2025, a year that needed a closing note

For myself first. And maybe for anyone who has been watching quietly.

Wow, 2025.You were hefty. You moved fast, yet somehow felt endless.You were generous. And you were demanding. You gave, and then you asked for more.This was the kind of change I always said I wanted.It just all arrived at once.

It was a year of overwhelm and growth living side by side. Some days holding hands. Some days fighting each other.This year taught me so much. Maybe too much..? So much of it feels blurry yet I drank the least I’ve ever drank in my life.

It started with fire.

Our second favorite city was burning, and I could not sit still in a warm, safe home pretending everything was fine. So I didn’t!  I followed the pull to do something, anything, that felt bigger than me. I dove headfirst into an event I co produced with my dear friend Luke Haverty.

And what an event it was.

600 people showed up.

122 volunteers.

Full Music lineup.

A 26 person bake sale.

Bouquet making.

A 5K run.

Thousands of dollars raised.

I still do not fully have words for how New York showed up. It reminded me that when this city decides to care, its a force.

That event cracked something open in me. I swear an internal switch flipped, and then someone taped it down so it could not turn off.

The momentum stayed all winter. Before the temperature ever hit 50 degrees, I had already done 12 more events. Birthdays. Baby showers. Brand activations. Collaborations. Grazing tables that blurred into long nights and early mornings.

It was exhausting. It was electric. It was clarifying. It was hard to be a mom. Sleep became a foreign concept. Rest felt theoretical!

Around that same time, something else quietly became real.

Campers.

What started as an internal itch, a desire to sit with food people and really TALK, turned into a five person team before I fully understood what I had said yes to. On March 22, we filmed our first episode. I walked onto that set pretending I knew what I was doing.

From the outside, it might look like confidence. Like experience. Like I had a plan.

I did not. I do not.

I studied other interviews for weeks, trying to learn the craft. And still, that first one was a beautiful raw dog. No safety net. No polish. Just presence. And somehow, that felt right.

By the third interview, I was hooked.

But here is what does not make it into a highlight reel. If you want something to be good, it asks everything of you. Time. Planning. Follow ups. Revisions. Outreach. Emotional labor. Vulnerability. Hugs. Tears. Doubt. And a lot of lessons and learning. Campers is still a baby that I’m so deeply rooting for. Time will tell what she blooms into. 

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, support found me. I didn’t look for help, but the right help arrived anyway, right when I needed it most. My team grew in a way that felt steady, intuitive, and deeply grounding. Having someone step in who could see the big picture and hold the details changed everything. It reminded me that sometimes growth doesn’t come from pushing harder, but from allowing the right people in.

Spring came. Then summer. And the idea of balance disappeared completely.

It was not a balancing act. It was a daily practice of telling myself, I am doing the best I can. In all directions…

Mars was changing fast. Growing into herself. Forming opinions. Eating. Not sleeping. Lighting up my entire life in ways I was not prepared for. Loving her felt effortless. Being away from her did not.

And when it rains, it really does pour.

I could not keep up with everything at once. I would land an event, run the event, and cry when I got home at 11 pm, exhausted and missing my child. I would get invited to the rooms I once dreamed of being in, and then procrastinate getting dressed just to steal five more minutes with Mars.

There was no balance. There were no breaks.

Then I decided to add the NYC Marathon into the mix, on top of cooking, moming, running Frank’s House, building Campers, and trying to be a good wife, friend, and daughter.

Am I okay???

The more I get to know myself, the more I realize I might be far from it. And somehow, that is okay too.

The year did not slow down. From September to December, it got heavier. Louder. Busier.

I broke in October. 

And I broke again in November.

Breaking looks different every time. One break came as tears, a fever, and skin that reflected how fried I felt inside. Another came out sideways, as a stress fueled fight with my one and only, Garry. Neither version was pretty. But both showed me something important. I do not want to live at my breaking point.

On paper, both moments made sense. In those two+  months alone, I cooked or hosted 16 events. I sat with three Campers guests. I ran the NYC marathon. Frank’s House hosted (I managed) 29 events total. My gratitude meter is off the charts, but the human part of me reads that list and says, GIRL, NO. 

So I am thanking 2025 for showing me what I am capable of. For letting me prove to myself that yes, I can do a lot, even on very little sleep, even while pushing through. But also proving that this is simply not the way. Looking toward 2026 and beyond, I want something different. I want to build a more reasonable rhythm for myself, my family, and my career. I want to get better at what I do, not just do more. I want to fine tune. I want to say no to the things that do not serve me. I want to carry less stress, and stop passing it to my gut or face or husband. 

2025, thank you.

And if you read this all the way through, thank you! This was basically a therapy session typed out. Thank you for tuning in, for caring, for being here. And if any of this feels familiar to you, let’s connect. Company helps. I’ll cook

2026, you’re about to get a whole lotta structure.

Xx

Gina