Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on cold.

This winter really hit.
The cold, the snow, the ice, it's been described as harsh.
Just last weekend, a snowstorm shut us down from Texas to NY, and everything in between.

But I am not complaining.
I am a true NY girl, and I love this time of year.
I crave the hibernation, and more than anything else, I crave the quiet.

The walks I take are silent.
The runs, all you can hear is the sound of my steps.
The sound of snow falling makes the outside stop; it forces you to listen to just how quiet it all is.

The nights come sooner, making us all the more tired.
The gray makes us adore the sun when she shines through.
The cold makes you add extra blankets, snuggle in as a whole family, everyone bundled.

NY in the wintertime hits differently.
You have to love it to be a part of it.
You have to embrace it, or it will swallow you whole.
You have to understand it and learn how to live and love it.
Because spring and summer always come.
Everything always thaws.
And the parties are about to begin.
So for now, you can find me snuggled on my couch.
Buried beneath blankets with puppies on either side.
You can find my gorgeous hound by the fire, and my little Yorkie on my lap.
You can find my littles, as big as they now are, still holding my hand while we watch movies and shows.
You can find me embracing NY in all her quiet, cold, winter.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on unusual.

I am spending a lot of time hitting pause on my reactions.
I am reminding myself, almost daily, that I am safe, I am okay. I do not need to scream and jump up and down in order to be heard and have a voice.
I can be calmer.
If I want calmer, I can be calmer.
But, that is unusual for me.

So, I have to work on it and work on not allowing my reflexes to take over.
Take hold, and like muscle memory, just be who I have always been.
The yeller, the overreactor, the screamer, the dramatic one, the one that is always "too much".
But, that is unusual for me.

I now have to fully stop.
Stop in my tracks.
Close my eyes.
Quietly place my hand on my heart.
Tell myself, I am safe.
I am okay.
This situation is going to be okay and everyone is safe, including me.
And all of this, every last step, is unusual for me.

But that's okay.
Change, growth, and maturity all come with discomfort and not using your same old ways.
Changing the things that you do not like about yourself.
Being your best version.
In 2026, as I start to reawaken, I am stepping into the unusual.

Rest & Remember

This month I will...
Allow stillness.
And remember who I am.

Allow stillness, not because I am tired.
But because I am quieting the loud.
I need to pause more.
I need to hold my heart more.
I need to be so much less reactive.
I need to tell myself that I am safe, I am okay.
It does not need a comment or a thought.
I can let things go, better.
I can hold my heart, and my tongue, better.
I can let myself stay calmer.
I can be the calm I seek in my home.

Remember who I am, not because I forgot, but because I have held on to so much shame for so many years.
Shame of my heart.
Shame of my love.
Shame of my voice, my ideas, my choices.
Shame of who I am.
So, I need to spend this month remembering that I am okay.
I am not going to win over the masses.
I am not going to be everyone's ideal friend, person, wife, mother, boss, co-worker.
But I can still be me.

Dear January, please bring the stillness I need and the opportunities to hold on to myself.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on horizon.

2026 is a year of reawakening and realizing that what is waiting for me, is finally possible.
It's the year I am slowly lifting my head, shaking off the fog and seeing the horizon right in front of me.

I have a renewed belief in my life again.
I am starting to believe in who I am again.
Listening to the messages that I am a good person and I am not for everyone and both can be true at the same time.

I am starting to believe in my company again. I believe in our work, and in our team.
I believe in who we are, what we can accomplish and what is now waiting for us on the other side.

I am starting to believe that life does not have to be all about goals, winning, or accomplishments.
It can be about an invitation versus an arrival.
A constant restarting versus a finish line.

I believe in my own evolution. My desire to grow and learn. My ability to grow and learn.
The fact that when I know better, I do better.

I see a horizon and I welcome the view.

the most
beautiful thing
in this world
is a
human
coming
back
to
life.

the quiet rise.
the slow returning.
the moment the glow
remembers how to glow.

And the moment a human remembers who they are, and wakes the hell up!

Hello reawkening.

It feels intentional, gentle, and powerful all at once. It’s not about becoming someone new; it’s about remembering who you are and letting her lead again.

I have spent the last three years getting really small.
Going away.
But also, listening, learning, growing.
Trying to figure myself out and get quite a bit quieter.
And now, it's time to let quiet growth count just as much as visible wins.
It's time to reconnect with joy, ease.
It's time to choose presence over productivity.
It's time to come back to my body and find a voice.
I am ready to emerge, not explode, but emerge and reawaken.

Because I am still a little shaky, I will start slow.
I will start my day a little slower.
I will not rush to figure this out. It will be more intentional.
I will not fall into old habits of urgency equals growth and productivity equals worth.
I will go slowly.
I will pause, a lot, and ask, what is my fear, and what do I need?

I'm going to rebuild trust, with myself.
I will allow silence to be an answer.
I will release over-giving and over-explaining.
I will practice pausing over and over again. I will not immediately react.
I will hold my heart and think it through.
And most importantly, I will protect peace, my peace, with zero announcements.
I will trust the voice that whispers, enough.
I will choose depth over noise because growth does not have to be loud to be real.
I understand now that boundaries do not require announcements
and peace does not need permission.

I reawaken to my voice...
speaking clearly, kindly, and only when it feels true.
I no longer over-explain, over-give, or over-stay
where my energy is not met with respect.

In my work I will lead with calm instead of urgency.
I will model boundaries, rest, and humanity.
I will focus on sustainable success, not constant growth.
I will not be doing more, but doing what matters.

2026 is not about becoming more.
It is about returning to myself.

2026 is the year I wake up—
gently, intentionally, and fully—
to the life that has been waiting for me all along.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on mend.

As I write this, we, as a country, are very broken.
We are all worried, some for their lives, for their survival, for their families.
Others are more on the edges and outskirts. More about who we are becoming, how far back we have taken this country that promises hope, moving forward, knowing better and doing better.
We have to mend our broken hearts, lives, relationships, and this country we all claim to love so much.

I do not have much else to say on the topic.
I just want to remember that in January of 2026, a woman was killed by an ICE officer.
Another shooting took place by the border control.
We have a President who is asking us not to believe the videos we are watching of the incident.
We also have a President who invaded a country and kidnapped its President for oil.
We have a President who is so unkind, so evil, so malicious, such a narcissist, and half of us love him.
Love what he has done to this country.

We have three more very long, painful, and trying years. We have years of continuing to roll things back for our country's most vulnerable citizens.
This is the time when the future will study us and ask, why didn't anyone help?
And, most importantly, what did you do?
How did you help mend the broken?