I started 2025 exactly how you’re supposed to.
Full of energy.
Motivated.
Hopeful.
After more than two years of a difficult housing market, I truly believed this would be the year real estate turned a corner. I was excited about my business goals, confident in the team behind me, and ready to build momentum again.
And yet, there was something lingering in the air that I couldn’t quite name.
I ignored it.
Not because it wasn’t there, but because optimism has a way of convincing you that if you just move forward with enough clarity and good intention, things will fall into place.
Sometimes they do.
Sometimes they don’t.
For me, 2025 became a year of constant curveballs. Plans shifted. Expectations changed. The year I thought I was building turned into the year that quietly asked me to rebuild instead.
And honestly, that’s exactly what I needed.
Early in the year, I knew a shift was coming in my business. I prayed about it. I wrestled with it. And eventually, I accepted it. We needed growth—but not the kind measured by door count or new clients. We needed a deeper kind of growth. Identity growth. The kind where a business sheds an old version of itself to make room for what’s next.
Most of my year was spent trying to understand what my business needed, even when that didn’t align with what I personally wanted for it at the time. That distinction matters more than most people realize—especially in property management, where ego, expectations, and emotions collide daily.
But the biggest lessons 2025 taught me weren’t operational.
They were human.
I’ve been studying human behavior since I graduated high school. That path led me to a psychology degree, a master’s in counseling, and eventually into education, where I taught 6th grade math. It was a short stint—but a memorable one.
Real estate came next, almost accidentally. And property management? That found me. I didn’t go looking for it.
Since 2018, my company has offered real estate services. In 2020, we added property management. And if you want a front-row seat to human nature, this is it. You will see the best of people. And the worst.
With enough education behind me and enough real-world experience, a few truths about human nature in this industry became impossible to ignore.
For a long time, I believed that if I hired someone, they would do what was asked—every time. That if I placed a resident, they would follow the rules. That if I said yes to a client, they would trust our recommendations.
That belief was my first major mistake.
You cannot control people.
People will be people. They will do what they want, when they want, based on their own priorities, emotions, and perceptions. The sooner you accept this, the less personal everything becomes.
I learned this lesson long before property management, back when I was a 6th grade teacher. I walked into that classroom thinking I’d automatically have respect. I pictured myself as Ms. Honey from Matilda—adored, trusted, listened to.
That was not my reality.
There was chaos. A lack of parental support. Students acting out. One student even told me, “If I wanted to get you in trouble, all I have to do is tell someone you touched me.”
That was it for me.
I wasn’t willing to stay in a system where I had no control, no protection, and no support—especially for the pay.
Years later, I see the parallel clearly. Adults aren’t that different from kids. Different stakes. Same dynamics.
The key isn’t controlling people. It’s aligning with the right ones.
When you understand your values deeply, it becomes easier to intentionally surround yourself with people who share them. This applies to team members, residents, owners, clients—and yes, your personal life too.
Once I found people who truly respected me and aligned with my values, it became much easier to recognize the ones who didn’t. Some of those people were once very close to me. That part hurts, but it’s also clarifying.
It’s okay to realize that someone you invested heavily in is no longer growing in the same direction you are. You don’t owe an explanation for choosing peace, alignment, and forward momentum. This year taught me that letting go doesn’t require drama—just clarity.
Another lesson 2025 reinforced is that compassion builds trust, but only when it’s paired with emotional discipline.
This year, I faced residents who could no longer pay rent. Owners who became hostile when mistakes were made. Team members who chose to move on. And I’ll be honest—my first reaction wasn’t always the best one.
That’s human.
But what I’ve learned is this: do not respond when you’re emotionally charged. Not to emails. Not to conflict. Not to disappointment.
Sometimes the most powerful response is simply, “Thank you for telling me. I need some time to think through this and I’ll get back to you.”
That pause prevents you from matching someone else’s emotional intensity. Some people need empathy. Some need logic. Some need structure and process. Not every situation requires oversharing or overexplaining. Sometimes it’s just, “Here’s how I see it.” Or, “Here’s the process.” Or, “Here’s the next step.”
One of the most impactful concepts I encountered this year came from the book Let Them. The idea is simple: people are going to do what they’re going to do—so let them. And instead, focus on let me.
When someone no longer wants your services, let them go. If feedback helps you improve, take it. But arguing about perceptions rarely produces growth.
In property management especially, you will upset people. The more doors you manage and the more decisions you make, the more likely that becomes. That’s not failure. That’s scale.
Not everyone will have the emotional intelligence or the context to understand your decisions. That’s okay. Learn what you can, then move forward. Don’t dwell.
Human nature is complicated. It’s emotional. Illogical at times. Hurtful. But it’s also inspiring, meaningful, and full of growth—if you’re willing to observe instead of react.
2025 stretched me personally and professionally in ways I didn’t anticipate. As I move into 2026, my theme is focus. Fewer things, done better. More no’s than yeses. More refinement. More intention.
Understanding human nature at its core is the difference between surviving this work and being able to carry it. It builds emotional intelligence—the highest form of intelligence—because it teaches you how to hold complexity without breaking. How to be compassionate without compromising yourself. How to lead with strength instead of reaction.
You don’t need to change your personality. You need to change how you interpret and respond to other people’s decisions.
That’s the unlock.
That’s when things stop feeling so heavy.
That’s when growth feels intentional instead of exhausting.
Here’s to a new year.
A clearer focus.
And a deeper, wiser version of yourself. 🥂
