A Year of Writing, A Year of Becoming. Reflections on 2025 — and What’s Calling Me Forward

Almost a year ago, I launched Beth’s Journey Unfiltered.

I didn’t have a plan.
I didn’t have a strategy.
And I definitely didn’t know what this space would become.

At the time, I thought I’d write about life—my family, our travels, the beautiful moments, the messy ones, and everything in between. I wanted a place where I could be honest. Where I could think out loud. Where nothing had to be packaged neatly or turned into a lesson.

I just knew I needed to write.

Looking back now, I’m struck by how clearly this year revealed something I couldn’t see at the beginning.

Not a theme I chose—but a calling that kept choosing me.

Writing Became the Way I Help

What this year of writing made clear, more than ever, is that I’m doing what I’m called to do.

This—writing, reflecting, sharing what I’m seeing and learning in real time—this is my way of helping others.

Not for a cost.
Not because I have something to sell.
Not because I expect anything in return.

I write because I genuinely want to help people.

I think about the studio owners I’ve talked to—owners who are tired, overwhelmed, questioning themselves, wondering if they’re doing it “right.” I think about the countless conversations I’ve had with owners all over the world who are carrying so much responsibility and rarely giving themselves credit.

I think about my own teams—the daily obstacles they face, the moments they doubt themselves, the way leadership shows up in the smallest decisions. And I think about how I coach them through it, not from a textbook, but from experience.

When I sit down to write, I’m not trying to teach.

I’m processing.
I’m reflecting.
I’m naming the things so many people are feeling but don’t always have the words for.

That’s how this blog became what it is.

None of This Was Strategic—and That’s the Truth

I wish I could say this year was intentional in a neat, well-planned way.

It wasn’t.

There was no content calendar.
No theme planning.
No long-term vision for where this would go.

I wrote when I felt called to write.

Sometimes after a hard day in the studio.
Sometimes after a conversation that stuck with me.
Sometimes when I noticed a pattern showing up again and again—burnout, misalignment, growing too fast, carrying too much alone.

Over time, those moments began to form something bigger.

Not advice.
Not answers.
But perspective.

What 2025 Taught Me About Leadership

This year taught me a lot about the leader I am—and the leader I still want to become.

It showed me that leadership isn’t about having everything figured out. It’s about being willing to slow down long enough to see what’s actually happening.

It taught me that growth without capacity doesn’t feel like success—it feels like survival.

It reminded me that burnout isn’t weakness. It’s often a signal that something needs to change.

And it reinforced something I believe deeply: the best leaders aren’t the loudest or the busiest. They’re the ones who create clarity—for themselves, for their teams, and for the communities they’re part of.

That’s the lens my writing kept returning to this year, even when I didn’t realize it at first.

What this space has allowed me to see more clearly is the work I’m already doing in my everyday life.

The conversations I have with studio owner friends who are genuinely trying to do right by their teams.
The way I show up for my own team—coaching through uncertainty, holding space when things feel heavy, reminding them they don’t have to have all the answers.
The way I hope my writing helps people slow down, take a breath, and trust themselves a little more.

This year made it impossible for me to ignore how important alignment really is.

Alignment between who you are and how you lead.
Between what you’re building and why you’re building it.
Between the pace you’re moving and the life you’re living alongside it.

For the first time in a really long time, I feel a deep sense of enough.

Not because of a title.
Not because of a role.
But because I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be—doing the work I’m meant to do, in the way I’m meant to do it.

And that clarity has changed everything.

This Space Is Allowed to Evolve

As I look back, I can see how Beth’s Journey Unfiltered has leaned more toward leadership, business, and strategy than I originally imagined.

And yes—it’s made me think about a shift.

But not yet.

What matters most to me is keeping this space open.

Open enough to write about leadership and business when that’s what’s present.
And open enough to write about family, travel, and life outside of work when that’s what wants to be shared.

Because this is my corner of the internet.

And I don’t believe we have to choose between being strategic and being human. The two inform each other more than we give them credit for.

Looking Ahead to 2026

This year lit something in me.

Writing helped me see myself more clearly—not just as a business owner or a leader, but as someone who truly wants to make a difference in the lives of others.

That’s the legacy I care about.

Helping people feel less alone.
Helping leaders trust themselves.
Helping studios build something sustainable without losing themselves in the process.

2026 is going to be a big year.

I can feel it.

And I can’t wait to continue sharing—honestly, openly, and unfiltered—as it all unfolds.

Thank you for being here this past year.
For reading. For reflecting. For thinking alongside me.

There’s so much more to come.

A Final Thought

If there’s one thing I hope this year of writing reminds you of, it’s this:

You don’t need a perfect plan to be on the right path.
Sometimes you just need to listen to what keeps calling you back.

That’s where the real work begins.

I’m rooting for you,
With love and encouragement,
Beth


As you look back on this past year, what did it teach you about who you’re becoming?


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