The Year That Reshaped Me

This year wasn’t what I expected.

Last year at this time, I felt like I was finally arriving. Personally. Professionally. In my confidence. In my calling. I was stepping into the life I had worked incredibly hard to build — and I genuinely believed the hardest parts were behind me.

Then everything shifted.

This year brought me to my knees in ways I didn’t see coming. It tested my identity — both as a leader and as a mother. I found myself in a storm of decisions, pressure, judgment, and massive change. There were days I sat in my car, forehead against the steering wheel, gathering every piece of strength I had just to walk in and keep leading.

And somewhere in the chaos, grief found new territory inside me.

But here’s what’s true today:

I am still standing.
Maybe not in the same place I once was,
but in a place I fought to grow into.

Grief Doesn’t Just Live in the Past — Sometimes It Shows Up in the Present

Grief didn’t only show up for the people I’ve lost.
It showed up for the life I thought I’d have.

And most painfully, it showed up in motherhood.

Watching Maddie navigate her own struggles this year — feeling her pain, her fear, her uncertainty — forced me into a level of vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for. There is a unique ache that comes from wanting to fix everything for your child and realizing you can’t.

You can advocate.
You can love fiercely.
You can show up.
But you can’t shield them from life.

There were nights I tossed and turned, praying she would feel the strength I see in her. There were moments when guilt swallowed me whole — wondering if my own stress, absence, or exhaustion played a role in her battles.

Being a mother while breaking inside is a specific kind of courage.

And yet… in the midst of all of it, I watched her rise.
And in her rising, I found reasons to rise too.

The Professional Loss That Became a Turning Point

This year also pushed me to make a career shift I never wanted but desperately needed.

I love hospice. I always have. But I started to feel that my values and my workplace weren’t aligned anymore. That the kind of leader I want to be wasn’t welcome in a system prioritizing the wrong things. And the cost of staying was becoming too high for my mental health, my family, and my integrity.

Leaving, recalibrating, and rebuilding professionally has been one of the hardest pivots of my life.

When leadership is your identity, stepping away feels like failure — even when it’s the most courageous thing you can do.

But that decision created space for something new…

What Grew Out of the Hard Stuff

Two things emerged from this difficult year:

✨ Leaders on Edge —
born from my desire to help leaders lead like humans — not robots programmed for “productivity.”

✨ Roots & Edge —
born from the truth that hospice workers deserve the same compassion they give every day.

These weren’t born from victory.

They were born from reality.
From seeing the cracks in the system and refusing to look away.

They are the result of choosing to build what I needed when I felt most alone.

Rising Anyway

This year taught me that grief and growth are not opposites — they are companions.

I can be proud of myself and also still healing.
I can love hospice deeply and also fight to change it.
I can be strong for my daughter and also fall apart at the end of the day.
I can leave spaces that no longer fit while building new ones that do.

So here’s my truth:

I am rising not because life got easier,
but because I got braver.

If you’ve had a year like mine — full of complexity, heartbreak, rebuilding, and unexpected transformation — I see you.

We are not who we were twelve months ago.
We are someone stronger.
Someone wiser.
Someone more aligned with who we’re meant to become.

And the year that nearly broke us?
Might just be the year that built us.

Here’s to stepping into the next chapter with shaky hands but a steady heart.

— Katie 🖤
For Maddie.
For the daughter who reminds me every day why I keep becoming better.