New Year. Same Me.

We’ve all seen the memes: “New Year. New Me.” All the positivity and fresh-start energy poured into the magical “new” person we’re supposedly going to become when the calendar flips. And listen — as we all know, I am relentlessly positive. But I’m also realistic. And the idea that we become a brand-new person every January 1 is…kind of BS.

So how was your 2025? Did you crush it? Did you survive it? Either way: congratulations! You made it to 2026. That alone deserves a moment of recognition. To me, entering a new year doesn’t mean making resolutions you won’t keep or reinventing yourself overnight. It means refocusing. Adjusting. Re-centering. Being the best version of you that you can be — and sometimes, that simply means making it through.

I had a great year in 2025. I took on big new challenges at work. I ran more than I had in several years. We traveled a ton — I was in 20 states and the UK in those 365 days. I got to spend incredible time with family and friends, and I walked into 2026 with a full heart.

Hiking Camelback in Phoenix, December 2025

My 8th 5k of 2025

Welcoming the crowd at Dam Jam for my client, Lansing 5:01
September 2025

Presenting at the Maryland Municipal League Conference
June 2025

But I’m also fully aware that not every year is created equal. I’m the same person in 2026 that I was a few weeks ago — just more battle-tested. And I know that when life throws the inevitable wrench into my plans, I’ll know how to handle it. Why?Because I’m still me. And I’ve already survived the hardest things life has thrown at me.

One of my “survived it” years was 2013. Talk about a rough one. At the end of January, my father-in-law died unexpectedly — and far too young, at only 57. A few weeks later, my cat died too — my first pet as an adult, my favorite, the one who moved to four states with me. Obviously losing a cat and losing a human aren’t the same, but it felt like blow after blow. Then, a few months later, we had a birth mom choose us…only to change her mind after she gave birth.

My husband and I process grief very differently. In 2013, we’d just celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary, and the universe decided to throw everything at us at once. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t grieving the way I was. He didn’t understand why I felt like we needed to sit in it.

It was the hardest patch we’ve ever gone through. I truly wondered if our marriage would survive the carnage 2013 brought into our lives. I wish I could go back and tell 2013 me that we would make it through — and that a dozen years later, we’d be closer than ever.

I handled that year the best way I knew how: I threw myself into work and running. I ran my second marathon in the fall of 2013. I started training for a triathlon and completed it in summer 2014. Slowly, our hearts healed. And the birth of our son in December 2014 helped more than I can put into words.

I’ve been hospitalized…a lot…over the last 13 years. My illness has tested me and my family in every way. Thankfully, 2025 was a year without hospitalization (except outpatient), and I’m deeply grateful. I hope 2026 will be a healthy year. But if it isn’t? I’ll be ready. I hired a fitness and nutrition coach in December to right-size my habits and routine. Everyone knows the best time to start a new fitness plan is mid-December. (But honestly, if I can do it then, I can do it any time.)

So no — I’m not a “new me” in 2026. I’m the same me. Just stronger. Wiser. More resilient. Come at me, 2026. I hope it’s only with good things…but either way?

I’ve got this.