Choosing a Word Instead of a New Year’s Resolution That Actually Sticks

As the year wraps up, I find myself less interested in what I should do next and more curious about how I want to feel. Over time, I’ve returned to a simple ritual that feels far more supportive than resolutions ever did. Instead of making a list of goals or promises that can quickly turn into pressure, I choose a word. Just one. A word that carries the energy I want to live inside of and how I want this year to actually feel. It feels less like striving and more like having a quiet internal compass that gently reminds me where I’m headed when I start overthinking everything.

In 2025, my word was flourish.

Looking back, I can see how easy it is to measure a year by big moments or visible wins. And sure, there were highs and lows, because there always are. But what stands out most to me are the quieter shifts, the subtle ways I showed up for myself even when nothing about it was flashy or perfectly packaged.

I allowed myself to step fully into a romantic partnership that feels grounded, safe, and real. I let love in without self sabotaging, which still feels worth mentioning. Now six months into living with Patrick and a year and a half together, it feels easy. And not the kind of easy that’s boring, but the kind where my nervous system isn’t constantly on high alert, no longer feeling like it’s about to blow a gasket over nothing. That alone feels like growth I don’t take lightly.

I stayed connected to my creative work. I kept writing this blog, pushing myself as a designer and in my photography. I still can’t quite believe that I photographed a major project this past year while dealing with the norovirus, and somehow it all turned out beautifully. Truly not a recommended approach, but it reminded me that showing up imperfectly still counts.

My channeling with spirit shifted too. The way I receive messages feels different now. It’s hard to explain, but there’s more flow, more ease, and less efforting than before. And even in moments when fear crept in, I didn’t immediately push it away or judge myself for feeling it. I sat with it. I named it when it needed to be named. I let it teach me something rather than control me. And in doing so, I grew in ways I never could have planned.

There were no fireworks moments that demand retelling, but the year fit. My word was honored with grace, without needing to track it on a checklist. Flourish showed up in the spaces where presence mattered more than performance.

As I turn toward 2026, the word that’s rising for me is nourish.

So, we move from flourish to nourish. My ish words. Laughing. Where flourish carried a sense of opening and possibility, nourish feels like deepening. Not forcing expansion, but tending to what already exists. Choosing clarity over noise. Making space for reflection, creativity, and meaningful connections. Sounds dreamy, doesn’t it?

This feels like a year of practices that feed my soul because they feel like home, not obligation. Yes, please. A year of expression where meaning is allowed to arise naturally, rather than something I feel the need to chase. I’d love for nourish to invite me to listen more closely to my inner rhythms, to honor what my soul, mind, and body are asking for together.

 I’ve spent a long time in survival mode. Many of us have. And while I don’t believe nourishment means a lack of effort, it does mean shifting the viewpoint. Less pushing. More care. Less proving. More presence. Gratitude not as a concept, but as a lived experience that restores rather than drains.

 Nourish, to me, is about returning back to myself. Not because I’ve failed or fallen behind, but because I’m ready to meet myself with a softer gaze. To choose what sustains me. To trust that tending to my inner world is not indulgent, but necessary.

 If you find yourself resisting resolutions or feeling disconnected from the pressure to become something more next year, I invite you to consider your own word. Not one that demands perfection, but one that feels like an honest companion. Let it guide you gently. Let it meet you where you are.

 Growth does not always roar. Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it looks like rest, honesty, and choosing yourself in small, consistent ways. Wherever you are on your path, you are allowed to move at the pace of care. Your soul already knows the way forward. All it’s asking is that you listen.