Turns out that might be exactly the point.

Towards the end of 2025, I tried to jump on the What-Are-My-Goals-For-2026 bandwagon along with everyone else.

You know the one.
Vision boards. Colour-coded planners. Ambitious revenue targets neatly lined up in spreadsheets.

On the 29th of December, I sat outside in the sun with a cup of tea, pen in hand, and an open notebook balanced on my lap. The magpies were loud. The garden needed watering. It was one of those slow Southern Highlands afternoons where time stretches a little, about an hour or so before the Robbo mist settled in.

I even took a photo on that day, pictured above, with the intention of sharing it on social media, telling everyone how excited I am to plan for the year ahead.

And… nothing. Crickets.

Unlike the end of 2024, when ideas spilled out of me almost faster than I could write them down, this time I couldn’t put a single goal on the page.

Not one.

At first, I thought I was just tired.
Or distracted.
Or blocked.

But after a teary phone call to my mum on the other side of the planet, a glass of red, and some honest introspection, I realised something important about myself… something I’m taking with me into 2026.

I’m just not a type A person who thrives on rigid goals, data dashboards, and long-term plans… no matter how hard I try to be.

And that’s taken me a long time to admit.

When “doing it properly” doesn’t actually fit

For years, I’ve followed business owners online who swear by structure. Quarterly goals. Annual plans. Weekly metrics. And while I deeply admire that approach (and the people who can make it work), trying to force myself into that mould has never felt quite right. And, if I have to be completely honest, not succeeding at this made me feel stupid. Dumb. Inadequate.

The truth is, I do my best work when I’m listening.
When I’m responding to something unexpected.
When I’m paying attention to what’s unfolding right in front of me.

I’m intuitive by nature. I like to cross the bridge when I get there. I like to follow curiosity. I like to leave space for the unexpected.

And yet, when I didn’t hit the goals I’d set for myself in 2025, I quietly felt like I’d failed.

Which is wild, really… because 2025 was one of the biggest years I’ve had in business.

Not because I ticked boxes or hit neat milestones (again, I didn’t), but because I said yes to opportunities I couldn’t possibly have planned for.

A client introduction that came from a casual coffee in Bowral.
A collaboration that arrived out of nowhere, at exactly the right time.
A project that started as “just a small refresh” and grew into something much deeper.
An invitation to join a local community initiative as a committee member.

None of those things were on my goal list.

But all of them mattered.

This might be food for thought for you, too. Maybe the most meaningful things that shaped your year weren’t planned either – the conversations, the chances you took, the doors that opened when you weren’t looking. And maybe 2026 doesn’t need a perfect plan so much as a little more space for those moments to find you.

This applied to life, too.

It wasn’t just business.

I set a goal to run my first full marathon in 2025. Then I got sick. Then my body said no.
Then I had to let that one go.

I also had big plans to finish all the paint jobs in and around our fixer-upper house. And if you’ve ever been in the renovation boat, you’ll know that every “simple weekend project” somehow turns into a three-month saga.

Work was busy. Life was full. Half the walls are still waiting.

And I’ve had to force myself to say that’s okay.

Here me out: I’m not anti-goals. I’m just learning that rigidity doesn’t suit me.

What suits you?

What 2026 looks like instead

So, in 2026, I’m choosing a slightly different approach.

I’ll keep trusting my gut and opt out of the notion of starting my year off with a bulletproof plan. I’ll keep doing my absolute best for the clients I’m already working with. I’ll say yes to new opportunities that feel aligned, even if they arrive without warning. I’ll keep learning – about design, about storytelling, about how technology (and AI) is quietly reshaping the way businesses show up online.

I’ll be present for my husband and kids.
I’ll spend intentional, unhurried time with friends.
I’ll get my rusty old head out into the sunshine more often – even if it’s just a walk around the block or watering the flower beds.

And I’ll trust that the in-the-moment decisions I make will work out for me, and for The Story Shed.

Because so far, they mostly have. (Case in point – I completed some really fab brand and website projects last year – feel free to browse my portfolio)

The reason I’m sharing these very personal thoughts is that I believe many of us need to hear this: Our gut is our inner superpower that we so often overlook. Let’s trust it more.

A quiet question for you

I’m not going to ask you what your goals are for 2026. Instead, I’ll ask this:

How much are you willing to trust your intuition this year?

On that note – If you’ve been feeling a gentle nudge that your brand or website no longer reflects who you are or where you’re heading, it might be worth listening to that.

Not because you should do something about it. But because sometimes, those nudges know what they’re talking about.

And if that nudge happens to involve a conversation over coffee about your story, your brand, or how your business shows up online… you know where to find me.

No pressure.
Just a conversation.

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