A Quiet Year

My 2025 was, well… quiet.

I moved from a loft to a house.

I traded a walkable downtown for a development.

I got a dog.

I sat in that house with my dog and finished my dissertation.

I settled into a job that I adore.

I recorded a season of the podcast.

I read books.

I focused on my health.

No fireworks.

No buzz.

Just quiet.

Did you have a quiet year, too?

At first, I felt guilt, anger, and resentment toward my quiet year.

Is this it for me now? I had checked all my self-prescribed boxes:

Married.

Homeowner.

Dog mom.

College professor.

And yet... it was so quiet.

Then, after a glass of white wine and some end-of-year reflection, it hit me.

When it’s quiet… it’s easier to hear.

Hear what?

Myself. Duhhh.

For the first time in a long time, me, myself, and I became best friends. I spent the year listening (really listening) without distraction or noise.

And because I listened, as I enter 2026, I know with confidence what I want to stop doing, continue doing, and start doing.

The quiet was foundational.

Like stretching before a workout.

Or, like a warm-up run.

It’s the part we often skip, but the part that makes everything else possible and better.

My original guilt, anger, and resentment melted into gratitude.

A quiet year is f****** awesome.

And now, in 2026, I’m welcoming noise.

But only because the quiet told me I’m ready for it.

If you had a quiet year, too, celebrate it.