My 2026 Wish List
As another year approaches, I’ve noticed something about the way many parents talk about the future.
There’s often pressure to make it about goals.
Resolutions.
Optimizing.
Doing more, better, differently.
But lately, I’ve been sitting with a different question:
What do I actually wish for in 2026 — not just for myself, but for the parents I work with and the ones quietly holding it all together?
Not “fix yourself” wishes.
Not hustle-in-disguise intentions.
Just gentle hopes.
Here’s what’s on my wish list this year.
A little less pressure to “optimize” motherhood
And a little more permission to be human. I wish for fewer messages telling parents they should be doing this season better. Tracking more. Enriching more. Bouncing back faster. Holding it all with grace. And more space to say: “I’m tired.” “This is hard.” “I’m doing my best — and that counts.” Motherhood doesn’t need to be optimized to be meaningful. Being present, imperfect, and human is already enough.
More neutrality around bodies
Less fixing. Less commenting. Less subtle (and not-so-subtle) messaging that bodies are projects to be managed. I wish for more moments where we can say: This body has carried a lot. Pregnancy. Birth. Feeding. Loss. Healing. Survival. And that counts — without needing to be followed by a plan to change it.
Meals that feel supportive, not stressful
I wish for food to feel less like another place parents are evaluated. Less pressure to “do it right.” Less guilt around convenience. Less noise from rules that don’t fit real life. And more meals that simply nourish — physically and emotionally. Food that works for this season, this family, this energy level. Eating regularly isn’t failure. It’s care.
Parents getting support before they’re at a breaking point
Not because something is “wrong.” Not because they’ve failed at coping. But because being human in pregnancy, postpartum, and parenting is a lot. I wish support didn’t feel like a last resort — something you earn only after you’re depleted, resentful, or barely holding on. Care can be preventative. It can be gentle. It can be allowed sooner.
More compassion when old patterns resurface
Because healing isn’t linear — especially in seasons that stretch identity, body, and nervous system all at once. I wish we were quicker to meet ourselves with curiosity instead of shame when old coping strategies, food struggles, or body image thoughts reappear. Resurfacing doesn’t mean you’re back at the beginning. It often means something tender is asking for attention.
A little more softness all around
In how we talk to ourselves. In how we measure “doing well.” In how willing we are to let ourselves be held — by others, by support, by rest. Not everything needs to be pushed through. Some things need to be met gently.
These are my wishes for 2026.
For myself.
For my clients.
For the parents quietly trying to do better without burning themselves out.
If you’re reading this and feeling a sense of recognition, you’re not behind — you’re human.
Which one of these do you find yourself wishing for lately?
And if you want more reflections like this around food, body image, healing, and parenthood — you’re in the right place. 💛
