This season has been full in many good ways. I am continuing to grow Mission ENSPIRE, preparing for speaking engagements and managing the responsibilities of my leadership role in my day job. None of these things are new to me, and none of them are unwelcome. In fact, they are deeply aligned with my purpose. But alignment does not automatically guarantee sustainability, and that is where I have had to pause.

As leaders, especially as women who lead in multiple spaces, we often become very skilled at carrying a lot. We know how to show up. We know how to deliver. We know how to hold space for others while quietly managing our own expectations and responsibilities in the background. Over time, that capacity becomes something people rely on. Sometimes we rely on it too.

But just because we are capable does not mean we are always operating within healthy capacity.

I have learned that when my energy begins to shift, it rarely announces itself in dramatic ways. It does not usually look like burnout in the way we imagine it. More often, it shows up as subtle irritability, or a slower pace in my creativity, or a feeling that even meaningful work requires more effort than usual. It is less about collapse and more about erosion. And that is usually my signal to pay attention.

Recently, I did what I would describe as a quiet energy audit. I did not overhaul my calendar or make sweeping declarations. Instead, I asked myself a few honest questions. Where am I feeling energized right now? Where am I feeling stretched? Are there commitments I have taken on out of habit rather than intention? Are there places where I am defaulting to availability instead of alignment?

What I noticed was not catastrophic, but it was instructive. There were small “yeses” that did not fully reflect this season. There were moments where I had extended myself simply because I could. There were areas where I had not clearly defined what was mine to carry and what was not. None of those things were inherently wrong. But collectively, they were costly.

Energy, I am realizing more deeply, is not just about sleep or rest days, although those matter. It is about stewardship. It is about recognizing that my leadership, my creativity, my clarity and even my presence with my family are all connected to how well I manage what I allow to draw from me.

This month, I have been reflecting on this topic even more intentionally because I am one of the speakers inside MEE Month, and Week 2 of the experience focused on Energy. My session is titled Stop Pouring From an Empty Cup: Energy Boundaries for Women Who Lead, and in it I explore many of these same questions from a coaching perspective.

Even though Energy Week has passed, the sessions are available throughout the month, and I wanted to share this with you because I know how easy it is to normalize depletion when you are competent and committed. In my session, I talk about recognizing where energy is quietly leaking, setting boundaries that are sustainable rather than reactive, and reframing self-care not as indulgence but as leadership strategy.

If you have been feeling slightly off, slightly stretched, or simply more tired than your schedule seems to justify, this conversation may resonate with you.

As I continue reflecting on energy and alignment, I am also beginning to notice how closely connected this topic is to perfectionism. Sometimes we overextend not because we lack boundaries, but because we are trying to meet an internal standard that keeps moving. We tell ourselves we just need to do a little more, refine a little more, prove a little more.

This is not the first time I have wrestled with this tension. In From Perfectionist to Progress-Seeker: Embracing the Imperfect Journey, I began exploring what it means to loosen the grip of perfectionism. Next month, I want to explore that more fully and talk about what it really means to move from perfectionism to progress, and how releasing unrealistic standards can restore not only our confidence, but our capacity. Because protecting your energy is one step. Learning to stop holding yourself to impossible expectations may be the next.

So I did not post in December.
And I did not post in January either.

Instead, I chose to pause. And honestly, it was one of the most grounding decisions I have made in a long time.

In my coaching training, we spend significant time on a skill called active listening, specifically what is often referred to as Level 2 listening. It is the kind of listening where you are fully present with the person in front of you, not mentally preparing your response or thinking about what is next on your calendar. I teach this skill. I coach others on it. And still, during high pressure seasons, I catch myself slipping into distracted presence. That is why I close Teams during one on one meetings. It is a small boundary, but it matters. If notifications are popping up or my task list is visible, I am not fully there. I may look engaged, but my attention is divided.

December and January reminded me that sometimes we need to close more than just applications on our screens. Sometimes we need to close the expectation that we must always be producing, posting, or proving something in order to be valuable.

What the Pause Taught Me

When I gave myself permission to step back from writing, something unexpected happened. Instead of feeling behind, I felt grounded. Instead of feeling guilty, I felt clear. I rested without feeling like I had to earn that rest through productivity. What surprised me most was this. The pause did not disconnect me from my purpose. It deepened it. By allowing myself space, my reflections became clearer and more honest. I was reminded that sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is trust that our work will still be there when we are ready, and that our commitment is not measured by constant output.

That pause extended into January, intentionally. Instead of rushing into the new year with plans and pressure, I attended the Elevate and Empower Retreat, a guided experience created for clarity, alignment, and intentional momentum. What I needed most was not another strategy. It was space.

Space to slow down enough to see what had been taking shape beneath the surface. Space to listen for how I wanted to show up, how I wanted to share my work, and how to protect my energy while doing it. And in that quiet, I realized something simple but powerful. I do not need to become someone new to move forward. I need to lead from who I already am, with consistency and intention. During the retreat, the focus was not urgency or reinvention. It was integration. I spent time bringing together parts of myself that I had unconsciously kept separate, my professional leadership and my entrepreneurial work. What became clear is that the next season of growth is not about pushing harder. It is about structure, focus and visible action that honors both my values and my capacity.

Ironically, this experience echoed something I created last year, a personal retreat guide meant to help others pause, reflect, and reconnect with themselves without needing perfect conditions. Sitting in a retreat space centered on my own business reminded me that the practices we offer others are often the very ones we are invited to return to ourselves.

I left January not with dramatic answers, but with clarity, alignment, and a renewed commitment to lead and share my work in ways that honor my energy, my values, and the season I am in.

Looking Back at 2025

As the pause created space, I found myself reflecting on the year that had passed. Not through a list of accomplishments or goals met, but through a deeper awareness of who I am becoming. Every year has its own rhythm. Some years are about building. Others are about releasing. Some are defined by visible milestones. Others by quieter internal shifts.

For me, 2025 was a year of finding my voice. Not the voice I use when facilitating or coaching, but my voice as a speaker and leader representing my own brand, and as someone willing to be seen. At the beginning of the year, I would not have used the word speaker to describe myself. Even though I facilitated. Even though I trained. Even though I stood in front of rooms leading conversations. I had not fully claimed it.

Today, I can say it clearly. I am a speaker.

That shift did not happen all at once. It happened through consistent, imperfect action. Month after month of showing up, speaking, and using my voice even when it felt uncomfortable. One way I stretched myself was volunteering to go first. On calls. In conversations. In spaces where it would have been easier to stay quiet. Going first did not always feel brave. Sometimes it felt exposed. But with each moment of practice, my confidence followed.

Courage came first. Confidence followed through repetition.

What deepened in 2025 is carrying forward into this year as I step into new speaking opportunities in February during MEE Month and join the Women Thrive Summit in March.

Leadership Growth and Responsibility

2025 also brought new leadership challenges in my role at LISC. I fully stepped into my position where I manage people leaders. I do not directly own the work, but I am accountable for outcomes. That responsibility carries weight. That weight is real, and some days it’s nerve-wracking. Some days, I wondered if I was guiding my team well enough. Other days, I surprised myself with the strength I didn’t know I had. Leadership has a way of showing you both your doubts and your growth at the same time.

What I learned is this: you don’t always feel ready. You second-guess. You compare. You wonder if you’re really walking in your purpose. But clarity doesn’t come first it comes from taking action.

This became especially clear in September when I participated in the Financial Opportunity Center® (FOC) 20th Anniversary National Convening here in Chicago. As I shared in Honoring Legacy, Living Purpose, that experience was both humbling and affirming. Leading a coaching practicum for twenty four participants, serving on the opening plenary panel, and receiving recognition from partners I deeply respect, including an unexpected standing ovation and a welded plaque from Jane Addams Resource Corporation, reminded me that the seeds we plant quietly year after year do take root.

That moment of being seen and acknowledged by my community taught me something important: we often can’t see our own impact until others reflect it back to us. And sometimes our greatest growth happens not in the spotlight moments, but in the decades of consistent showing up that come before them.

The Entrepreneurial Middle

If I am honest, 2025 was also challenging in my entrepreneurial journey. I have been building Mission ENSPIRE for four years. In 2025 progress felt slower than expected. There were moments when the question shifted from can I do this to can I keep doing this.

This is the part we do not talk about enough. The space between starting and thriving. Between momentum and mastery. Early courage is fueled by excitement. Sustained courage is fueled by discipline and trust. 2025 reminded me that courage is not only about starting. It is about staying. About continuing to show up even when results lag behind effort.

Releasing Recommitting and Redesigning

Now in February of 2026, I am intentional about what I carry forward. I am releasing the pressure to have everything figured out by now. Entrepreneurship does not follow a neat timeline. It follows a process. I am recommitting to using my voice consistently and to this space, Flourishing Fiercely, even when engagement feels quiet. Because I know these words reach the people who need them. I am redesigning my definition of success. In 2026, success includes consistency, courage, relationships and unseen impact. It includes honoring both my leadership role and my entrepreneurial calling as complementary expressions of the same purpose.

My 2026 Intention Sustainable Visibility

My intention for 2026 is sustainable visibility. Not visibility driven by urgency. Not visibility that leads to exhaustion.

Sustainable visibility means showing up in ways that align with my values and capacity. It means trusting that slow, intentional presence is enough. It means believing that I can be seen and whole at the same time. Publishing this post in February feels aligned with that intention. This is not about catching up. It is about beginning again with clarity.

So, here is my question for you. What are you releasing, recommitting to, or redesigning as you move through this year?

Here is to beginning again.
Here is to sustainable visibility.
And here is to continuing to flourish fiercely together.