Believe.

My oldest daughter has found the transition into middle school to be challenging. One day, she asked me, “Mom, what do you think is harder—being a kid or being an adult?” I chuckled as my mind shuffled through my current adult stresses like a deck of cards. I don’t remember my exact words, but I told her that while things feel difficult right now, she will learn, grow, and adapt.

She has big dreams—of traveling, of being successful. Dreams that remind me so much of myself at her age. I remember feeling like I couldn’t grow up fast enough, ready for life to finally begin. But with growing up comes adapting, and sometimes, that childlike belief in possibilities begins to fade. It’s replaced by fears, responsibilities, and the weight of reality.

That’s a little dramatic—of course, not everything in adulthood is stressful. There are so many beautiful things we appreciate more as we grow older. Still, I can’t help but wish my daughter could hold onto that childlike belief just a little bit longer.

It’s been three years since I told her the truth about Santa. By second grade, she was already asking questions. I managed to hold her curiosity off until third grade, but one day, she cornered me in my room, demanding the truth. My heart sank, because I knew it meant a large chunk of childhood was about to crumble. That moment when a child stops believing feels like watching a little spark fade.

I sighed and told her that, yes, we’d been “playing” Santa all these years. The decorating, the presents, the magic—it was us. But then I told her something important: now, she gets to be the magic. That young kids still need to believe still, and she now has a special responsibility to help keep that magic alive for her siblings.

Her reaction surprised me. There was no disappointment—only understanding. “You guys bought us double the presents every year?” she asked, her kind heart shining through her smile. And then, as if a switch flipped, she became excited about her new role—her role in holding onto the magic for others.

That’s what I want for her—for all of my children. Even in this “real world,” I want them to believe in possibilities. To believe that, even if Santa isn’t "real' the way we thought, he is real in the sense that he is very much a real part of our lives and traditions because we made it real. I hope that they believe that it’s possible to change the world, even in small ways in the world around them. I want my kids to know that nothing is out of reach when you mix belief with a little bit of hard work.

This image titled "It's ok if you go now" I created of Santa and Mariana, in this moment represents change and transition. It’s a goodbye, yes—but it’s also a hello. Because magical things are still headed her way. She just needs to believe.

And so, my stressed out adult friends, as I write this with tear-filled eyes, my hope for you is this: that you enter the New Year with the same belief. Believe that magic still exists. Believe that beautiful things are coming your way.

You have the ability to shape your life into what you dream it to be. So today, toss aside a little of that adult practicality. Believe that magic is real, and then go get it.