Ever since I was a kid, goals have been central to my existence. It ranged from memorizing my multiplication tables for the ice cream party in class to finishing my master’s degree. Years ago, I even created a 100 Things to Do in 1000 Days. Having direction in my life has helped me continuously achieve more than others.

But like most people nowadays, I feel a ticking time bomb of doom counting down to some inevitable destruction we all wrought onto ourselves. Pretty sure this is just millennial anxiety at this point—in fact, when I was around 20 years old, I called my mother sobbing, pretty positive I was going to die young.

Almost twenty years later, I’m not dead yet, but I continuously exist as if this afternoon might be the moment I find my way back to the stars.

It’s served me well.

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My list of accomplishments is endless, with larger milestones punctuating the more consistent, smaller feats. From learning how to fry a pork chop properly to jumping from a plane screaming for mercy, I’ve always kept my life being lived big.

Then a funny thing happened—I stopped writing down my goals. It was in 2021 and it really stemmed from moving out on my own again when Josh and I took a break to exist apart for a bit. I normally had a large white board in the hallway, but 2021 was a very difficult year for me personally. This ingrained habit just evaporated and I didn’t remember it until…October 2024. Yes, you read that right.

For almost two years, I felt super lost. I didn’t understand why. I complained to my husband I didn’t feel like myself and couldn’t grasp why. I would set goals, yes, but nothing truly measurable and nothing I kept myself visually accountable to every day.

What changed? Well, I did. Rather, I realized what a negative loop I’d settled into. I hated the things I was and wasn’t doing, but it felt like grasping the crumbling edges of a muddy cliff—it was never enough to just pull myself up from the threat of an abyss.

I know they say mindset, mindset, MINDSET—but they ain’t lying, y’all. Suddenly, I began to tell myself “money comes to me easily.” I said it every day and reflected on its truth. I’ve always had enough, even when it didn’t afford me the “wants. I began to believe this mantra. When I received inquiries, I would say “money comes to me easily.” When I went to networking meetings, I kept saying, “money comes to me easily.”

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Then I laid in bed, got high, and stared at the ceiling while I contemplated who I was and where I wanted to be. 2025 scares me, deeply, but I can’t let the fear freeze me. When it finally hit me, remembering THE WHITEBOARD GOALS, I bolted up in bed and ran to my office where a massive white board has stayed on the wall EMPTY for MONTHS. I wrote down big EOY goals, and then November goals to kick it off. October had only three days left in it, so I decided November would be my month!

This tail-end of 2024 has been more productive than all of 2024. These were my goals. The scratched out ones I completed!:

1. Finish Through The Folded Stars (my time travel fantasy novel I’ve been working on since 2022)
2. Lose 3 pounds (I just kinda hoped this would happen—zero effort was put towards this lol)
3. Get to 60% on my yoga teacher certification course (I finished it instead and became certified!)
4. Write 2 yoga scripts for the course (I wrote all 8)
5. Go to 6 in-person yoga classes
6. Post 30 New TikToks on my Hello Hustle profile (ban be damned)
7. Read 4 self-improvement books
8. Get 8 need HH clients (I hit 5!)
9. Sell 4 templates on Etsy (Sadly, I only sold one!)
10. Go to 8 networking meetings
11. Launch 2 new templates
12. Reach 45k words on Between The Layered Universes, the sequel in my series

As you can see, I did a LOT. I checked in on these goals daily, updating the numbers on the dry erase board, then crossing them out when it was done. Some of it was completed in absolute crunch time, but with ADHD, I love that shit.

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I’ve begun to realize that these last couple years were those muddied times where you have to take some steps back to leap forward. I’m pretty optimistic about 2025 in a lot of ways, especially after we decided to move to Washington in July 2025. It’s time to leave Texas behind—I’ve spent 2/3 of my life here and I’m ready for something drastically different.

So I’ve been contemplating how 2025 will look. My goal list will be in another blog post, but I do know that my word of the year is PIVOT. Imagine Ross screaming it, except it’s me screaming at myself, holding a metaphorical life couch.

Goals should be scary, but also achievable. Otherwise, you’ll just feel defeated. Write them down, make them measurable.

Now is the time to get the shit done. With the chaos of the world, we CANNOT let it hold us back. Humans have existed in worlds of uncertainty for millennia’s—you aren’t unique in this particular thing. Everyone is scared right now, even if they say they aren’t.

But you can’t let that hold you back from living as full of a life as possible. Do the damn thing, my friend. Thank yourself later.

Have a wonderful new year and go kick 2025’s ass.

Josh and I went to Washington at the beginning of December, freezing our butts off, but amping up our excitement at the upcoming transition!