, and listening—is this:

You cannot build a grounded life in a body you don’t understand.

For years, I tried to change my mindset, my habits, my relationships—all while learning the language my body speaks. I mistook symptoms for weakness. Cycles for inconvenience. Hormonal shifts for personal failure. But your body is not betraying you. She is briefing you.

This is why I created Cycle SMART.

Not as a program to “fix” women—but as a framework to help you finally understand yourself. Your hormones. Your nervous system. Your energy. Your emotional needs across the month and across seasons of life.

Cycle SMART teaches you how to:

Work with your cycle instead of overriding it
Build metabolic and emotional stability without self-erasure
Recognize when your body is asking for nourishment, rest, boundaries, or truth
Increase capacity—not just endurance—so you can stay present, regulated, and whole

Because when a woman understands her body, she stops negotiating her worth.

She stops abandoning herself to stay chosen. She stops mistaking survival for strength. And everything begins to reorganize—her health, her relationships, her work, her sense of self.

This year isn’t about becoming someone new.It’s about remembering who you are—and learning how to honor her in real time.

If you’re ready to stop pushing through and start listening, Cycle SMART is where that conversation begins.

Learn more about Cycle SMART here