Holiday Ish and Just Surviving Still Counts

My goal was to have this blog written, posted, and out by Monday evening. Welp, it is New Year’s Eve Day, late morning here in Maui, and here I am finally getting around to do the fucking thing. My hypercritical side (who’s voice sounds so much like my mother’s) is commenting about procrastination, avoidance, and sabotage. While there may be aspects of that coming into play here, the biggest resistance force is being balls deep in my feelers. Sitting with deep isolation and loneliness. Acknowledging that I know a fuck ton of people but in all reality, have very few close connections. Acknowledging the irony that when I was a toxic person, I was surrounded by “loved ones,” but now that I have done significant healing and growing, most of those connections no longer fit. This isn't a Melissa Sad Panda Pitty Party, but simply an observation and reflection. The holidays used to be such a magical time for me. Traditions with my grandma, decorations, lights, baking, going to see Santa with Tink. Now, the holidays are just survival. For a lot of people, that alone took effort, energy, and a whole lot of nervous system regulation.

Here we are, staring down the New Year. We’re closing out 2025 and opening the door to 2026….yes, that is in fact how numbers work…and along with it comes the inevitable flood of highlight reels, the best of 2025, the year-end recaps. The “look what I accomplished.” The shiny posts about growth, success, gratitude, and glow-ups. If it’s not your friends posting them, it’ll be the random scroll, and either way, you’re going to be surrounded by it.

And here’s the thing about highlights, they’re usually just that. Highlights. Most people don’t show you the mess in between. They don’t show you the grief, the panic spirals, the nights they cried themselves to sleep, the moments they questioned everything, or the days where simply getting out of bed felt like a win. So when you’re scrolling and seeing the new house, the engagement, the baby, the promotion, the body transformation, it can get really fucking easy to look at your own life and feel like you somehow fell behind. Like you missed something. Like you should have done more, been more, become more.

Sometimes the biggest win isn’t thriving. Sometimes it’s surviving. And for many of us, that’s the real celebration. A lot of people are walking into this new year grieving. Saying goodbye to people, pets, relationships, dreams, versions of themselves, or expectations they thought would’ve come true by now. So if all you did this year was survive, I need you to hear this clearly: I am so fucking proud of you. That counts. That matters.

If that wasn’t enough, cue the cultural pressure of New Year resolutions. New Year, New Me. As someone who used to buy into that narrative, I’m officially calling bullshit. At some point we decided January 1st was the day you were supposed to magically fix your life, overhaul your habits, heal your trauma, and emerge as a shinier, more disciplined version of yourself. That’s not how humans work. You don’t need a calendar flip to decide you want something different. You can choose growth on a random Tuesday in March or a quiet Sunday in July. There is no rule that says transformation has to start at midnight on January 1st.

Can we also talk about the word resolution for a second? It’s harsh. Heavy. Rigid. Life is already hard enough without layering on more pressure and self-judgment. What if instead of “resolutions,” we thought in terms of intentions?

Intentions about what you’re ready to release.

Intentions about what you don’t want to carry forward.

Intentions that leave room for grace, knowing damn well that habits, mindsets, and lifestyles don’t just flip overnight because the year changed.

And here’s the part I really want to highlight (Ha, giggle, groan, eye-roll):

You can have goals and still be worthy exactly as you are.

The “new you” narrative quietly implies that the current you isn’t enough—that you need fixing, improving, or correcting in order to deserve good things. Hard pass. There is nothing wrong with you. You might feel better as you move toward certain goals—eating differently, moving your body, making more money, reading more books—but none of that determines your worth. You are worthy now. You are valuable now. You belong now. Not later. Not when you’ve figured it all out. Right now, in this exact version of you.

So as we step into 2026, I invite you to go gently. Release what no longer serves you without shaming yourself for having carried it this far. Set intentions that actually feed your spirit instead of punish your humanity. Honor the fact that surviving was not a failure—it was strength. And if you’re feeling the pull to do this next chapter differently, with more clarity, compassion, and self-trust, you don’t have to figure that out alone. I offer complimentary Freedom Formula calls for exactly this—space to unpack where you are, where you want to go, and what’s getting in the way, without pressure or fixing. If that feels supportive, send me an email, [email protected] and lets chat.

And remember, Friends

You Matter