I almost didn’t write this…let alone actually publish it.
And that’s mostly because it feels a little ridiculous to write and publish a year-end reflection when the last time I blogged was…last year’s year-end reflection. 😅
Buuut I gotta make my comeback eventually, and since there’s honestly sooo much to say that it’s difficult to decide where I should even begin, I’m just going to brain dump on you and see where we end up lol.
Maybe that’s exactly why this lil reflection is actually the best post to write first, so I can clear my head of everything that’s happened and begin again in the New Year.
After all, 2025 has truly been a year of surviving. And somehow — unexpectedly — it was also about living joyfully.
Losing My Mom
I’ve written about my mom’s passing a few times, and it hasn’t gotten easier. But it was the single most profound experience of my life thus far. It’ll always be what made 2025 what it was.
When my sister called to tell me she had taken our mom to the hospital, I honestly didn’t know what to think. As far as I knew, my mom was healthy and rarely ever complained about aches or pains even.
Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer.
Everything progressed SO quickly, and within a few days of her diagnosis, my mom was in so much pain she could no longer care for herself and was taken back to the hospital. I called my boss, was immediately put on leave, and started my 12-hour drive down to California that same day.
My mom had always been the health freak of the family. She cared about taking care of her body. She didn’t eat processed food and hardly ever ate out. She was in her late 60s and still went to various workout classes multiple times a week, walked miles a day, and rode her Harley-Davidson motorcycle for hundreds of miles on weekends with her friends.
To say we were all completely blindsided by this new diagnosis would be a bit of an understatement.
I dropped everything to become her hospice nurse. I slept in bursts of 1-4 hours whenever she was able to sleep. I took meticulous notes on what medication I gave her. My sister and I gave her bed baths. And together, we navigated the details of my mom’s estate to prepare for the inevitable.
I thought my nearly 10 years as a nurse would have prepared me for what it would be like to sit at her bedside while she drifted away into the mystical “beyond.”
It didn’t.
And naturally, my grief didn’t arrive all at once in those early days. Instead, it came in months-long waves…some gentle, some brutal, some in moments by myself, some surrounded by others (which still haunts me…that I allowed such raw emotions be witnessed by others, but that’s a story for another time).
But those waves started while witnessing her: the way her voice hollowed, the way she cried, the way she giggled with the friends who visited, the way conversations changed, the way her body slowed, the way she slept a little more every day.
It came in the slow realization that the version of her I had always known was slipping away right before my eyes.
(I’m in tears while typing this, please hold…)
I didn’t know it before, but I guess there’s a special kind of heartbreak in loving and caring for someone through their dying days. You’re grieving who they were while still needing to show up for what they need now. But everyday is different, and you have to keep adjusting your expectations again and again, day by day, hour by hour.
Being there in her final days was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It was also one of the most sacred. Caring for her, sitting with her, witnessing the end of her life.
Nothing else mattered.
Stepping in as her hospice nurse is an experience that changed me in ways I’m still uncovering. And after she passed, nothing snapped back into place as it was before. Life didn’t return to “normal,” but I did eventually go back home. And it became nearly impossible to go about my daily routines.
I had quietly cared for her until her final breath…without ever saying goodbye while she could still comprehend it. And for many reasons, but mostly because of that, I think, I walked away so so…angry.
Quitting My Full-Time Job
I started out 2025 working in a job I hated, but also desperately trying to make my business financially stable enough so I didn’t have to continue working that job.
But after my mom passed at the end of March, my leave at work ended, and I received an email from my boss that didn’t sit well with me. And even though when I left work, I originally had every intention of returning, I decided to quit on the spot with no two weeks notice and no plan.
It was probably a bit more dramatic than it needed to be, but in my defense, my mom had just died, and going back to work at a job I hated felt like a monumental task I didn’t want to face.
I simply could not go back.
And for once, I listened to what I knew to be true in my heart, took action on it, and did not look back. The 6 months I took off work allowed me to grieve and reset without a timeline.
Of course, there were also days when I felt a bit…untethered. Days I felt like I didn’t know what the heck I was doing. Days I spent crushed under the weight of my grief. Days when I wondered who I was without a job or a clear next step.
My best friend said it was the right thing to do; my dad said he was worried about me. 🤣
But that time and space were necessary. It gave me room to breathe again.
Still Creating, Even When I Wasn’t “Working”
It may sound crazy, but even though I quit my job, I didn’t completely disappear from my business.
I took on a few 1:1 projects over the summer and fall, including some small brand copy projects, a handful of website audits, a newsletter project, and even my biggest website copy project to date.
It all felt very aligned at the time because it was work with people I genuinely enjoyed supporting. It reminded me that I still love the art of writing, storytelling, and creating something meaningful.
But it also made something else clear: I don’t want to do 1:1 work anymore.
The mental and emotional bandwidth it requires, the way it anchors your time and energy — it just isn’t right for me anymore.
And that’s okay. Because that just means that I get to reimagine my business once again, trying new things along the way.
Trying Something New (and Loving It But Not…At the Same Time???)
In 2025, for the first time, I developed, sold, and ran a small mentorship group. And it was one of the most fun professional experiences I’ve had in my business so far.
I didn’t launch it with a big strategy or elaborate sales funnel or anything crazy like that either. But I still had 5 nurses sign up for it. And I was absolutely blown away by that…that I could create and sell something that was actually valuable to the nurses in my lil sleep-deprived community.
However, while I did love the experience and the nurses who took a chance on me, and while I initially wanted to refine and relaunch it, I also realized it still may not be exactly what I want to do with my business. It’s definitely closer to the dream…but it’s still not quite right.
And for now, that’s perfectly fine with me. After all, a lot of the time being in business is just one big fat adventure/experiment, and you gotta LIVE it one day at a time to figure it all out.
Some Unexpected Summer Joys
Because of everything going on with my mom, I was forced to spend more time in California than I have in the last ten years. I say “forced” because from about 10-22 years old, I wanted to be anywhere but there. I left California the first opportunity I got after graduating from college, settled in Oregon, and hadn’t really spent any significant time there since.
So I didn’t think I’d enjoy being there. But as it turns out, I’m so grateful for it. For every little moment of joy that was sprinkled between the weight of losing my mom. For the opportunity to spend time with my family and friends that wasn’t rushed or squeezed between obligations like in years past.
And because I quit my job without another lined up, I had the opportunity to care for my grandparents while they waited for placement in a memory care facility. I will always remember that summer month with them, eating meals together and watching Jeopardy every night. 💕
Amid all of this, I lived fully, too.
I floated down rivers for the first time. Paddle boarded on quiet lakes (and even bought my very own paddle board). Hiked trails that reminded me my body is capable and strong (and accidentally got suckered into a 12-mile hike with zero training beforehand lol). Rollerbladed like a little kid again (and fell a few times that had me rolling on the ground in a fit of laughter). Flew to Las Vegas for the NNBA conference (and spoke ON STAGE for the first time ever). Even went on a multi-state, weeks-long road trip to visit my middle sister (and now I’m up to 27 States checked off my travel list).
I laughed. I cried. I rested. I moved my body. I experienced love and joy in real time.
Damn, it was the best summer I’ve had in yearsss.
Returning to the Bedside (The Plot Twist I Didn’t See Coming)
After three years away from bedside nursing, I decided to go back, which is something I literally thought would NEVER happen. All I knew is that what I had been doing before I quit (quality management) wasn’t right for me and the only nursing job I ever really enjoyed was in an ambulatory clinic…so I started there.
I searched high and low for positions in ambulatory clinics across my city. And eventually I accepted a position — part-time — as an oncology infusion nurse.
I started this new job at the end of September.
And wow. Being back in patient care freaking kicked my ass in those early weeks.
Eeeverything was new to me. New hospital. New charting system. New equipment. New specialty. New patient population. New rhythms.
I felt like a brand-new nurse again…being slow AF, unsure in my skills, and constantly questioning myself. In those first few weeks back, there were even moments when I thought, what the heck did I get myself into?
But alongside the discomfort was something else: purpose.
For many reasons, this new job has mattered in a way that goes straight to my bones…the very essence of who I am and what impact I want to have in this life. It honestly feels like by caring for them, I’m caring for my mom, if she had had the opportunity to receive chemotherapy.
It humbles me. It grounds me. And it also absolutely shatters a belief I’ve been carrying for yearsss…that leaving the bedside for good is the only way to find joy within my career…but I was straight up wrong.
And that realization has changed everything for me.
Letting Go of the “One Thing” Myth
For my entire career up until this year, I believed I had to choose between my job and my joy. But my new job has quickly taught me that I don’t.
I really can have the best of both worlds. I am the creator of my reality. I can create whatever life I want. I get to choose what I do with my career. I get to choose what I do with my business. I get to choose what type of life I want to live and what I do in my free time.
I get to choose.
I’ve worked full-time, 12-hour night shifts at the bedside. And I’ve worked 5 days a week, 8 hours a day behind a desk. Neither of those extremes really fit my life. But I was too scared (or maybe too comfortable) to make any drastic changes.
I’ve slowly realized this year that I want a life that allows me to do a little of everything.
I’m determined to make that happen. Which is why I took a part-time job. It allows me to work with patients in a setting I’m actually enjoying and still have time (and energy) to work on my passion projects (like this lil blog of mine).
I like to say I’m collecting side hustles now. And in doing so, I’m building a life that’s multifaceted, flexible, and creative in every aspect.
Where I Am Now
Just like how I wasn’t sure where to begin, I’m not really sure how to end this thing. Because I can’t just keep word-vomiting on you lol. 🤣
And I certainly didn’t really speak to everything that happened in 2025, but what I have going forward is gratitude for being able to survive this year and still finding joy within the gut-wrenching heartache.
I know I want my work, both in my conventional nursing career and my business, to feel meaningful and impactful.
I know I don’t want to build a career or a business that requires me to sacrifice myself to it.
I know I want room for my conventional nursing career and my business while also having time for creativity, rest, and joy to all coexist.
So for now, these first few months of 2026 are simply about rebuilding, and I’m starting right here with my very neglected blog. 😘
