I’M SITTING IN GRATITUDE
As 2025 comes to a close, I find myself sitting in gratitude.
I've been reflecting on this year for the past few weeks — one that arrived with its own particular challenges. Then a friend shared an article noting that 2025 marks the completion of a nine-year cycle. That widened my reflection considerably, and I began looking at the larger arc of my own life. When I do, I'm struck by how much has changed. And how much I have changed.
My nine-year cycle began like this: I moved into a new home and a new office with an old mindset. In hindsight, I was trying to fit myself into spaces that didn't truly fit me. I was accustomed to "making it work." And yet, even then, I knew — consciously — that I wanted something different. I was determined to shift.
I began to individuate from my family and focused more fully on myself and my burgeoning business. Slowly, I started embracing who I am — as a person, a woman, a healing facilitator, a friend. I stopped hiding behind facades. I stepped out in front of my life and my work and began to claim space. I began to take risks.
I danced. I taught classes. I began to write again.
I started expressing myself in ways that both scared and empowered me. I learned how to support myself physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. I lived through a challenging presidency that often left me feeling off-kilter. I entered — and leaned into — menopause, an initiation all its own. I endured the isolation of COVID, buoyed by the sweet, socially distanced love of friends who showed up in ways that truly mattered. I became a cat mom and learned to gauge my own energy by how my cats responded to me.
I learned how to get vulnerable, ask for help, and lean into community. I admitted — often reluctantly — that I couldn't do it all on my own. I learned how to say no. And how to walk away from people, patterns, and commitments that didn't support my growth or my happiness.
I bought my first new car — with everything I wanted in it. I hesitated. I even called my broker to ask about a cheaper option that would simply "get the job done." He told me, "You deserve to have the car you want." I'm grateful for that lesson to this day. He was right.
I bought my first home and felt the deep relief of finally being out of the rental game. I experienced the thrill of investing in a little nest egg and the quiet gratitude of feeling supported in ways I couldn't quite explain — as I claimed what I truly wanted. I continued that practice by furnishing my home intentionally, choosing pieces I genuinely wanted to live among.
I became a Soul Motion Embodied Leadership graduate after years of dreaming of becoming a contemplative dance practitioner and instructor. And I realized my dream of becoming a shadow coach by completing a program that felt exquisitely aligned with who I am and how I want to serve.
I moved into a new office and outfitted it with everything I've always wanted in a space. No compromises. No more cutting corners to fit myself into spaces that don't fit me. No more settling for what others think I deserve. No more asking for permission to have a seat at the table. No more turning myself inside out to make others comfortable in my presence.
Fuck that.
Perhaps most importantly, I've done some deep, necessary work on myself. I accept myself as I am. I have forgiven myself for what I didn't know, for the ways I learned to protect myself, and for the coping patterns passed down through generations. I'm far from perfect — and that's okay. It's preferable, actually. I no longer need to be more than I am to be liked, loved, accepted, or appreciated.
I am enough.
As I look through photos from the past nine years, I'm deeply aware of how lucky I am. I've spent time in some amazing places and enjoyed the company of beautiful people. I'm surrounded by a community that is thoughtful, intelligent, wise, kind, wacky, curious, and soulful. And as I reflect on all those who have entered my massage studio, dance spaces, and women's groups — I want to thank you. Thank you for entrusting me with your bodies, your emotions, your spirit.
You are not just my clients, students, or participants. You are my teachers. I am deeply grateful for all that I learn from you.
As the new year — and a new cycle — approaches, I can feel a nervous excitement stirring in my body. Old habits loosening their grip. Space opening up for more juiciness to enter. I'm stepping into this next cycle with a guiding word for 2026: Devotion. Devotion to better health, deeper connection with my inner knowing, a thriving business, more play, and greater trust in myself, the universe, and divine timing.
Did I mention more play? It's so time.
And trust me — I'm dialing it up to eleven.
With gratitude and readiness, Natalie Gentry