Bravely Connected

As we begin a new year, I want to do something a little different. I don’t want to talk about goals. I don’t want to talk about becoming “better versions” of ourselves either. Instead, I want to talk about what we might be leaving behind as we step forward.

I’ll explain why.

I’m a bit of a culture rebel when it comes to the modern obsession with the self. Yes, being bravely connected to ourselves matters deeply. But when we stay there—when everything revolves around self-focus—we risk losing perspective. We can slowly drift into a kind of narcissistic culture where we are so focused inward that we miss what really connects us to others.

So this conversation isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s not about failure. In fact, I don’t believe in failure at all. I believe there is only learning.

We don’t leave things behind because we weren’t strong enough, capable enough, or intelligent enough. That whole idea of “not enough” doesn’t belong here. We leave things behind because we’ve grown wise enough to recognize what no longer serves us—so that we can be more bravely connected to ourselves and to others.

This is a gentle walk, friends. These kinds of “leave behind” conversations can sometimes feel heavy, but that’s not the intention here. What follows are seven things to leave behind—not out of bitterness, not out of a “thank goodness that year is over” kind of energy (even if that resonates), but out of wisdom.

So take a deep breath. Let’s begin.

1. Leaving Behind the Habit of Over-Explaining

The first thing I want to leave behind is over-explaining ourselves.

I’ll start with a story. I once met up with a coach and friend of mine—Dietrich, an emotional intelligence coach who has been on the podcast—for coffee. At the time, I barely knew him. We were chatting, and I was sharing something personal when he stopped me mid-sentence.

He said, “Wait. I don’t feel connected to you right now at all.”

It completely threw me off. I remember thinking, What do you mean you don’t feel connected to me? I’m sharing my heart with you. But then he said something that changed everything for me.

“When you over-explain,” he told me, “it’s self-protection. You’re protecting yourself right now.”

I was stunned. I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it. But he was right.

There are times when sharing our hearts is healthy and necessary. But over-explaining—this is different. Over-explaining is like ruminating out loud. We think we’re seeking clarity, but we’ve moved beyond clarity and into self-protection without realizing it.

This is a tricky one, and I’m starting with one of the hardest. So if you’re tempted to stop reading, don’t. Stay with me.

The key here is curiosity, not judgment. This isn’t about telling yourself you’re failing again. You’re not. You’re simply noticing.

• You may start to recognize over-explaining when you feel like you constantly have to justify your needs. You say it once, then again, and again, almost on repeat—waiting for the other person to nod, to show understanding, to validate you.

• Another sign is when you feel the need to repeatedly advocate for and explain your boundaries. Or when you find yourself constantly justifying your values to someone.

Now, to be clear, we do need to explain our needs, boundaries, and values. That’s healthy. But sometimes those words fall on deaf ears—and instead of stopping, we keep going.

I’ve done this with my husband. He sees the world very differently than I do, and there have been moments where I’ve over-explained my needs, my boundaries, and my values for an hour—hoping for some sign of understanding, some spark of recognition.

But that’s the problem. I wasn’t sharing to connect. I was sharing because I needed him to understand me in order to feel justified.

That was my work to do.

People who are committed to understanding you don’t need to be convinced—no matter how much you explain. And there will be people in your life, even people very close to you, who may never fully understand you. They’re different humans, with different lenses on the world.

And then there’s the harder reality. What about the people you can’t leave?

Your kids. Your partner. Your parents.

I remember realizing one day, I can’t leave my kids. They’re eight. They don’t understand me—and I still have to stay. We live in a world that says, “You don’t get me? You’re cut out.” But we can’t live in a cutthroat world like that.

We have to learn how to be bravely connected to our inner world so we can differentiate. Some people belong on the outer rim of our lives. Others—like my husband—stay.

I’ve been married for 26 years. I have a good man. A really good man. And my brave choice has been this: I don’t need his full understanding in order to stand confidently in my needs, boundaries, and values.

There are things he needs to meet. And there are things that are my responsibility alone.

The same is true for you. Only you can decide what your needs, boundaries, and values are—and what others are responsible for meeting versus what is yours to carry.

So how do we move away from over-explaining?

Here’s the tool: Say what is true for you once. And then stop.

If someone asks you to repeat it because they didn’t hear you, that’s fine. But don’t repeat it to convince. Silence on the other end doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Sometimes it simply means you’re done negotiating your humanity.

And that will feel far more powerful than over-explaining ever did.

Let’s leave that in 2025.

2. Leaving Behind Relationships That Make You Shrink

The second thing to leave behind is relationships that make you feel small.

This one can be painful—especially when it’s family or long-time friends. But here’s the truth: if belonging costs you your voice, your energy, or your nervous system, that’s not belonging.

That’s endurance.

It’s like running a marathon over and over again. And eventually, it will wear you down.

Pay attention to where you feel you need to soften your truth, dim your joy, downplay your success, or manage other people’s comfort just to stay connected. That’s not safety. That’s not real connection. That’s pseudo-connection.

You get to choose who is in your inner circle. That’s not exclusion—it’s discernment.

I’ve talked before about the bullseye model: people closest to you should not punish you for your honesty. They should celebrate your wins, not label your confidence as arrogance.

Some people think I’m cocky because I share my successes publicly. But I also share my failures. I share my learnings. I share all of it. That’s not ego—it’s self-assurance.

Belonging should feel steady. It should not feel like walking on eggshells.

You get to decide who stands closest to you.

3. Leaving Behind the Confusion Between Being Needed and Being Valued

The third thing to leave behind is confusing being needed with being valued.

This one is especially for the helpers. For those of us who love making a difference and showing up for others.

Being needed can feel meaningful. It can even feel like love.

I experienced this recently in my community when people threw a party for me and crowned me the “Queen of Ogden.” I was deeply grateful for their thoughtfulness —it was beautiful and generous. But it also made me vulnerable.

The danger would have been letting that moment turn into: They need me.

When being needed replaces mutuality, it quietly drains you.

So here’s a gentle question to sit with: who checks on you when you stop producing? When you stop giving? When you stop making a difference?

For many of us, connection has been built on what we give. And when the giving stops, so does the connection.

Being valued means you matter even when you’re not producing. Even when you’re not helping. Even when you’re just being.

That’s why I often tell the people I lead—across my nonprofit work and the teams I serve—that I value them more than what they do.

And this is where the work continues.

Continuing to Lead With Value, Not Output

This matters because so many of us have learned to attach our worth to our usefulness. So here’s a question worth sitting with: who values you when you’re not fixing, leading, or holding everything together? Notice those people. And at the same time, guard your heart against over-focusing on those who don’t.

Let them off the hook.

Not everyone is meant to meet you in that place—and that doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.

4. Leaving Behind Guilt-Based Boundaries

Boundaries built on guilt will never hold. They bend. They leak. And eventually, they exhaust you.

If every yes you give is followed by resentment, your boundary itself may not be wrong—but your motivation is off-center. Instead of asking, “What should I do?” try asking a more honest question: “What do I realistically have capacity for right now?”

Capacity includes what brings you joy, where you feel strong, and what energizes you. Constraints matter too—your time, your life stage, whether you have young children, aging parents, or other responsibilities that shape your day-to-day reality.

Knowing your capacity and honoring your constraints allows you to build boundaries that are sustainable. This isn’t selfish. It’s honest. And honesty is what makes boundaries work.

5. Leaving Behind Waiting Until Burnout to Rest

We all know this intellectually, and yet we still do it. I’ve seen it so clearly in educators—starting September strong, full of energy and vision, and then by December feeling depleted and overwhelmed.

Here’s the truth: rest is not a recovery tool. Rest is a sustainability practice.

If rest only comes after resentment, exhaustion, and overwhelm have set in, it’s already too late. What if this year, rest came before burnout? What if we scheduled rest while we still felt okay—and protected it as something essential?

You do not need to earn rest. You do not need to hit rock bottom to deserve it. Rest is how we stay whole.

6. Leaving Behind Carrying What Was Never Yours

This one is subtle, and it can be heavy—especially for empathetic, caring people. The question becomes: how do we care without carrying?

We can love people without fixing them. We can show up without becoming the savior. One question I often ask myself is: Is this mine to fix, or just mine to witness? How can I care in this moment without taking on a weight that doesn’t belong to me?

Sometimes compassion looks like presence, not responsibility. And that distinction can be life-saving.

7. Leaving Behind Belonging That Requires Self-Betrayal

You cannot heal or thrive in spaces where you are constantly managing other people’s comfort. If belonging requires you to betray your values, silence your voice, shrink your personality, or stay agreeable at the cost of your truth—it isn’t belonging.

In those moments, you’re not belonging to yourself, and you’re not truly belonging with others either.

As you move forward, build belonging in places where your nervous system can breathe. Notice how your body responds in different environments and relationships. Pay attention to where honesty doesn’t cost you connection, where you don’t have to perform to be accepted.

That’s real belonging.

A Closing Reflection for the Year Ahead

Leaving these seven things behind is not about failure—it’s about growth.

The year ahead does not need a better version of you. It needs a more honest, more rested, and more self-connected version of you.

If this reflection resonated with you, consider saving it or sharing it with someone who may need permission to let some of these things go. And as always, stay bravely connected to yourself so you can stay bravely connected to others.

I can’t wait to journey with you this year. Keep being brave.