2025: The Season of Becoming

Unlike previous years (2020, 2022, 2023, 2024), I’m writing this reflection a little bit earlier. It’s October 14th, the day after Canadian Thanksgiving, and I’m sitting in my kitchen listening to the radio. Tenille Arts’ Back Then, Right Now is playing, and I can’t help but smile at how fitting it feels—remembering who I was, honouring who I’ve become and choosing who I want to be next.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I stepped away from work—a pause to focus on my health and repair my foundation. And as I sit here, I realize that when I chose the word BUILD for 2025, I never imagined it would apply to more than just a physical home but to the very core of myself. There are so many things to say about 2025 that I won’t be put in writing—so all I’ll say is that this year broke me wide open. It taught me that building isn’t just about adding. Sometimes it’s about clearing, recalibrating and sometimes walking away from structures that no longer hold.

It taught me that I had deep wounds that I had never closed. Ones that a Universal Year 9 loving reminded me that I could no longer hold onto. For those unfamiliar with numerology, 2025 is a collective Year 9, meaning everyone in the world is experiencing the same energy. This energy asks us to release outdated roles, to confront emotional debris and to make peace with the past—and that’s exactly what I am working on right now. I’ve had to face patterns I thought I’d outgrown. I found myself in situations that mirrored old dynamics—ones that echoed the emotional wounds of my childhood. And I realized that healing isn’t just about insight, it’s about putting it into intentional action and choosing a different outcome.

In short, it’s been a lot (to put it mildly haha).

This year had me stepping into roles that stretched me, made me question everything I had ever learned and made me realize that I have a choice in who I am and how I show up. It had me using my voice from a place of ego and learning that this is not aligned with who I am. It had me pouring into friendships and building community which would hold me during my darkest moments. It had me finally realizing that “asking for help” is not weakness, but a great strength. It had me pausing and reflecting before stepping forward, allowing me to continue ahead with more clarity and purpose.

By the time you're reading this, we’ll have moved into our new space and will have become landlords—building systems to support our financial goals and our family. It’s a year of closing chapters and of laying the foundation for the next 9-year cycle. The impatient psychopath who still lives inside me can’t wait to see what’s to come.

What am I bringing into 2026?

Well, first off, I’m not done building. Not even close (the perfectionist in me is crying as she types this). The drywall might be up, the rental unit might be occupied, and the spreadsheets might be colour-coded (obviously), but the real work—the soul work—is still unfolding.

2025 was about laying the foundation. And not just the one with insulation and drainage (though shoutout to Ottawa General Contractors for keeping me on my toes and making me lose what was left of my sanity). It was about building systems, boundaries, and a voice that could hold the weight of truth. It was about realizing that I don’t want to build for approval anymore—I want to build for alignment.

So, my word for 2026 is ALIGN.

This year, I’m aligning my voice with my values.

I’m aligning my time with what matters most.

I’m aligning my energy with what sustains me.

And those values—integrity, intentionality, and connection—are my compass. Integrity means I say what I mean and mean what I say, even when it’s uncomfortable. Intentionality means I pause before I leap (or at least try to—I’m still human after all). Connection means I keep choosing relationships that feel like home, even when the world feels wobbly.

I know 2026 is a Universal Year 1—a fresh start for the collective. And for me, it’s a Personal Year 9. A year of emotional closure, spiritual integration, and preparing the soil for what’s next. So, while the world begins again, I’ll be finishing something deep within. And that feels… right.

So, here’s to ALIGNMENT. To building with purpose. To choosing authenticity over performance. To trusting that the scaffolding I’ve built—of joy, clarity, and resilience—will hold, even when the winds pick up, which they inevitably will.

And if it doesn’t? Well, I’ve got backup plans. And spreadsheets. And snacks—lots and lots of snacks (you don’t want to see your girl HANGRY).

2026, (I think) I’m ready for you.