The last 12 months have been a ride. This time last year I had just finished walking a 60km multi-day hike in the deep south of New Zealand, we celebrated Christmas beachside and looked ahead to a 2025 that was filled with question marks. One thing felt certain, though: my word of the year had to be “HOME.” 

That word echoed through every corner of my life – our physical home, our spiritual home, our family home, my business home. When I landed on that word of the year, I didn’t yet know how it would unfold or what “home” would look like, but I knew what it felt like: peace, contentment, belonging, connection. Our travels had taught me that home is both a place and a feeling – and sometimes that feeling arrives long before the place does. 

This past year became, more than anything, about coming home to myself. Gathering the whimsical, bucket-list experiences of our family’s time abroad and grounding them inside a steadier, more peaceful inner foundation.  

In keeping with this, last week during my eighth annual planning day for women who want to design their next chapter with intention, a question surfaced that had the potential to change everything:

“Did you notice any turning points in the past year?”

This question caused us to rise above the detail of the year and instead look at it from a bigger picture.

It could be a decision that was made that changed everything. It could be an opportunity you went after that made all the difference. It could be something that happened, unexpectedly, that put your year into a nose dive.

For myself, I expected mine to be the physical move back to Canada. But it wasn’t. 

My turning point was the decision that led us to that physical move. It was the inner work that mattered the most. This year, the lessons that shaped me weren’t the ones I planned for. They arrived in the in-between moments… the transitions, the surprises, the cracks where clarity finally had room to enter. And each one, carried a leadership lesson at its core.

This year asked me to slow down in ways I didn’t expect.

Not physically. I had already removed so much of the busyness from my life with the decision to live abroad for awhile. It was the mental thought process that needed to get even slower so I could gain clarity. The listening to the still small voice, my intuition, my gut.

The hard part was that it took so long for me to really hear it. The in-between, the messy middle was challenging, frustrating, and there were a lot of lows. But slowing down my thought process gave me the space to think clearly again. It made room for more intentional choices instead of automatic ones. Once I could finally hear the answer, we were all systems go.

In life and in leadership, this is everything.

Leaders who pause lead with purpose. Leaders who reflect create impact.

Sometimes the bravest move isn’t charging ahead — it’s allowing yourself to breathe long enough to hear what’s calling you next.

There were moments this year when the world around me felt loud with opinions, expectations, and “shoulds.” It was incredible to me how many people – some of whom I barely knew – had really strong opinions about various decisions we made in our lives. What was important was for me to trust my own voice – not anyone else’s.
 
I’ve learned that self-trust is one of the greatest leadership muscles we can build. It’s the foundation of confidence, clarity, and aligned action.

When you trust yourself, you stop outsourcing your power.

You stop waiting for permission.

You start becoming the kind of woman who leads her life instead of reacting to it.

Every year changes us — but this year felt like shedding a layer I didn’t even know I was still carrying.

Old roles, old stories, old definitions of success… quietly loosening their grip.

The gradual emergence of our family’s nest changing identity, needs and space was a huge one for me and for us. I had tried to delay the inevitable pace of time with children growing up and leaving the nest by inventing this family gap year. To whisk them away and put my little birds back under my feathers for a little while. But what emerged was their growing strong wings of their own, and starting to build their own nests. And just as the saying goes,

“If you love something, set it free, if it comes back, it’s yours.
If not, it was never meant to be.”

Thankfully my little birds return to the nest regularly, and they need different things from the nest now, it looks different, and that takes getting used to.   

Letting go is rarely comfortable, but it creates space for the leader you’re becoming — not the one you used to be.

Leadership is evolution.

And evolution requires release.

Looking back, I see a theme:

This year asked me to be courageous in ways that stretched me beyond belief.

It called me to shed ties that no longer served me. It challenged me to claim those that mean the most to who I am now. And it allowed me to sink into a new version of me that fits me now, the woman I am today, not the woman I used to be or the one I might be in the future. What does this version of me need, right now?

And when I could clearly make those decisions, everything around me fell into place.

 It asked me to choose clarity over comfort.
It asked me to honour the truth of who I am becoming — not who I was.

And that is the heart of leadership.

Leadership isn’t found in titles or job descriptions.

It’s found in the micro-decisions we make every day:

to pause
to listen
to trust
to release
to move forward in alignment with who we are here to become.

What decisions are you leaning into in this season of your life? What career, life or business pivots are calling you? As you approach the end of this year, I invite you to take a breath and ask yourself:

– What surprised you about yourself this year?

– Where did you show courage you didn’t know you had?

– What version of you are you quietly outgrowing?

– What leadership lesson found you when you weren’t expecting it?

– Who is the woman your future self is asking you to become next? And…

– Was there a turning point in your year? Where did it lead you?

Becoming the woman your future self will thank you for isn’t a single moment. It’s an allowing, a noticing, a release of what no longer fits and a claiming of what fits the woman you are today and the woman you feel you are growing into.

It’s a practice — a rhythm — a way of showing up for yourself with more honesty, compassion, and intention than you did yesterday.

My hope is that this December brings you the clarity you’ve been craving, the courage you’ve earned, and the possibility you’re ready to step into next.

And if you want a supportive space to explore that next chapter, I’d love to walk alongside you in the new year.

Here’s to who you’re becoming.

She’s already proud of you.