Real Talk: 2026 Intentions
Every January you are gifted the opportunity for a fresh start. You break out the clean calendars and untouched pages of your new journals where you will write your carefully sculpted routines and intentions for the year to come. You whisper these promises to yourself, imagining a version of you who is calmer, stronger, healthier, and more aligned. And for a while, the momentum builds alongside the good intentions of others around you. And then February hits.
This is when the reality of these routines, intentions, and promises hit like a ton of bricks. Exhaustion begins creeping back in along with your old habits and self-doubt. This is when you may start to acknowledge that wanting change and living change are not the same thing. This is when the flameof intention begins to burn out. And it’s not because you weren’t honest with your intentions, but rather, because you may have expected that motivation would be ever-present, carrying you from one hard day to the next.
The hard truth: Intentions are not meant to be a burst of inspiration, but rather, something you return to when inspiration begins to dim. The act of being intentional is less about what you declare to yourself and others in January, and more about how you make your decisions on an ordinary Tuesday in April. Intentions are in the moments of pause, a place when you connect your wanting change and living change. Intention is in the silent choices you make for yourself over and over again, even if the choices you make seem small and not instagram worthy, they are deeply powerful.
A kind reminder: Motivation is unreliable. It shows up when things are easy and disappears when they’re not — kind of like a bad ex or situationship. But momentum, now this is the one you want to marry. Momentum is a quiet force that is built through repeated intentions and it sticks around long after motivation leaves. Momentum shows up and acknowledges “this sucks” and follows it up with “and this is what change is going to take.”
That’s why grounding yourself in your intentions matters more than perfect follow-through.
If your intention this year is to be healthier, that doesn’t mean you never miss a workout. It means that when you do, you don’t turn it into a reason to quit. You come back.
If your intention is to have better boundaries, that doesn’t mean you’ll never overgive again. It means that when you notice you’ve done it, you gently course-correct instead of shaming yourself.
Intentions are not fragile. They don’t break because you had a bad week. They only fade when you stop remembering why you set them.
One of the most grounding practices you can have is a regular check-in with yourself. Not a harsh interrogation—just a quiet question: Am I still living in alignment with what I said I wanted?
You don’t need to overhaul your life every time the answer is no. You just need to make one small choice that nudges you back toward yourself. This is how long-term change is built: not through dramatic resets, but through gentle, consistent remembering.
So as this year unfolds, let your intentions evolve with you. Let them be flexible. Let them be forgiving. Let them be something you hold in your awareness, not something you judge yourself by. And every time you choose intentionally—no matter how small—you are building the kind of momentum that lasts far longer than motivation ever could.
Happy New Year!
