I started 2025 with elevent specific goals written down. By mid-December, I’d checked off about half-ish.
And you know what? I’m OK with that.
This year, I learned something different.
I learned that sometimes the goals you don’t accomplish teach you more than the ones you do. Sometimes what doesn’t happen is making room for what needs to.
What 2025 Actually Looked Like
HERE were the 11 goals I set for myself last year.
Let me be honest with you about what happened this year.
The wins were real:
Landed a position with an incredible team that actually shifted culture and profitability, and I’m actually working with Vani Hari (which sometimes feel like “Is this really happening?”)
I kept showing up for A Gutsy Girl (but changed the way I went about it).
And I explored—new places, new ideas, new ways of thinking.
As of December 31, 2025, I will have made it through the entire Bible in a year (! – yes, I finally did it), which changed me in ways I’m still processing.
I gave my kids more present and engaged attention – navigating their own, unique circumstances.
I listened to audiobook after audiobook (well over twelve – in fact, I with the completion of The Bible, I’m at 45).
And I finally—finally—finished my 50 Before 50 list.
I even took a solo trip to start my 42nd year around the sun, which was just what my Arizonian-doctor ordered.
And here’s the unexpected one: I began learning everything about AI. This wasn’t on my original list. But it showed up, grabbed my attention, and opened doors I didn’t know existed.
But two things conspicuously didn’t happen:
We didn’t sell Thyme on Main.
And I didn’t write my book. Not one word beyond scattered notes and half-formed ideas.
I’m not saying I’m happy about either, but I’m choosing to see it differently.
When the Year Looks Different Than You Planned—And That’s Exactly Right
What Didn’t Happen Was Making Space
Those properties didn’t sell—yet. And you know what that “yet” has given me?
The perspective to actually surrender and trust in God’s timing.
Time to understand that the fact they haven’t sold is here to teach me something. Space to realize that rushing a sale just to check a box wouldn’t serve anyone. And the confidence in knowing that someday I’ll be able to look back and say, “That was the reason.”
And the book? I didn’t write it because I wasn’t ready to write it well. The story is still forming. The message is still clarifying. And I’d rather wait and write something true than force something just to say I finished.
BUT ALSO…..I’m starting to realize that there is a message in the whole chaos of not being able to write it; not being able because I don’t think I could do it well.
Everything is beautiful in its time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11—the verse that keeps showing up in my life when I need it most.)
Some things were meant for 2025. And those things I think are all part of the “9th year snake shedding.”
The Year of Shedding Skin
It should be noted here that I am terrified of snakes.
When my mother or Ryan read this article they are going to wonder if I actually wrote it. Because nowhere and no how on Earth would you catch me discussing the snake.
But I digress.
I learned something interesting recently: 2025 is what some call a “9th year snake shedding.”
Stay with me here—I know that sounds mystical, but the concept actually resonates deeply with what I’ve been experiencing.
In numerology, 2025 adds up to 9 (2+0+2+5).
Nine represents completion, endings, the final chapter before something new begins.
It’s also the Lunar New Year of the Wood Snake—a creature that literally sheds its skin to grow.
And doesn’t that feel exactly right for where we are? Maybe it’s just me.
This whole year has felt like one long process of releasing old versions of myself.
Old expectations, and ways of doing things that used to work but don’t anymore.
Old fears I’ve been carrying around like they’re somehow protecting me when really, they’re just weighing me down.
I’ve been shedding.
Not in some magical, instantaneous transformation. More like how a snake actually does it—uncomfortable, slow, a little messy, sometimes getting stuck halfway through and having to work at it.
But necessary. Essential, even, to keep growing.
The snake doesn’t rush the process.
Instead, she waits for the right time, not apologizing for needing to shed. She just does it, knowing that what’s underneath is stronger, healthier, ready for what’s next.
That’s what this year has been teaching me. That endings aren’t failures—they’re completions. That letting go isn’t giving up—it’s making room. That when something feels like it’s falling away, maybe it’s because I’m ready for what’s underneath.
Everything is beautiful in its time. Even the shedding.
BTW – No, I will never get a snake tattoo.
Moving on…..
Three Words for 2026
As I look ahead, I’m not just making another list of twelve things to do.
This year, I’m organizing my entire focus around three words, three themes that feel less like goals and more like a way of being:
DEVOTION
Devotion isn’t just about spiritual practice (though that’s part of it—I’m diving deep into Ecclesiastes this year). It’s about giving my whole self to what matters, not what distracts.
It’s morning readings and prayer and journaling, yes.
But it’s also showing up fully for my kids and husband, not half-present trying to avoid.
It’s finally creating that visual 50 Before 50 board so I can see where I’m going.
It’s working on the book—this time for real—because the story is ready to be told.
Devotion means: I choose what gets my energy.
ALIGN
This is the year I let go of what no longer fits and double down on what does.
Selling Thyme on Main isn’t just about real estate—it’s about releasing what’s keeping me scattered.
It’s about refocusing all my business energy into digital-first brands that actually align with who I am now and who I’m becoming.
Like growing the Food Babe brand and blowing past the goal I’ve set for myself (which I proved I can do in 2025).
It’s mastering affiliate marketing across all businesses.
And ramping up + growing NoBOTY intentionally.
Mostly, it’s taking all my passions and simplifying systems, decluttering responsibilities, and continuing to grow my week around true priorities instead of everyone else’s urgencies.
Align means: Everything I do matches who I am and where I’m going.
WONDER
I’m going to Vietnam with Lan this year. We’ve talked about it for so long, and this is the year it happens. [Hi, I’m here right now!]
But wonder is bigger than one trip. It’s about taking those 1-2 solo journeys that reset my soul.
And exploring new creative skills—AI, photography, video—and seeing where they lead.
It’s reading widely and letting new ideas reshape me.
Wonder means: I choose to live wide-eyed, curious, and inspired.
This Year I Am Devoted. Aligned. Choosing Wonder.
I release what no longer fits, pour myself into what matters, and explore with curiosity.
I build a life that reflects the woman I’ve become (someone I wouldn’t have recognized 3-4 years ago).
She opens her hands so God can place what He intends.
And I follow the whispers of purpose, not pressure.
I honor my energy, my gifts, my children, and my calling…..
Creating, growing, learning, breathing.
2026 is the year I strive to become more me than ever before.
So here’s my question for you: What’s one thing you’re releasing this year to make room for what’s meant to come?
I’d love to hear your word, your theme, your hope for this year.
Drop it in the comments—let’s build this community of women becoming more ourselves, together.
Xox,
SKH
p.s. Here are the GUT goals I’ve set for A Gutsy Girl. Also contributing to devotion, align + wonder.
p.s. Hello from Vietnam….I’ve only been here a few days, and already — there are no words. I don’t know how I’ll ever recap it all.
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