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.