What I’m leaving behind in 2025: Comparison, aiming for perfection, control and mom guilt

This year, as I think about the coming one, I’ve decided it’s time to let some things go. Not the big, life-altering stuff, but the little things that weigh on my shoulders month after month, quietly stealing joy.

Here’s what I’m leaving behind in 2025:

1. The idea that I have to do everything perfectly.

I have finally accepted that my “perfect life” is a myth. Some weeks will just be wonky. Some cookies will be burnt. Some days, I won’t even get out of my pajamas until noon and that’s okay.

2. Mom guilt that comes with every decision.

Should I sign her up for every activity? Should I make homemade gifts for everyone we know? Should I enforce every rule? No. I will trust my instincts instead of letting guilt decide my day.

3. Comparing myself to other parents.

Instagram will keep scrolling. Pinterest will always have a better house than mine. I am enough. My daughter is happy. That is what matters.

4. Holding onto grudges and tiny annoyances.

The unresolved frustrations with friends, family, neighbors, they don’t need to follow me into the new year. Life is too short to carry resentment like a heavy coat in July.

5. Trying to control things I can’t.

Especially this past year, I’ve learned that some things, health, schedules, moods, are not mine to command. The more I fight them, the heavier I feel. Letting go feels like a gift I give myself.

6. Expecting my daughter to be exactly who I imagined she would be.

She’s full of surprises, and some of them aren’t what I expected. I’m leaving behind the rigid idea of what she “should” do or be, and embracing the amazing, messy, brilliant person she is becoming.

7. Perfectionism disguised as tradition.

The holidays, birthdays, and celebrations don’t need to be flawless. They need to be real. They need to be lived and enjoyed, even if things go sideways.

This list isn’t about giving up. It’s about making room for laughter, for wonder, for mistakes, for real life. I want 2026 to feel lighter. Because here’s the thing I want to carry forward: happiness isn’t in doing everything right, it’s in noticing what matters and letting the rest fall away.

So goodbye, 2025. I won’t forget you, you’ve taught me a lot but I’m leaving behind the heavy parts. I’m stepping into 2026 with open hands, ready to hold what matters most: love, family, and a little more patience for myself along the way.