Sometimes Rebirth Comes After the Fire: A Personal Reflection on Health & Boundaries

This year asked more of me than I expected.

It asked me to slow down when I didn’t want to. To listen when I preferred to push. To finally prioritize my health after years of telling myself I’d get to it later. I kept believing I could manage everything if I just tried harder.

I couldn’t.

2025 forced me to confront the cost of living in constant overdrive. It taught me to set boundaries and, more importantly, to keep them. Even when that felt uncomfortable. Even when it disappointed people. Even when it meant letting go of identities I had worked hard to build.

Eventually, my body spoke up when I wouldn’t listen.

A heart attack changed everything.

It stripped away the illusion that titles and roles define our worth. It showed me, clearly and without negotiation, that nothing is worth dying for. Nothing except the people you love. That truth reshaped how I see success, ambition, and what actually matters.

As I step into 2026, I’m choosing to leave certain things behind.

I’m leaving behind guilt for not doing more. Perfectionism disguised as responsibility. Shrinking myself to keep others comfortable. Asking for permission to choose joy or rest or alignment.

The word I’m anchoring into now is rebirth.

Not going back to who I was. Becoming someone new. Stronger. Clearer. More rooted. More honest about what my body and life need.

If this year asked something hard of you, too, I hope you know this. You are not behind. You are not broken. And you are not weak for needing to change.

Sometimes rebirth comes after the fire.