I’ve always been a goals-girlie, okay.
I love a good vision board. I love a fresh, crisp new journal. And I freaking love the feeling of standing at the start of a new year, imagining what’s possible, and figuring out how to make it happen.
But I’ve never written an entire blog post about what I envision for my year…what I hope the year will bring…and what I hope to accomplish by the end of the year.
Vision boards are one thing; this feels entirely different. It feels more intentional and also wayyy harder.
I’m not interested in proving anything to anyone or racing toward a version of success that looks good from the outside, though. What I really want instead is a clearer picture of what I’m actually working toward, not just in my career or business, but in my life in general…even if I don’t yet know exactly how it will all take shape.
I want to be honest about what matters to me, what I’m ready to let go of, and what I want to make more room for.
This is me attempting to put that vision into words for the first time ever.
And tbh, writing this is more for me than it is for you, but I know I won’t be the only one who might need a little push or inspiration to really take the time to envision what’s next in their journey.
Here goes nothing.
Choosing More Joy, More Living
I’ve never had a word of the year but 2026’s word is going to be…create. I want to create a life that feels joy-filled even when it is busy, imperfect, or just plain hard.
2025 was a hard year. In a lot of ways, it was a year I survived more than anything else. There were stretches that felt heavy in ways I didn’t anticipate, and the path forward was never clear to me. I was exhausted in every way possible.
And yet, when I look back, what surprises me most is how much unexpected joy still found its way in.
It reminded me that where there is darkness, light can be found. And your innate joy doesn’t require a clean slate or a fully healed version of yourself. It finds its way in if you’re willing to say “yes” even when everything in you is screaming to just go back to bed. 😭
So in 2026, I want to create more joy and more living. I don’t want to treat joy like something I earn after I’ve suffered enough or worked hard enough. I want it woven into my everyday life instead of postponed for “someday.”
I want to try new things without immediately asking if they’ll make money. I want to say yes to experiences because they’re interesting or scary or fun or just something new. And I want space for curiosity again, without needing to justify it with specific outcomes.
A Mindset of Kindness
One of the most important shifts I want to make in 2026 has nothing to do with goals, strategy, or numbers and has everything to do with how I talk to myself while I’m living and creating.
There’s a little voice in my head I unfortunately know all too well…the one that tells me that what I’m doing doesn’t really matter… That I’ll never be good enough to accomplish what I want. That creating just to create is self-indulgent and pointless. That “just” writing about my experiences isn’t “enough.” That if something doesn’t immediately turn into income or immediate validation, then it’s probably a waste of time and not worth doing.
I’ve let that voice have far too much airtime in my life. And I’m done with that.
I went to a yoga class recently and the way the teacher spoke — the encouragement to be gentle with yourself, to say kind things about your body, to let yourself be your own source of inspiration — completely wrecked me (in the best way).
At the end of class, I was in tears because it was exactly what I needed to hear that day. But not everyone felt the same way…one student even walked out about thirty minutes in. And that feels like such an honest metaphor for creating anything.
There will always be people who don’t resonate with what you create. People who scroll past it, click away, or opt out. But there will also always be people who are deeply moved by what you create — sometimes in ways you’ll never fully see or understand.
For me, 2026 is about choosing to believe that my perspective matters (even when it feels small or “pointless”) and that my impact doesn’t have to be massive to be meaningful. If something I write helps just one person feel less alone, more understood, or more willing to be kind to themselves, then it matters.
I want to create for the people who need these words, even if they never tell me so.
That means being kinder to myself in the process. Catching the moments when I start to dismiss my own work before it’s even had a chance to breathe. Letting my own gentle encouragement be part of the practice and not something I wait to receive from the outside.
In 2026, I want to be my own quiet source of belief, encouragement, and inspiration — and keep creating anyway.
Writing as the Center of Everything
In 2026, how I see my business is shifting into unknown territory.
So let it be known here first:
I’m no longer your website-obsessed nurse.
Don’t get me wrong — I still freaking LOVE websites. And I think I’ll always be a little obsessed with them and the power they hold. But I don’t want that to be the center of my business anymore. It made sense in the beginning stages of my business to anchor to something, and I’m grateful for everything I learned and built because of that decision.
But at my core, I’m a nurse who loves to write. And I’m someone who is deeply interested in life, death, and the human experience.
I want to write personal essays inspired by my work in an oncology infusion clinic and my experiences as a nurse more broadly. I also want to write about the things I love outside of work — cozy hobbies, reading, painting, gaming, baking, journaling, hiking, yoga, working out, and traveling — all through the lens of a woman who knows what it feels like to give a lot of themselves to others.
I want nurses (like you!) to relate to what I write on an emotional level. I want you to feel seen and understood in ways you maybe haven’t before. I want to show, through my own life, that it’s possible to change how you live and work without abandoning who you are or what you love.
And listen, I know blogs may not be what they once were, especially since so many questions are being answered by AI now. So, I don’t think the future of writing is more how-to content.
The reason to read a blog in 2026 is for personality, perspective, and relatable stories.
That’s what I want to offer.
So, What Does It Look Like IRL?
LIVING TO LIVE: I want to say yes more often to planning adventures and spending time with the people I love. I also want to reach out more to those I haven’t heard from in a while and actually put friend dates on the calendar instead of just thinking about them.
MY CONVENTIONAL CAREER: I want to feel confident and grounded in my new role as an oncology infusion nurse. I want to get my chemotherapy certification, keep growing in this specialty, and really trust myself in the work I’m doing at the bedside. And if my lil business grows the way I hope it will, I’d love to eventually go down to two days a week in the clinic — so nursing stays sustainable for me.
GASP, 1:1 OFFERS ARE OUT: Going into 2026, I don’t currently have any active one-on-one offers. My sole focus is building my blog and listening closely to what nurses are responding to and what they actually need. My mentorship and other ideas can sit in limbo for now. I trust that clarity will come simply from consistently creating.
CONSISTENT BLOGGING: Right now, my website gets around 15,000 impressions and about a 2% click-through rate. By publishing one (maybe two!) blog posts every week, I want to grow that to 100,000 impressions and a 5% click-through rate. And I actually have no idea if that’s outlandish or not, but I’m going for it with the bravado of a naive first-timer. 🤪
PINNING TO MY HEART’S CONTENT: Pinterest continues to be a surprisingly aligned part of this vision, too, even if I still have mixed feelings about whether nurses hang out there. Right now, it brings in around 200,000 impressions, and I think I’m going to see it as a quiet, long-term support for my writing. But I don’t want to obsess over it. I want to use it intentionally and let it do what it does best over time.
NEWSLETTERING: I sit juuust under 300 subscribers right now. I’d like to triple that number. My newsletter currently runs through Flodesk, but I’ve been thinking a lot about using Substack to archive my previous work. Of course, I’d still have backlinks to my website there and miiight eventually have Substack-specific content, I’m just not entirely sure what that looks like yet. So we’ll see about that one.
JUMPING INTO THE CREATOR ECONOMY: That said, one of my biggest goals for 2026 is to bring in more collaborators and build affiliate relationships with business owners I genuinely know and trust. I want to recommend tools, platforms, and products because I genuinely use them and believe in them.
BUILDING COMMUNITY: I go to the NNBA conference every year. But for 2026, I want to get out of my comfort zone and go to more live events where nurses are spending their time, so I can build a stronger community within my business.
Looking Ahead
I don’t have everything figured out, and I’m okay with that. I’m standing at a fork in the road with dense fog in every direction, and I know now that there is no perfect decision. There’s only deciding and then figuring out what comes next as the outcome unfolds.
For 2026, I’m choosing to create anyway. Write even when I’m not sure where it will lead. Build slowly and intentionally, trusting that consistency compounds in ways I can’t always see right away. And stay close to the work that feels meaningful, even when it’s not what the internet tends to reward.
If I can look back and know that I showed up honestly, created work I’m proud of, and left room for joy along the way, that will be enough for me.
