Yesterday I turned 46. And instead of feeling celebratory in the traditional sense, I found myself reflective and quiet. A little heavy, sitting with questions I’ve avoided for some time. As I drove, I kept thinking about the next 40 years, if I’m lucky enough to have them, and what I actually want them to stand for. What I kept coming back to was this: I want to live with intention and integrity.
When I look back on the last 20 years, I see a life that was full, travel, experiences, movement, adventure, but also a life that often felt unanchored. I was moving fast, trying things on, following curiosity, saying yes to almost everything, without ever really stopping to ask who I wanted to be, or what kind of impact I wanted to have. I trusted the universe to carry me and in many ways, it did, but I wasn’t always choosing my direction.
Now, at 46, getting closer to 50, I’m realizing I don’t feel any closer to the goals I once set at 20 and instead of that feeling like failure, it feels like an invitation. An invitation to choose more deliberately. To wake up each day working toward something, not running from something. To slow down. To celebrate more. To laugh more. To notice the small moments. To trust that I’m exactly where I am because I’m choosing to be here.
For many years, I lived with a quiet victim mentality, shaped by trauma, uncertainty, and not knowing who I was becoming. I tried on so many versions of myself without a clear destination. And yet, I always landed okay. I always found my footing. That’s something I want to carry forward with me now: the knowing that I don’t need to see the whole path ahead to trust where I’m going.
This next decade is about listening more deeply. It’s about connecting to a God of my understanding. To Source, to my body and to my heart. It’s about learning the difference between discomfort that helps me grow and saying yes to things that simply don’t align anymore. It’s about allowing myself to say no without guilt. About following what feels right, what feels grounded, what feels true and loving myself enough to honour that.
I’m focusing on building my business, on how I show up every day and allowing myself to evolve, and maybe most importantly, I’m also learning how to love myself more gently in the process. There’s also a sadness that often shows up on my birthday. A heaviness I don’t fully understand, maybe tied to my dad, maybe tied to time, maybe tied to grief that still lives quietly in my body. This year, instead of pushing it away, I’m allowing it to be there.
One of my intentions for 46 is this: holding two things at once. Grief and gratitude. Heaviness and hope. Sadness and anticipation. Reflection and forward motion. Both can exist. And neither cancels the other out.
So this year, I’m choosing intention. To wake up each day and know what I am working towards. I’m choosing integrity and presence. To be more conscious of what I am saying yes to, to what I am putting in my body, and who I spend my time with. I’m choosing to trust that wherever I’m headed, even if I can’t fully see it yet, I will land well.
Because I always have.
