MADE WITH WANDERLOVE

After a fitness competition, athletes often crash.
The structure disappears.
The adrenaline fades.
The purpose dissolves.

That’s how I felt at the start of 2026.

I had just hosted the most beautiful, love-filled holiday season for my family, my chosen family, my soul-tribe of friends. I spent a month preparing, making everything intentional and magical. I wanted everyone to feel how deeply they matter to me. How grateful I am for the way they celebrate my wins and hold me in my losses.

And then… it was over.

The house was quiet.
The lights came down.
The energy disappeared.

I felt empty.
Lonely.
Out of gas.

UNCLE.

---

Part of it was grief and missing the holidays I once shared with my ex-husband.
Part of it was dating.

Because dating at 45?
Let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart.

We all carry ghosts into new connections. Old patterns. Old wounds. Old stories. We disqualify people before we even give them a chance because they’re the same height as your ex, the same zodiac sign, or from the same state as someone who once showed you men from Louisiana are just different!

I tried to date without chemistry, thinking maybe that would protect me.
But chemistry isn’t the enemy. The illusion is.

I loved my last partner.
I know that in my bones.
Whether he loved me the same way… I’ll never know.

Being alone isn’t the hard part.
Being lonely is.
Having love all around you, but no one to share the quiet moments with.

UNCLE.

---

That’s when I knew I needed support.
So I went back to therapy.

Talking to Adam reminded me of something I always forget when I’m overwhelmed:
I feel everything. The world. The pain. The injustice. The collective grief.

With everything happening in my motherland, Iran all the protests, the violence, the heartbreak, I had been carrying it like it was mine to fix.

Sometimes the camel doesn’t collapse from the big thing.
It collapses from the last straw.

UNCLE.

---

Here’s the truth:
If you have problems, you’re alive.
If you don’t… you’re just existing.

So instead of resolutions, I choose a word.
Every year.

2026: INVEST.

Because nothing changes until you’re tired of your own patterns.
Until the pain of staying the same hurts more than the fear of changing.

And I’m tired.

I’m tired of pouring love into places that don’t pour back.
Tired of abandoning myself to save relationships.
Tired of mistaking self-sacrifice for selflessness.

So this year, I’m investing in me.
In my healing.
In my joy.
In my peace.

That’s not selfish.
That’s survival.

Hold yourself the way you hold the people you love.

Because when the world gets heavy and I promise, it will, you don’t want to be begging the universe for mercy.

You want to stand strong and say:

“I’ve got me. Not screaming UNCLE!”