When I think about 2026, I’m not thinking in terms of reinvention, but rather about intention, about what I want to release, what I want to protect, and how I want to show up in my life physically, emotionally, and relationally, both for myself and for others.

This year has been shaped by health challenges, uncertainty, many steps forward with just as many backward, and constant adaptation, but my hopes for what comes next extend far beyond that. They are more than just my health. They include how I care for my body without letting it define me, how I treat myself with more patience, how I show up in friendships and family, how I approach dating without fear or low self-esteem, how I deepen my faith and rebuild my relationship with God, and how I make space for joy again. These are not plans to fix everything, but grounded hopes for a life that feels steadier, fuller, and more aligned.

1. I will stop trying to fix everything.

The belief that every challenge, delay, or discomfort needs to be solve immediately is not productive. Not everything requires correction or control and life will continue regardless. Some things ask for patience, acceptance, and trust that I can move forward without having all the answers and still succeed.

Tangible task: I will pause before reacting, sit with the feeling, and journal when I can’t figure out my way forward, asking, “does this actually need to be fixed right now?”

“You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and work in progress at the same time.”

—Sophia Bush

2. I will care for my body without it consuming me.

I will prioritize my health as I do now, but in ways that feel supportive and positive, not obsessive. My chronic illnesses are lifelong and can’t be ignored, but I need balance. I will listen to my body, respect its limits, and care for it thoughtfully without allowing it to dominate my identity, thoughts, and my purpose, or dictate my worth.

Tangible task: Stick to consistent, sustainable routines (meds, appointments, movement, rest) that I must have, but intentionally protect a specific amount of time each week that is not health-focused.

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation.”

—Audre Lorde

3. I will be kinder to my mind.

Negative talk is so damaging and I’ve done it my whole life. I need to pay attention when self-criticism and fear take over and choose to give myself grace and compassion instead. I will work toward quieting the constant mental noise of anticipation and comparison, jumping to conclusions, and give myself permission to think more gently and patiently. They always say you’re your own worst critic, and this year I’m choosing to listen less to that voice and more to the one that speaks to being kind.

Tangible task: I will continue to attend therapy weekly, EMDR, and work on healthier communication skills.

“Talk to yourself like you would to someone you love.”

—Brené Brown

4. I will show up honestly and completely in relationships.

I will invest in relationships where I feel safe, seen, and respected, and where that care is reciprocated. I will communicate openly, set boundaries without guilt, and stop shrinking or overextending myself to maintain connection. I will also show up for the people in my life by offering genuine support, listening to their worries, and celebrating their blessings.

I’m learning how to stand up for myself and trust my lived experience, even when it doesn’t match other people’s opinions or expectations. Their perspective doesn’t invalidate what I know to be true about my own life.

Tangible task: Practice clear communication, check in with my own needs before saying yes, and prioritize relationships that feel mutual and steady.

“The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood.”

—Ralph G. Nichols

5. I will approach meeting new people with confidence and self-respect.

Meeting new people needs to be a priority this year. Connecting with others is beneficial for personal growth, but I also need to do that without apologizing for who I am or minimizing my needs. My health, my past, my shortcomings aren’t embarrassing and shouldn’t be a burden. I need to trust my instincts, honor my boundaries, and believe that the right people won’t require me to compromise myself and see me as an equal.

Tangible task: be intentional while dating and don’t settle for less than I deserve. Attend meet up groups, do more activities, or reignite old friendships I have missed.

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”

—Maya Angelou

6. I will deepen my faith without expectations.

My faith and my relationship with God have been both strong and broken. I can’t count the times I’ve blamed this difficult, unfair life on my faith, questioning why things have unfolded the way they have. Over time, I have abandoned it all together, and I’ve had to relearn what faith actually asks of me. The purpose isn’t transactional or to promise an easy or protected life, but to offer guidance, truth, and presence through hardship. To remind me that faith isn’t about avoiding suffering, but about how we endure it, grow through it, and remain connected even when things don’t make sense.

Tangible task: Set aside time to pray daily and reflect without asking for anything specific. Find interesting and meaningful ways to ground myself and let go of expectations that I need a timeline.

“Sometimes faith is simply staying when everything in you wants to run.”

—Unknown

7. I will always make space for joy.

I often see my life as one large picture rather than many small moments each day. It’s hard to see the good things, the fun things, the bright days. I need to experience those days without guilt, hesitation, or justification. I want to notice and welcome moments of happiness, no matter how small, and let them matter.

I grew up doing anything and everything: gymnastics, basketball, tennis, diving, volleyball, art camp, hiking, reading, riding bikes with friends, baking…where did my love and joy for life disappear? I’ve been ill since I can remember and it never stopped me then. I know it’s more challenging and complicated now and I can’t participate in many things, but I want that spark back.
I also need perspective. Even if it’s rained on an already incredibly difficult day, I know there are harder times, more struggles, and less hope for others. I have so much to be thankful for and truly blessed given the circumstances.

Tangible task: Write down one thing each day that made me laugh, made me happy, or made the people around me happy. Find small things each week that I enjoy doing or feeling without minimizing or rushing past them. See the glass half full.

“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”

—Robert Brault

The word resolutions comes with pressure. Expectations to commit, succeed, and somehow stay consistent no matter what. Lose weight, save more money, find a better job…That isn’t what these are meant to be for me. These resolutions are my reminders that I still have a great life and I have so much I still want to do and see. I know I can’t control how my body is or what’s to come, but I don’t want my life to be sad, to be full of regrets. I don’t expect to follow them flawlessly, but I do need to return to them when I drift. I know bad days are inevitable and many things will still be heavy, uncertain, or unfinished.

2026 doesn’t need to be extraordinary and full of transactional or material things to be meaningful. If I can move through it with more patience, purpose, presence, faith, and compassion (for myself and for others) that will be enough.

Thanks for reading.