The Leadership Shift: Reflections and Resolutions for a New Year in Veterinary Medicine

January has a way of asking leaders to pause. The holiday season ends, the pace settles for a moment, and the quiet gives us space to think. Not about production numbers or schedules or the next wave of invoices, but about what it means to lead a veterinary team into a new year. 

Leadership is not a title in a hospital. It is a responsibility that shows up in how we speak to each other, how we support one another, and how we help a team grow in a profession that is both beautiful and difficult.

As a practice owner, the end of the year always brings its own kind of clarity. December shines a light on what my team has carried. January reminds me to take what I learned from them and turn it into intention for the year ahead. This is the month when I look at my habits as a leader and ask myself what I want to do differently, what I want to strengthen, and what I want to let go.

In my last blog, I talked about what I wish for my team. Now, looking towards the future, here are the reflections and intentions I am carrying for myself into the new year.

I want to lead with steadiness, not urgency.

Veterinary medicine is fast. It is tempting to match that pace in every decision, every conversation, every problem that lands at my door. But urgency is not the same as leadership. I want to respond instead of react. I want to create more moments where my team feels the ground beneath them, not the pressure behind them.

I want to focus on clarity over assumptions.

Most frustrations in a hospital develop in the space between what we meant and what others heard. Clarity is one of the most powerful tools a leader can bring. Clear expectations. Clear communication. Clear follow through. My goal is to remove doubt wherever I can, so my team has the tools to succeed instead of the burden of guessing.

I want to create room for growth, even when growth is uncomfortable.

People do not become stronger by accident. They grow when someone believes in them enough to push, support, and guide them. This year, I want to invest in developing the strengths I see in each person. Growth requires honest feedback and patience. But it is one of the greatest privileges of leadership.

I want to protect the culture my team depends on.

Hospitals run on culture as much as they run on medicine. Respect, kindness, accountability, curiosity, and compassion – these are the traits that determine whether a clinic feels safe or stressful. They shape how we treat each other on the hardest days. I want to safeguard that culture with consistency. I want to model it openly. And I want to make sure no one feels alone in maintaining it.

I want to create a workplace that reflects the grace I wish I had for myself at home.

There are days when I juggle backpacks, forgotten permission slips, and last-minute schedule changes before I even unlock the clinic door. It reminds me that life is rarely neat. My team experiences the same unpredictability. I want to lead in a way that accepts the imperfect parts of being human. I want our culture to allow room for real life, real needs, and real moments of overwhelm without judgment.

I want to hold space for the human side of veterinary medicine.

Every team member brings their own story into the building. Their own stress, family, hopes, and heartbreaks. Leadership means seeing all of that and making room for it. I want to be the kind of leader who remembers that people are not only their performance. They are human beings who deserve empathy as much as they deserve guidance.

I want to celebrate wins more intentionally.

Veterinary teams are quick to move on to the next case, the next shift, the next problem. Wins slip by without acknowledgment. This year, I want to slow that down. I want to celebrate more out loud. A well managed case. A difficult conversation handled gracefully. A small step forward for someone who has been working hard. These moments matter. They are the anchors that remind us why we do this work.

I want to honor the reality that leadership does not end when I leave the clinic.

As a vet mom, I often shift from supporting my team to supporting my family in the same hour. Both roles require patience, steadiness, and the ability to show up even when I am tired. This year, I want to bring the lessons I learn at home into the hospital. I want to remember that everyone on my team is balancing something outside these walls. Leadership is stronger when it acknowledges the whole person, not only the professional one.

I want to build a year that feels sustainable.

Not faster. Not tighter. Not heavier. Sustainable. A year where the systems support the people, not the other way around. A year where work feels meaningful, not draining. A year where we have enough structure to reduce chaos and enough flexibility to honor real life.

I want the tools we use to feel as intuitive as the work we do.

At home, I rely on systems that make the busiest parts of parenting feel smoother, and I want the same ease for my team at the clinic. Veterinary work is already complex. The tools that support it should not be. I want software that feels like second nature, something that frees mental space instead of taking it. When our systems reduce friction, my team has more energy for the moments that matter, both with patients and with the people waiting for them at home.

I want to lead with purpose, not pressure.

In the end, leadership is not about perfection. It is about direction. Veterinary teams do incredible work every day. My role is to guide, not push. Support, not smother. Encourage, not overwhelm. Purpose has a way of making even the hardest days feel worthwhile.

As we begin this new year, I am grateful for the people who choose to show up in veterinary medicine and for the privilege of leading them. Resolutions do not change a team. Leaders do. And this year, I want to lead in a way that strengthens the people around me and honors the profession we all share.

Here’s to a year marked by clarity, steadiness, and purpose. A year when veterinary teams feel supported, valued, and inspired. And a year when leadership becomes not only what we do, but how we care.