my worth isn't measured by how much i can endure (and neither is yours)
I have spent a lot of time in the last week reflecting on 2025 and thinking about the year ahead.
This past year was a big one for me.
I officially resigned from my position in the Government of Canada.
I became a full-time entrepreneur, able to pursue opportunities with far fewer limitations. It was exactly what I wanted when I took a leave from the public service in March 2024. I was no longer restricted in terms of clientele (other than my former department), and in addition to leadership and legacy coaching, I added Government Relations to my service offerings.
I relaunched my website and updated my branding with the incredible team at Carrie Irvine Communications (Carrie and her team Kristina Sparkes and Emily Beausoleil) and Lindsey Gibeau Photography.
I entered into a partnership, designed and taught a leadership course. It taught me so much about course development, marketing, and partnerships. Being on the same page and wanting the same things are so important. Communicating those things transparently is even more important. While the partnership didn't continue, the lessons I learned about collaboration and alignment have been invaluable.
Speaking of learning, business development was something I learned A LOT about in 2025. My biggest takeaway: it is hard work. This was an area completely new to me, so I really had to work at it. The timing of your BD efforts is a real art.
Early on, I made a classic entrepreneur mistake: I put too many eggs in one basket. I had promising conversations about a substantial Government contract that seemed like a sure thing. We are talking full-time, year-long kind of deal. When the communication suddenly stopped and I was professionally ghosted, I realized I had deferred other opportunities for months while waiting. The lesson was expensive but clear: never stop prospecting, even when something feels certain.
I was able to pick up more one-on-one clients here and there, but it was certainly much harder financially than I'd anticipated. I persevered. I kept networking and continued to look for opportunities.
Thankfully, we had planned for some rainy days (a.k.a. times when I would be making little to no income) so we could fall back on our savings. We relied on this more than I had imagined. I know, though—thanks to work with my GP and therapist—that I would not have survived more time in the public service. Leaving in March 2024 was the best thing I could have done for my health and wellbeing. In addition to my medical team, I also have a supportive husband, and so we weathered the storm.
Then, at the end of May, I got an email that changed my entire year. Caitlin Morrison, the Executive Director of The Matthew Perry House, who I had been chatting with for six months, told me she was going to her Board of Directors for approval to hire me. I am someone who believes DEEPLY in signs. The fact that Caitlin requested my CV on my very worst day of the year (May 21, the 18th anniversary of the day that Emma died) was enough for me to just know that this was going to be a good thing.
On June 3, 2025, I started my first day of part-time work with The Matthew Perry House. In September, I transitioned to full-time.
The last six months have been nothing short of amazing. My work at MPH is an amalgamation of everything I loved across all my years in Government. The best parts of every role I've held: working on issues close to my heart, developing relationships, policy work, stakeholder engagement, analysis, government relations, strategy. It's all there. When I left the public service, it took time to understand how these skills would translate. I worried they were too "government." I was wrong. These "competencies" are not only relevant outside Government—they're in high demand and essential to the work I'm doing now.
I have learned so much about myself, the charitable sector, and building a new organization from the ground up in only six months. I have also learned A LOT about leadership. I work for someone who trusts me implicitly. I have never needed to account for my hours or explain my time. This means that taking care of my kids no longer competes with my career, one of the reasons I left the public service in the first place. My job can accommodate the higher needs that my home life requires.
Caitlin is the type of leader who sets a vision and then lets me go. It's been like autonomy on overdrive. Because she trusts me, she knows I will check in for guidance and direction when I need it and will get a signal check before moving too far. It is a testament to the relationship we have built to date.
There is also a level of transparency, decision-making, and rationality that is so refreshing. There is a tolerance for taking risks. A desire to actually do things differently. Some days the work feels like chasing the end of a string that never quite reveals itself: always more to discover, more to build, more to solve. It's endless. And I love it. It's the kind of work that excites and invigorates rather than depletes.
I'm more engaged in the kids' school and activities (hello Parent Council and Chair of the Grade 6 Committee!). I can stay on top of what they need versus what they're getting at school (which for a child with an IEP can be a full-time job). I'm here for drop-off and pick-up, for those car ride conversations dissecting their day. And I'm present and patient, most days, for the harder stuff too. The meltdowns. The endless appointments and assessments. The moments that require more than I sometimes feel I have to give, but I know they need.
When I first joined MPH, I wasn't ready to throw in the towel on my entrepreneurial life, so I started part-time and maintained my business on the side. When I moved to full-time, it took time to establish a rhythm where I could manage both. By the end of 2025, I found a pace that worked. I have a sense of what's possible for 2026 and have made plans accordingly.
Which brings me to my word for the year. My favourite author, artist, and poet Morgan Harper Nichols, MFA has a post on Instagram where you can choose a word for the year. My word for 2026 is: CAPACITY.
"As energy levels change and seasons change, you are allowed to ebb and flow. Honor your capacity. “
What can you expect to see from me in 2026?
Lots more about Matthew Perry House! There is just so much to learn, and it is so exciting to be in a position to contribute to the creation of this organization while simultaneously building a better system of care for long-term treatment of substance use disorder in Canada. It feels like a bit of a dream.
More writing, podcasts, and work on leadership, grief, and end-of-life. I am really looking forward to the release of a podcast I recorded with the brilliant Jenn St John on her podcast The Shadows We Cast. We also have some very exciting work planned with Bereaved Families of Ontario - Ottawa Region ahead.
I will be running a new cohort of The Art of Leaving workshop that I launched last year. I have been busy working on improving the workshop based on the incredibly thoughtful feedback I received from the first cohort. It is going to be bigger and better!
I will be launching a new virtual, end-of-life, cohort-based planning course. The course will be structured to allow you to go through the material in a group setting and designed to get your plan started in class.
I'm relaunching my online end-of-life course. This course is also being updated and will offer new components that will help you ensure you leave your loved ones prepared.
I am keeping up with my leadership coaching, training, and facilitation services, with clients coming from my private practice, CareerJoy, and the Employee Assistance Services in the Government of Canada.
It sounds like a lot, but everything is grounded in my own capacity.
It has taken me a long time to get to the point that I am the kind of person who:
Respects their capacity in the moment.
No longer bypass the signals my body is sending me and recognize when it starts to feel like too much before hitting my max.
Can step back, prioritize, and adjust the plan even if it means risking perfection.
Acknowledges that honouring my capacity isn't about doing less, it's about doing what matters most, sustainably.
Trusts that the right opportunities will come at the right time, and that saying no to some things creates space for better things.
Finally understand that my worth isn't measured by how much I can endure, but by how intentionally I can live.
This is what 2025 taught me. This is what I'm carrying into 2026.