I can still feel the piercing sun when I close my eyes. Palm Springs has always been my oasis. Since I was nineteen, it’s been the place where the rest of the world fades, where the mountainous views allow my shoulders to finally drop, where I remember what it feels like to breathe.

But this time was different. My fiancé and I were there in July to celebrate our anniversary, and yet I spent most of the trip toggling between my email, my calendar, and the long list of things waiting for me back home. I told myself I’d relax “right after I get this one thing done.” But the list kept growing, and so did the tension in my chest.

A week after returning back home, I found myself constantly saying, “I need a vacation.” My fiancé gently reminded me that we just got back from a vacation. That’s when I realized I missed the mark. I had been in my favorite place, in a city that usually melts the stress right off me, and I hadn’t felt any of it. It was the first time Palm Springs didn’t give me peace. The escape didn’t help because I wasn’t actually escaping anything. I’d carried the pressure with me. In my thoughts, in my body, in the way I couldn’t put the work down even when I promised myself I would.

I tried to get to the root of the problem. I realized, I grew up hearing the same message on repeat: Work hard to get far. It came from a loving place. My dad believed discipline opened doors. And, in many ways, it did. I carried that lesson into adulthood, into my career, and eventually into the business I built from scratch.

But when you’re juggling a full-time corporate job and a growing business, the “always work hard” mantra becomes your identity. Rest starts to feel irresponsible. Downtime feels like you’re falling behind. There’s always another goal to chase, another level to reach, another reason to keep pushing. For years, that belief served me. Until it didn’t.

In February of last year, I really noticed what was happening to my body. My cortisol climbed. My weight fluctuated in ways that didn’t match how I was eating or moving. My nervous system stayed revved up like an engine that couldn’t shift out of drive. I had bursts of burnout where even small tasks felt like heavy lifts. Anxiety crept into corners of my life that used to feel calm.

I was “successful,” but inside, I was running on fumes. And that July trip made something painfully clear: I wasn’t just tired…I was depleted. I wasn’t just overworked…I was disconnected from myself. I had built a life full of goals but forgotten how to actually experience that life. The problem wasn’t how much was on my plate. The problem was the belief that if I stopped spinning, everything would fall apart.

I had outgrown the version of myself that thought she had to hustle her way into every blessing. I didn’t need more structure or discipline. I had mastered those. What I needed was regulation. Space. A nervous system that didn’t feel like it was bracing for impact every day. For the first time, I could finally admit: Working hard had taken me far, but it was no longer the only way forward.

As we continue to move into this new year, I’m releasing the need to always work hard. I’m letting go of the belief that nonstop effort is the only path to success. “Regulate” is my theme, not because I want to do less with my life, but because I want to experience more of it. This new year, let’s pause, breathe, rest, and relax — without the guilt!

Sis, what are you releasing this year? What do you need to let go of in 2026? Share your revelations with me in the comments.