December: The Softness I’m Learning to Hold (and the Change I’m Welcoming In)
A slow December letter on softness, change, and the quiet joy of coming home to yourself.
It’s late afternoon and I’m back at my kitchen bench with a cup of tea, the kind I make when the year feels a little heavy and I need something warm to steady me. Basil’s curled up in his usual spot, and the whole house smells like ginger and caramel from a new recipe I’m working on for Buderim Ginger… you’ll get that one soon.
December has always been… complicated for me. I’ve written about it before, the rush, the pressure, the strange mix of joy and longing that somehow sit side by side. But this year feels different. Not lighter, exactly… just softer.
Maybe it’s getting older. Maybe it’s grief reshaping itself into something I can finally hold without breaking. Maybe it’s the way travel cracked me open this year and showed me how to see life with gentler eyes. Or maybe I’m simply paying attention to what my body has been whispering for years: slow down, be here, let it be enough.
And woven into all of that… is change.
Some people fear change. They cling to what feels familiar, safe, predictable. But I’ve realised I’m the opposite. I thrive in the thrill of reinvention, of trying something new, of stepping into the unknown with curiosity instead of fear.
If you’ve been here for a while, you’ve seen it, the way my content has shifted, stretched, grown with me. You’ve watched me share more of my heart, my stories, my lessons. Somewhere along the way, vulnerability stopped feeling scary and started feeling like home. And that’s because of you, this community. I genuinely feel like I’ve found my people here.
Which is why it feels right to tell you this first: change is coming again.
A big one.
Over the last few years, I’ve quietly fallen in love with something I never expected… community. Not just gathering people around food or travel, but supporting women in business. Helping them dream bigger, back themselves, build the kind of lives and brands that feel aligned and expansive.
It’s been a whisper in me for a long time. A dream I kept tucked away until I felt brave enough to bring it into the light.
And 2026 is the year I take a big, very real, very damn exciting leap into it.
I won’t say too much yet, but just know this: everything I’ve been building… the retreats, the consulting, the lessons, the storytelling, is leading somewhere. Somewhere I’m so ready for. Somewhere that feels like the most “me” thing I’ve ever done.
There’s so much more to come, and I can’t wait to bring you along for all of it.
So as the year winds down, I’m leaning into softness, slowness, honesty… and a whole lot of change. The grounded kind. The expansive kind.
A few of my favourite things this month
A small handful of things that have been bringing me joy lately, the simple, grounding, very human kind.
Recipe of the Month
This month’s two standouts?
– Oven Baked Chicken Gyros – honestly, I outdid myself with this one (in a humble way). This is one of the best meal prep hacks I’ve done and so delicious!
– Fancy Chippies– event season is upon us, and what do you do when you need a last minute dish to take to someone’s house?… you make fancy chippies.
Eat Like a Local
Can you believe this little series is two years old now? What started as a fun way to share my favourite hidden food spots has become one of my most loved parts of my content.
And this month, I have to tell you about Marlowe in Fish Lane.
When I dine somewhere for Eat Like a Local, I’m always paying attention to three things: the fit-out and vibe, the service, and the food.
And it’s rare, very rare, that all three are impeccable… but Marlowe absolutely was.
Housed inside the restored Merivale Flats from 1938, the space is stunning. Warm, intimate, layered with charm, and so thoughtfully considered. It’s one of those rooms that instantly slows you down, soft lighting, beautiful textures, a sense that someone obsessed over every detail in the best possible way.
The service matched the space: attentive without hovering, genuinely warm, and that old-school hospitality that makes you feel like you’re being hosted, not just served.
And the food… unbelievable. Confident, delicious, beautifully executed. The kind of meal that stays with you long after you’ve left.
An easy favourite, and one I’d recommend in a heartbeat.
Things I’m Loving
What I’m Doing Over the Christmas Break
(to Rest, Reflect & Reset)
Not a list of things to buy… but a list of things I’m actually doing.
After the chaos of Black Friday emails and the pressure to consume, I’ve found myself craving the opposite… space, simplicity, and time to come back to myself.
Here’s what my Christmas break is really going to look like:
– Cleaning out my storage room
A big, cathartic reset. Clearing the clutter, making space, creating some order before the new year begins. It already feels like a breath out.
– Setting up my new tuckerbox freezer
My meal prep era is officially coming. I’m embarrassingly excited about this. It’s giving “future Jacqui is going to thank me.”
– Planning a meal prep system I’ll actually love
Not boring, not repetitive, meals I genuinely look forward to eating. Fresh, flavourful, nourishing. A rhythm that makes my week easier, not heavier.
– Spending intentional time on my own
Quiet mornings. Long walks. Moments where I can hear myself think again. Solitude has become a kind of medicine for me.
– Reading a new book
I want to lose myself in a story again, something that doesn’t require a highlight pen or a strategy hat.
– Moving my body gently and intentionally
Strength training, slow walks, stretching… movement that feels like care, not punishment.
– Cooking purely for the love of cooking
Not for content. Not for a deadline. Just for joy. The house smelling like butter, ginger, herbs, caramelising onions, the kind of cooking that feels like coming home to myself.
These are the things helping me rest, reflect, and reset before stepping into everything 2026 has waiting.