The Magic of Being Real

The new year often invites a sense of renewal, hope, and ambition, but for many of us, it can also feel overwhelming. The idea of setting goals or chasing passions can feel unattainable when life has been a constant cycle of challenges. As I’ve been reflecting over the past month, diving into journaling and introspection, I’ve realized something vital: There is immense power in embracing the chaos and vulnerability of simply being.

For years, I’ve lived in what feels like a perpetual state of crisis—a one-sided marriage, motherhood, poverty, chronic pain and health problems, and divorce. Finally out of the destructive marriage for the last three and a half years, I then followed it up with two house remodels, moves, personal upheavals, supporting others through their own challenges, and having very little capacity left for navigating my own issues.

Somewhere along the way in all of the mess, the lines blurred between who I truly am and what I’ve been reflecting back to the world. I'd lost touch with my passions and desires, left behind pieces of myself that I didn’t feel I could hold onto because I had to care take. And I felt I had to care take in order to make the space around me safe enough to survive.

I am finally at a place in my life that feels like the calm after a storm. Climbing out of the rubble, I’ve begun taking stock of the life I’ve lived and the shape it has left me in. There is no going back—no undoing the years of hardship or missed growth. But there is forward. Each step, however small, helps me rediscover the woman I am becoming and the joy she is capable of finding.

We have entered Capricorn season, and for me this is usually one of the heaviest times of the year. No sunlight, the bitter cold is beginning, and the energy is wintery and bleak. But this year something is different. This year I vowed to get vulnerable with myself. To sit fully in the discomfort of grief and loss, to ask myself the gentle questions of ‘why’ and ‘what do I truly want now?’

This year, I’ve started to truly allow myself to grieve. I cry often these days—sometimes over things that seem small on the surface but carry so much depth beneath them. The grief over what I’ve lost has grown lighter, as I’ve allowed it to leave me, drop by drop. Now, my tears come from a different place: a yearning for peace, for love that flows mutually and respectfully, and for the freedom to create again.

I cry for the battles I still fight with the old patterns that linger, patterns that kept me safe in the past but no longer serve me. I cry for the part of me that craves more than living at the very edge of my capabilities. Just because I can handle everything doesn’t mean I should—it doesn’t mean it brings me joy or fulfillment.

Through these moments of vulnerability, I’ve begun crafting a new pattern, step by step. I’m learning to prioritize peace and joy over productivity. To only give my energy to the things that refill me instead of draining me. I’ve realized that true success isn’t about perfection or achieving every goal society sets—it’s about reconnecting with what matters most to me and allowing myself the grace to show up imperfectly but authentically.

I am no longer chasing the impossible pressure of having it all figured out. Instead, I’m embracing the messiness, the tears, and the creative sparks that arise when I give myself permission to just be. Each day, I choose to lean into what feels real, grounding myself in the balance between feeling and thought, head and heart. That’s where my healing begins.

For me, this is what Real Vibes is all about. Being real, being vulnerable, and getting back to actually being able to hear our own inner voice again, in all the forms it speaks to us through. To be able to sit with ourselves in the murk and the mess, and the things that hurt so deeply that we’re scared to look at them face-on. To acknowledge the struggles, and lean into the unknown. Because it’s right here in all this mess of feelings that the growth and transformation actually begin.

When I give myself the space to sit with this, to rage, to cry, to rest, there is peace that happens in the aftermath. Peace, for me, is my gateway to inspiration. Because the peace of being real is what allows me to also experience joy. And joy is my spark, reigniting small acts of creativity, even amidst the challenges of physical pain or emotional exhaustion. I have learned through this year of vulnerability that establishing my inner peace is the only way I am going to make it going forward.

Life is chaotic, but it is also a canvas, and I am embracing both the messiness and the beauty of being real. I am walking into the rest of my life, not with rigid resolutions but with an open heart, ready to create and embrace the experiences that make life worth living.

As you step into 2025, I encourage you to embrace your own vulnerability. Take time to sit with your feelings, to rest, to grieve what has passed, and to dream of what could be.  Ask yourself: What do I truly need right now? What am I craving, not just externally but deep within my soul? What are you ready to create or let go of this year? And remember, the answers may come slowly. They may come in fragments. They may even be

confusing and hard to see through the overlay of desperate need. But every small step you take toward reconnecting with yourself is a victory.

Join me in the journey: Share in the comments—What are you ready to create or let go of this year? Let’s start the conversation and inspire each other to take our next steps with courage. 💖