The Year I Refuse To Shrink

This isn’t a reset.

This is a declaration.

I step into 2026 carrying every version of myself that made it here. The girl who stayed silent when she should’ve spoken. The one who spoke too loudly and was told to tone it down. The one who felt everything deeply and was made to believe that was a weakness. I bring them all with me. I owe them that.

This year, I am not becoming someone else.

I am becoming louder in my own skin.

I refuse to shrink my dreams so they sound reasonable. I refuse to dilute my opinions so they sound pleasant. I refuse to romanticise exhaustion or confuse burnout with ambition. Wanting more does not make me greedy. Wanting rest does not make me lazy. Wanting space does not make me difficult.

2026, I’m not asking you to be kind to me.

I’m asking you to be real.

Let this be the year I choose myself even when it feels uncomfortable. The year I stop waiting to be ready and start trusting that I already am. The year I build slowly, messily, imperfectly, but honestly. No performative growth. No pretending to have it all figured out.

I will take up space.

I will change my mind.

I will outgrow rooms and people and versions of myself that no longer fit.

And when fear shows up, as it always does, I won’t let it decide for me. I’ll move anyway. I’ll speak anyway. I’ll dream anyway.

So here I stand at the beginning of 2026.

Unpolished. Unapologetic. Unafraid of becoming too much.

This is the year I stop shrinking.

This is the year I arrive.

— and I’m just getting started