Why 2025 Was the Year of the Cosmic Comeback, and What Comes Next

If 2024 cracked us open, well, 2025 called our bluff.

It asked us not just say the things, but to live them.
To rest without guilt.
To feel without bypassing.
To let the dream die and still believe in magic.
To show up exactly as we were: messy, radiant, broken, reborn.

And honestly? If you were like we were, you didn’t volunteer. We were drafted into this season of integration.

Integration: The Not-So-Sexy, Soul-Saving Work

Healing isn’t always hot baths and journaling prompts. Sometimes it’s staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’re the villain. Sometimes it’s breaking your own rules, again. Sometimes it’s ghosting your to-do list to take a nap you didn’t think you earned.

This year, we (Rachelle and Shonna) both found ourselves in that weird middle place:

• Rachelle, coming back from a European summer high, found herself in a spiritual hangover, a slow integration that reminded her that adventure is fun, but coming home to yourself is holy.

• Shonna, deep in a grief portal, had to remember how to hold space not just for others but for herself. Then, when things got even harder, she had to learn to receive help fully.

We stopped running. We listened. And we made space for softness.

What If You Don’t Need a Plan?

What if you actually just need a pause?

We know, it’s the time of year when everyone’s shoving productivity hacks and vision boards down your throat.

But maybe, just maybe, this isn’t the season to get louder.

Maybe it’s the season to:

✨ Ask yourself who you’ve become in the quiet.
✨ Celebrate the things you healed that no one knows about.
✨ Honor the ways you held on when it would’ve been easier to let go.

A Few Questions to Bring Into the New Year:

• What truths did you finally tell yourself this year?

• Where did you surrender instead of strategize?

• What version of you did you leave behind — and can you bless them on the way out?

2025 didn’t demand your perfection. It asked for your participation.
And if you’re reading this, you did the damn thing.

You didn’t quit the work.
You didn’t abandon yourself.
You’re still here.
And that’s holy.

Here’s to the wild, weird, wonderful becoming that awaits in 2026.
We’re so glad you’re coming with us.

With reverence, rest, and rebellion,
Rachelle (and Shonna)