Choosing a Word of the Year: Why I’m Reclaiming Myself This Year

I’ve never really been a word of the year person.

I’ve admired people who do it. I’ve read the posts. I’ve nodded along. But I usually chalked it up as one more thing I wasn’t sure I could keep up with.

And yet…this year was different.

The word reclaim kept showing up in my head. Quietly. Persistently. Like it was tapping me on the shoulder and saying, Hey. It’s time.

Why I Chose the Word “Reclaim” This Year (and NOT “Redeem”)

At first, I thought my word might be redeem. But when I really looked at what that word means (to save or rescue from something) it didn’t sit right.

I don’t feel like I need rescuing.

What I feel is…lost.

While searching for words with similar meanings, I landed on reclaim, which means:

“To retrieve or recover something previously lost.”

And when I read that definition, I felt it in my chest. Like my heart jumped up and said, Yes. That’s it.

I have lost pieces of myself along the way. Not because I was careless, but because life required so much of me for so long. This year isn’t about fixing myself. It’s about getting myself back.

That’s when I knew I needed something physical. Something visible. I created a simple, pretty poster through Canva with the word reclaim. It's a reminder I could see when my brain inevitably forgets what I’m doing this for.

The Roles That Took Over (and the Joy That Slipped Away)

For a long time, my identity has been wrapped up in roles:

• Mom

• Teacher

• Caretaker

• Home manager of all the things

And while those roles matter deeply, they’ve slowly crowded out everything else. Lately, I struggle to find joy in anything I do. And the hardest part? Motherhood matters more to me than anything, yet I don’t feel like I’m showing up as my best self anymore. I feel disconnected. Hollow.

The things I used to love about myself are still there, technically:

• creativity

• laughter

• faith

• unplanned adventures

• time with my best friends

• playing with my dogs

• video games that actually engage my brain

• writing

But when I try to return to them now, they feel distant. Like memories instead of lifelines.

That’s when I realized: I haven’t disappeared. I’ve just been carrying too much.

Remembering Who I Used to Be (and What Felt Like Home)

When I think about my younger self, I don’t see someone reckless or naïve. I see someone who was:

• adventurous

• creative

• hopeful

• resourceful

• fiercely loyal

• willing to stand up for others

Joy came from connection and creativity. From singing along to the radio (hello, Delilah show), reading books, watching comfort TV, crafting, going on little adventures, and feeling supported.

I felt safe back then.

Now, I’m the one making sure everyone else feels safe, secure, and supported, and that weight adds up. The shift wasn’t about maturity. It was about becoming the safety net.

Only my mom has been a constant support throughout my life, and that truth matters more to me now than ever.

Why This Is the Year I’m Choosing a Word of the Year

I’ve spent a lot of time asking myself why this feels urgent now. Part of it is that I’m seeing small signs of growth in my marriage; enough that I finally feel allowed to make space for myself after 24 years. Part of it is that my kids are older and more independent. The world won’t fall apart if I step back just a little.

Excerpt from Codependent No More by Melody Beattie

And part of it is that last year carried a quiet, simmering sadness I couldn’t ignore. Re-reading Codependent No More by Melody Beattie reminded me of something I already knew: I’m allowed to take up space in my own home and life.

I’m exhausted from being the one who creates all the fun and joy for everyone else, while not knowing how to access it for myself anymore.

This year isn’t about doing more. It’s about feeling alive again.

The Poster, the Verse, and the Reminder I’ll Need Again

I’m a visual person. My brain doesn’t retain what it can’t see. My reclaim poster isn’t just decor. It’s proof. Proof that I can still name what matters to me. Proof that I survived seasons of turmoil before and still found joy.

I included Ephesians 2:10 on the poster, which is a reminder that I was intentionally created, even when I can’t feel it, even when faith feels quiet, even when circumstances block my view.

There was a time last year when I almost gave up. I couldn’t feel God. I couldn’t see Him in my life. I knew the only one lifting me up in prayer was my mom.

My poster exists for the next wall I hit. Not because I expect failure, but because I know myself well enough to prepare gently.

I plan to hang it next to my craft table. Creativity and calling deserve to live side-by-side.

What Reclaim Does Not Mean

Reclaim does not mean:

• Everything will magically be perfect

• I won’t forget myself again

• I have to force old interests to fit

It means curiosity over certainty.

If I discover that something I thought I wanted to reclaim no longer fits? That’s okay. This isn’t about recreating the past. It’s about learning who I am now.

Reclaim means making room. Making space. Letting myself exist beyond productivity and responsibility.

Choosing a word of the year isn’t a promise of perfection for me. It’s a hope. A direction. A way of living intentionally in the middle of ordinary days.

An Invitation for You

You are not only your roles. You are not just what you provide for others. You deserve to take up space in your own life.

If you choose a focus word for the year, don’t pick one that feels threatening or heavy. Pick one that helps you feel more at home in your own skin.

💬 I’d love to hear from you in the comments: Have you ever chosen a word of the year? If so, what was it and how did it shape your year? If not, would you like to try? What word feels gentle and meaningful for you right now?

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TL;DR

I chose the word reclaim as my word of the year because I’ve lost pieces of myself to years of responsibility and caregiving. This year isn’t about fixing or perfecting. It’s about rediscovering joy, creativity, faith, and identity in small, intentional ways. A word of the year doesn’t need to challenge you. It can help you come home to yourself.

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