Reflecting on My Year of Surrender

Last year at this time, my sister challenged me to choose one word—one word that would guide how I moved through the year ahead. At the time, life felt anything but steady.

2024 had been heavy. My daughter’s case was turned upside down, and it felt like starting all over again emotionally. My son bought his first home and moved out, and while I was so proud of him, I suddenly found myself an empty nester—and lonely in a way I hadn’t expected. I was working deeply on myself, dating for the first time, navigating single life, and dealing with stress and uncertainty at work. Everywhere I looked, things felt unsettled and out of my control.

As I reflected on that year, I realized something had to change. After a lifetime of trying to control outcomes, timing, and expectations, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to spend another year worrying about things I couldn’t control. I wanted to soften. To trust. To let life unfold instead of forcing it.

The word I chose for 2025 was surrender.

What “Surrendering” Means to Me

Now, I don’t mean surrender like waving a white flag and giving up. This wasn’t about quitting; it was about letting go. Surrendering to what’s meant to be. Paying attention to the subtle cues life gives us: how situations feel in my body, the quiet nudges that tell me when something is aligned… and when it’s not. It meant releasing control over things that were never mine to control in the first place.

Surrender became about trusting the possibilities that arise when I stop gripping so tightly. When I stop forcing timing, outcomes, or answers—and instead allow the natural order of things to unfold when and how they’re meant to. Ultimately, it meant surrendering to God’s plan for my life, even when I couldn’t see the whole picture.

As someone who’s tried to control things my entire life, I knew this would be easier said than done. But honestly, I was worn out and ready for a different way of living. Ready to relax a bit and trust that what’s meant for me will come—and what’s not meant for me will leave.

The first thing I surrendered was worry and control of how others viewed me. I let go of worrying about other people’s opinions and decided it was time to own my story. 

Owning My Story

I had spent a good part of 2024 working on Been There, Babe, quietly questioning myself and wondering if I had anything of value to give. Was I doing the right thing by sharing my story? How would people respond? Would I be judged? And then I remembered my word, and I surrendered the outcome.

I stepped out onto that ledge—and jumped.

On January 4, 2025, I shared my first post. And instead of falling, I was held by an outpouring of love and support I never could have imagined. You reminded me how powerful vulnerability can be.

From that moment on, amazing things started to unfold. I met the man of my dreams in March. I went on my first solo adventure in April—both experiences that profoundly changed my life. I’ve learned more about myself than ever before. I’ve traveled, explored, and watched my life open up in ways I couldn’t have planned.

I’ve learned the power of my own femininity. I’ve learned how to let someone be my partner and helpmate. I’ve learned how to trust again, and how to accept help when I need it.

Open Doors and Endless Possibilities

This year of surrender has opened doors and brought blessings beyond anything I could have imagined, and the opportunities keep coming. The world truly is abundant and amazing. For the first time in a very long time, I feel excited about my future. It feels good to carry hope in my heart again.

One of my sisters sent me a text yesterday. We don’t get to see each other as often as I wish, but she told me how much joy it gave her to see my beau and me together over the holidays. Then she said, “You seem happy and lit up from the inside in a way I haven’t seen in years, if ever.”

I cried reading it. There’s something incredibly powerful about realizing your joy is visible and that it reaches the people you love.

Is life perfect? Heck no. It never will be. But I’m open to all of it - the good, the hard, and the messy. Knowing each experience holds an opportunity to grow, learn, welcome what’s new, and release what no longer serves me.

If there’s one thing this year has taught me, it’s that perspective shapes our world and that we take life way too seriously. Less really is more. Perfection is the enemy of progress. And enough will always be better than excess.

My Word for 2026

As this year comes to a close, I’ve been thinking about what’s next and what my word for 2026 might be. After spending a lot of time driving and traveling (and now fully embracing my role as passenger princess), I had plenty of time to stare out the window and reflect.

I thought about how far I’ve come this year and the possibilities ahead in the new year. The opportunities waiting. The dreams we’ve been building. And as I pictured where I want to be this time next year, one word kept rising to the surface.

Create.

2026 will be a year of creation for me. Creating my next chapter. Creating new space. Unlocking new parts of myself. Learning new skills. Welcoming new experiences. Showing up in the world with purpose, intention, and impact.

Taylor isn’t the only one with eras.
My next era is one of creation—and I can’t wait to see how beautifully it reveals itself.

What will your word for 2026 be?
What does your next era look like?

Whatever you choose, I hope 2026 is a year of exponential growth and opportunity for you. I hope it fills your heart with love, kindness, and optimism. No matter what you create, know that I’ll be over here cheering you on, babe!