The Presence Reset: What I’m Leaving Behind to Lead with More Power in 2026

January has a way of inviting performance.

New goals. Clean slates. Confident declarations about what’s coming next.

But for many of us, leadership doesn’t actually begin with clarity.
It begins with reckoning.

This past year, my tenth year in business, was the hardest year I’ve ever had.

That’s not something I say lightly.

The economy shifted in ways none of us could control. Work slowed. Decisions that once felt stable suddenly carried weight I hadn’t felt before. And for the first time since I began this work, I made the decision to lay off my team.

That moment cracked something open in me.

For a long time, my identity had been quietly braided with my business. With revenue. With growth. With the image of momentum. Letting go of my team wasn’t just a financial decision; it felt like a personal one. Like stepping out of a version of myself I had inhabited for a decade.

At the same time, I was making a conscious choice — not out of fear, but out of clarity.

I had just turned 60. My book was on the horizon. And I could feel a deeper question asking to be answered:

What is the legacy I actually want to leave?

For years, I had been doing deep, meaningful one-on-one coaching. At the end of 2024, I was supporting 18 individual clients across multiple organizations: a restaurant group, a group of doctors, and a broadband company, among others. I loved the work. I loved my clients.

But I also noticed something I couldn’t ignore.

I was addressing the same themes again and again.
Voice. Authority. Burnout. Belonging. Presence.

And I knew in my bones: it was time to build something more focused. More scalable. More aligned with the women I felt called to serve — particularly women in STEM and male-dominated environments who were carrying enormous responsibility with very little space to breathe.

So I stepped back.

I did the kind of thinking I encourage leaders to do all the time — the quiet kind. The staring-out-the-window kind. The kind where you let the answers rise instead of forcing them.

That’s when I created the Executive Presence Accelerator.

It’s now in its fourth cohort. The results have been extraordinary. Women are getting promoted. Speaking with clarity. Reclaiming authority without burning out. The decision was right.

But that doesn’t mean it was easy.

Some clients were confused when I stopped offering the programs they loved. A few were upset. One relationship ended entirely — without conversation, without repair. I reached out. I stayed open. And eventually, I had to accept what I could not control.

That loss sat heavily with me.

Because leadership doesn’t just cost you comfort.
Sometimes it costs you approval.

This year also brought old ghosts to the surface, mistakes I’ve made, decisions I questioned, fears about repeating patterns. Late-night loops of What if I got it wrong? and What if this comes back to haunt me?

If you’ve ever been there, you know how loud those voices can get when everything else goes quiet.

And yet — something else happened too.

As the external structures stripped away, something inside me steadied.

I realized I am more than my bank account.
More than my title.
More than the version of myself that knew how to perform strength.

What emerged instead was grounding. Confidence without bravado. A heart more open — and more willing — than ever before.

Then came Hanukkah.

I chose to start an annual giveaway — eight nights of leadership reflections — all on my own. There were glitches. Broken links. Emails that didn’t land quite right. It kept happening night after night. The women in the Hanukkah Giveaway were so generous. They let me know each and every time. They were as committed to my success as I was to theirs (and why I started this in the first place). I felt like I had to address it openly.

But I was hesitant to do so.

Truth? I was scared.

Scared of how much to reveal.
Scared of being judged.
Scared I’d lose the new people who were experiencing me for the very first time.

But I told the truth anyway.

And instead of losing people, I heard back from women who were walking the same road:

“Thank you for always being authentic and honest. It’s been a challenging time for many, including me.”

“This one resonates especially.”

What that taught me — again — is this:

Presence isn’t about having everything buttoned up.
It’s about staying aligned when things are messy.

That’s my presence reset for 2026.

I’m leaving behind:

• The belief that leadership must always look polished

• The instinct to overfunction to avoid disappointing others

• The version of myself that confuses worth with output
  

I’m rebuilding around:

• Alignment over approval

• Depth over breadth

• Leadership that tells the truth — kindly, firmly, and without apology
  

If you’re in a season where things have been stripped back…
If you’re questioning choices you once felt certain about…
If you’re carrying grief for what had to end so something truer could begin…

You are not behind.

You are practicing something real.

This year, my work is about helping women become unignorable — not louder, not harder, but more rooted in who they actually are.

If that speaks to you, you’ll hear more about Unignorable in February.
Not as a push, but as an invitation.

Because leadership in this season isn’t about performing certainty.

It’s about choosing presence….again and again….even when the path isn’t fully lit yet.