Every January, we collectively decide to become brand‑new people overnight. New year, new me. New planner. New habits. New personality.
And by January 12th? We’re tired, slightly resentful, and wondering why we thought waking up at 5 a.m. and drinking celery juice would solve everything.
So, this year, instead of resolutions that feel like a pop quiz I didn’t study for, I chose a word.
My word for 2026 is bold.
Not loud‑for‑the‑sake‑of‑it bold. Not reckless bold. But the kind of bold that takes courage. The kind that has momentum. The kind that moves you forward even when your knees are a little shaky.
Which feels fitting, because the animal of the year is the horse—a symbol of courage, freedom, and forward motion. Strong. Steady. Powerful. Not rushing, but not standing still either.
For me, bold means facing a few fears, trying new things, and gently (sometimes awkwardly) stepping outside my comfort zone. It means choosing movement over perfection, curiosity over comfort.
And maybe a little bravery sprinkled in for good measure.
The Magic of Making It Visual
One thing I’ve done for as long as I can remember—since I was a little girl—is make vision boards.
It’s something my mom always loved. She’d gather friends and loved ones, and suddenly the house would be filled with piles of magazines, paper flying everywhere, scissors snipping, glue sticks rolling under tables. Boards slowly filling up with intentions, dreams, and hope for the year ahead.
I’ve carried that tradition with me ever since—birthday parties, family nights, girls’ nights. Because for me, the magic isn’t just in the board itself. It’s in the gathering.
Getting people you dig together. Eating way too many yummy snacks. Sharing dreams out loud. Laughing. Dreaming. Gluing intentions to paper like they’re promises you’re brave enough to make.
This year, I did exactly that—with my bestie Scotia, her brother Bryson (the little brother I always wanted), and his bestie Riley.
We laughed until our cheeks hurt. We shared stories. We talked about what we want from 2026. We printed photos, scoured magazines, and made intention feel tangible.
And honestly? That alone felt bold.
A Peek at My 2026 Intentions
So, here’s a little peek into what made it onto my board:
1. Dog sledding.
I’ve wanted to go dog sledding since I was a little girl. No clue why—it’s just always lived in my heart. So I put it on the board. Because bold sometimes means honoring childhood dreams, even if they show up later than planned.
2. Gathering more.
Being intentional. Living in the moment. Choosing people over busy. There are photos of laughter, long tables, shared meals. Reminders that life happens in the togetherness.
3. Facing fears.
There’s a quote I keep coming back to: “Courage is not the absence of fear.”
And I plan to carry that hand‑in‑hand with me this year. Fear doesn’t get to drive—but it can sit quietly in the backseat while I keep going.
Bold Doesn’t Mean Perfect
When I look at my board, I’m reminded to be bold—but also to laugh. To live. To do what I need to do for me each day.
Some days, bold might look like conquering a fear. Other days, it might look like a slow morning, a deep breath, or saying no.
And let’s be real—it won’t happen every day. Because I’m just a girl doing her best out here. But I want to try.
And I want you to try, too.
Start now. Make the board. Choose the word. Visualize the intention. Start saving magazines for this year—or next. Gather your people. Glue it down. Say it out loud.
Just start.
Because we can all be bold.
