Golden — Turn Your Scars into Stars
Thu Jan 01 2026
Welcome to 2026.
Every New Year’s Eve, I have a ritual.
I choose a word —
not a goal,
not a resolution —
but a frequency.
A word I don’t just think about,
but live inside of.
As I felt into this next lap around the sun,
I asked myself what it truly means
to embody inner divine union —
not as an idea,
but as a way of being.
And the word that kept rising was Golden.
Not perfect.
Not polished.
But forged.
Warm.
Radiant.
Alive.
So my word for 2026 is Golden.
This is not a story about healing.
It is a story about remembering
that you were never broken.
This is for the parts of you
that learned to stay quiet,
to stay small,
to survive by dimming your light.
Let this be a moment
where you stop stitching silence into your breath.
Let this be a place
where the jagged edges are allowed to glow.
Welcome.
This is Golden.
More
Welcome to 2026. Every New Year’s Eve, I have a ritual. I choose a word — not a goal, not a resolution — but a frequency. A word I don’t just think about, but live inside of. As I felt into this next lap around the sun, I asked myself what it truly means to embody inner divine union — not as an idea, but as a way of being. And the word that kept rising was Golden. Not perfect. Not polished. But forged. Warm. Radiant. Alive. So my word for 2026 is Golden. This is not a story about healing. It is a story about remembering that you were never broken. This is for the parts of you that learned to stay quiet, to stay small, to survive by dimming your light. Let this be a moment where you stop stitching silence into your breath. Let this be a place where the jagged edges are allowed to glow. Welcome. This is Golden.