The Year I Tended the Wound
- Sarah Amoros

- Jan 8
- 3 min read
January 8th, 2026
Last year, I welcomed abundance into my life. As my best friends and I gathered in my childhood home to make our yearly vision boards, I knew that mine would be fulfilled. I was not just slabbing Mod Podge over aesthetic pictures. I was embedding intention into the next twelve months.
My 2025 vision board included the following:
Living in the mountains and great outdoors with a move to Maine
Having a place of my own
A dog by the side of a twenty something woman on various adventures
Cameras and film photography
Books, studying, learning and nursing
Try to trust love again
Forgive
Let go of anxiety and insecurity
Gain community and friendship
Help teenagers and be a leader
Writing and poetry
Bring love everywhere
Fitness and exercise
Figure out what faith looks like to me
A healthy relationship with food
Joy
Instead, My 2025 went as follows:
Moved to Idaho instead of Maine while remaining surrounded by mountains and the great outdoors.
Found a place of my own and learned how to fully take up space within it.
Adopted a puppy who is constantly by my side and named her Empathy, a reminder to always lead with it.
Expanded a photography portfolio.
Returned to school pursuing a Master’s in Social Work instead of nursing.
Went on many dates but discovered a preference for my own company for a while.
Forgave him and moved on not without grief but without resentment.
Released anxiety and insecurity through therapy, deleting social media, and choosing myself.
Found community and friendships that are unconditional, steady, and grounding.
Landed a first career job helping teenagers form healthy relationships and stepped into leadership.
Republished a book of poetry to reflect growth, clarity, and understanding.
Began seeing love everywhere including in personal accountability and action.
Fell in love with wellness, movement, and began a personal training certification.
Defined what faith looks like on my own terms.
Formed the healthiest, most consistent relationship with food to date.
Learned that by confronting perspective and restructuring thoughts, joy became a practice and not a destination.
I share this not because I got everything I wanted, but because I got everything I needed, just not in the way I expected it to appear. We all have preferences for how we want life to go, and life has preferences for how it wants to shape us.
None of this happened overnight, but it happened faster than I ever thought possible. I set intentions and then let them go. Discipline built this life. Risk after risk built this life. Along the way, I stopped trying to chase the snake to ask why it bit me and chose instead to tend to the wound.
Now I live surrounded by mountains, working a job more meaningful than I ever thought a job could be. My life means something to people because people mean something to me. Empathy is not just the name of my sheepdog. It is embedded in everything I am now. Something that once tore me apart is now the reason my body gets out the door every day.
I moved to a town full of possibility where connection feels inevitable and people want to contribute to something bigger than themselves. Getting myself here means giving me every opportunity possible. This did not happen because I said it would. It happened because I knew it would, because I made sure it would.
Mel Robbins once said “Move somewhere new in your twenties”. In doing so, I stretched my abilities farther than I ever thought possible. I learned to look at my past with grace and dignity.
In 2025, through therapy and inner restoration I recognized that in the darkest year of my life (2023), the year I do not talk about, I refused to become cruel. Refused to change for the worst. Refused to punish myself and others. Refused. Instead, I remained honest to who I wanted to be. I stayed compassionate. I chose to see the cruelty of others as a burden only they carry.
In 2025 I realized how far I have come because of that choice.
In 2025 I chose me.
And I will do the same in 2026.






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