Hey y’all,
It’s January 5, 2024 as I write this. Last year I set a single intention: acting on. I wanted to move from thought to action, to let instincts and information push me forward. My questions for 2025 were simple: what surfaces when I stop overthinking, and when everything else falls away, what goals am I actually chasing?
I made concrete plans for mental, physical, and professional growth — a singular focus, fewer creative limits, and more research outputs. The reality: month-to-month, it didn’t stick.
I won’t pretend 2025 was full of wins. There weren’t many moments that screamed “best year ever.” There were a lot more moments that made me think, in every language I know, never do that again.
Setting intentions
My Intention for 2026 is clear now and coming early: I want to begin lovingly reclaiming space.
Lovingly. I’ve struggled with self-sustaining habits and have too often dismissed self-care as selfish. This year I’m changing that. I’m centering lovingkindness in how I care for myself. Actions that once felt selfish will be reframed as self-protection, self-care, and reasonable boundary setting.
Reclaiming. I spent a lot of time expanding who I talk to, and in the process I lost pieces of myself. Instead of growing, I felt smaller. I’m not trying to go back to who I was, but I do want to be my fullest, most vibrant self again.
Space. Boundaries matter more than I like to admit. Once they break, they’re hard to rebuild. I know a quieter, nonconfrontational version of me helps some people, but it doesn’t help me grow. I don’t want constant conflict, but I do need to hold and protect the spaces that let me thrive. If I keep ceding ground, my wellbeing suffers — and I won’t let that happen again.
What this looks like
I’m going to reclaim space in 2026 with intention: prioritizing projects on my timeline, saying no when it preserves my energy, and investing in the work that lights me up. I spent 2025 pouring out everything I had and then retreating to recover. That pattern ends now.
Expect things to happen on my time and because of my deepest desire and passion. I will not pour out for people who have the resources to do the work themselves, or for those who pull others down despite their place in the social hierarchy. I’m protecting my cup so it can be full again.
This is my promise to myself: to move forward with tenderness and firmness, to protect the spaces I need, and to let my creativity and focus breathe. If I don’t, I fear that cup will stay empty — and I’m done letting that happen.
Be on the lookout for research posts through the WWKN Podcast project (I’ve been deep in the Ph.D. chaos and trying to finish some studies; she has been on a real hiatus that will end really soon). Also, feel free to meander through whatever creative projects I decide to take on at skyversonlee.
