🎤 Behind the Roar | January 2, 2026
2025 was an interesting year for me.
One marked by change—sometimes welcome, sometimes unsettling—and a lot of quiet growth along the way.
I’m proud of what I built this year. I self-published my first book, and before the year closed, added a second—turning it into a two-book series (so far). I traveled to Punta Cana to celebrate dear friends and their wedding. I also spent several months living in the uncertainty of a career in limbo, as the reality of my job being eliminated slowly became final.
And as 2025 came to a close, I was given a gift I didn’t realize I needed as much as I did: time.
A full week with my brother over the holidays. Long conversations. Childhood memories. Stories of those no longer with us. Some laughter. Some tears.
That time reminded me of what truly matters.
I haven’t always been great at staying in touch with friends and family. Life has a way of pulling us forward, faster than we intend. But this year—especially after all the change—it became very clear that those connections are what bring me the most joy. They are the steady ground beneath everything else. And as an extrovert, I need those connections to ensure my “glass” remains full.
As I step into 2026, I’ve been thinking deeply about what I want the next chapter of my life to look like. I find myself in a rare position: I get to define it intentionally.
And that life looks beautiful.
I’m no longer tied to a career I had quietly outgrown. While I am actively job searching, I’m doing so with clarity—seeking opportunities that truly appeal to me, not just roles that fill space. I’ve also made a commitment to myself to return to the piano. To play weekly. Daily when I can. To rebuild my repertoire. And yes—one day soon—to perform again. It’s been more than 25 years since I last did, but why not now?
I’ve also rediscovered my love of writing in a deeper way. The Roar Like a Woman journey continues, but alongside it, new stories are emerging—dramatic fiction, a middle grade fantasy series, and ideas that feel both exciting and alive.
Looking back, 2025 was a year of resetting. Of preparation.
2026 feels like expansion. A beautiful, promising future full of yet-to-be-discovered surprises.
I’m not one for strict New Year’s resolutions, but this year holds promise, growth, and possibility—and I’m ready to meet it with curiosity and intention.
As I sign off today, I want to wish you a hope-filled, prosperous 2026.
May you move toward what matters most.
May you grow into the life you’re meant to live.
And may you continue discovering the remarkable person you already are.
— With Gratitude,
Ronda đź’›