Messy Intentions: Manifesting Growth Without Perfection in 2026
Dear 2026,
I’m writing to you now, having had time to touch grass first. 2025 taught me how to pause without panicking, how to stay curious instead of judgmental, and how to practice acceptance without confusing it for settling. That feels worth documenting before I sprint into planning all my hopes and dreams with my color-coded calendars.
This year asked me to slow down in ways I didn’t choose but ultimately needed. Pausing became less about quitting and more about listening. I forged a space to reflect on my emotions when they tried to pass as logic, and listen to the quiet discomfort that comes before growth. I learned that curiosity is a gentler doorway than self-criticism. When I asked why instead of what is wrong with me, I found patterns instead of proof of failure. And acceptance—real acceptance—wasn’t about giving up. It was acknowledging reality so I could actually respond to it, not just resist it with a vision board and vibes.
So, 2026, here’s what I’m hoping to bring to you: soft determination, bold presence, and a maintained courageousness that doesn’t burn me out by March.
I want soft determination; meaning that I’ll keep showing up without gripping so tightly. It’s discipline with room to breathe. It’s choosing consistency over intensity, progress over perfection, and rest as a strategy—not a reward I have to earn.
I think a bold presence means permission to take up space even when my voice shakes, even when I’m the only one in the room who feels the way I do. And courageousness—well, I want to keep her. Not the adrenaline-fueled variety that thrives on crisis, but the quieter bravery of being assured of yourself and setting boundaries.
Here’s what I hope unfolds—not as promises or even goals, but as intentions I’m practicing in real time.
We have got to continue to figure out emotional regulation—not as a buzzword, but as a lived, daily skill. The kind that shows up in traffic, in family group texts, and during meetings that could have been emails. I want to keep talking about how to notice emotions without being hijacked by them, figure out how to respond instead of react, and how to build nervous system safety in a world that rarely slows down for us (am I asking for too much? Who’s to say!?). Think less “always calm” and more “able to recover.”
For the love of all that is good in this life, work on that communication—especially with opposing or triggering personalities. The assertive ones, the avoidant ones, the emotionally expressive ones, and the ones who claim they’re “just logical” (you know who you are). I am hoping to create a space of accountability with boundaries and releasing what weighs me down in my relationships.
Please let me hold onto hope—not the toxic, bypassing kind, but the grounded kind that survives disappointment and confusion. The kind that says, this is hard and I’m still here. Hope that doesn’t require certainty, just compassion.
I'll pay attention to signs that suggest I am burning out. I know WHEN I'm burnt out, I just am still learning how to catch it before it’s too heavy. Ok– now my intentions list is overachieving. Ultimately, I want to normalize pulling back before the menty b hits.
2026, my word for you is luminosity. I want to be intentional about finding ways to bring light and strength to all I set my mind to this year. I’m not asking you to be easy (but like wouldn’t be opposed to an easier modification). Maybe just some guidance and direction.
This time next year you’ll probably still be messy. But let’s aim to be more unapologetic with the messiness.
—The Messy Millennial