So I Run Like the Wild Horses

There are phases in life where stillness feels like self betrayal. Where staying put, over explaining, or waiting for the right moment feels heavier than the risk of moving. This is one of those phases.

As 2026 begins, the year of the horse (yayyy!!), it feels impossible not to notice how much this moment is asking for motion. Not frantic change, not reinvention for the sake of spectacle, but a return to instinct. Forward movement led by something internal, not external validation.

I’ve been thinking about wild horses, not as a metaphor polished for instagram, but as they truly are. They don’t negotiate with hesitation. They don’t wait for permission. They move because something inside them says now. And that instinct is enough.

There’s a quiet power in that kind of motion. Not rushed. Not loud. Just deeply certain.

We’re taught, subtly, to distrust that feeling. To slow it down. To translate it into something more acceptable: plans, explanations, timelines. But instinct doesn’t speak in structure. It speaks in momentum.

So I’m letting myself move again: toward places, ideas, and versions of myself that feel expansive. Not because everything is mapped out, but because standing still no longer feels honest. This new era isn’t about proving anything. It’s about alignment.

The year of the horse is said to favor independence, courage, and forward motion. And whether or not you believe in symbolism, it’s hard to ignore how right it feels. A year for trusting your legs. Your pace. Your direction.

This isn’t about running away. It’s about running toward. Toward freedom that doesn’t need announcing. Toward a life that feels lived from the inside out.

So I run like the wild horses, into 2026, unbridled.

Not chasing. Not fleeing.

Just moving, because that’s where I feel most myself.