There’s always a bit of relief when the email lands.

You are a Sitecore MVP 2026

No fanfare. No build-up. Just a subject line you pause over for a moment longer than you’d like to admit. Even after going through it before, there’s still that flicker of doubt. The bar shifts every year, and you feel that.

This year, I was fortunate to be named a Sitecore MVP for the fourth time.

I’m proud of that.

I don’t take it lightly. But more than anything, it’s a reminder that the recognition only ever follows the work. Never the other way around.

MVP Is Not a Side Effect

One of the most common misunderstandings about the Sitecore MVP program is that it’s something that happens naturally if you’re active enough.

It doesn’t.

It isn’t tied to seniority, job titles, or the size of the projects you work on. Every year there are capable, committed people who contribute, get nominated, and still don’t make it.

That isn’t a flaw in the system, no way. It’s a reflection of how high the bar is.

The program recognises deliberate, sustained contribution.

Not visibility.

Not proximity.

Contribution.

And sometimes you can do everything right and still miss out in a given year. That doesn’t invalidate the effort. If anything, it reinforces how meaningful the recognition actually is.

What MVPs Actually Do All Year

When people ask what makes the difference, the answer is rarely dramatic. It’s usually quiet, consistent, and often invisible.

Across the year, it tends to look like:

  • Writing things down so the next person doesn’t have to rediscover them
  • Sharing lessons from projects, especially the ones that didn’t go to plan
  • Answering questions without expecting recognition in return
  • Helping someone shape a talk, a blog post, or an idea
  • Showing up in community spaces when there’s no obvious benefit

None of this needs to be loud. None of it needs to happen on a schedule. But it does need to be sustained.

Posting occasionally isn’t the same as contributing steadily.

Being active around nomination time isn’t the same as being present all year.

Volume isn’t the same as impact.

Those aren’t rules. They’re just patterns you start to notice over time.

Consistency Beats Bursts of Activity

Anyone can sprint for a while.

The MVP program quietly rewards the people who keep going long after the spotlight has moved on. The ones who continue to share when it’s inconvenient. The ones who contribute even when there’s nothing immediate to gain.

That consistency is difficult to maintain. It should be.

It’s also why being recognised more than once never feels guaranteed. You start again each cycle, whether you’ve been here before or not.

It’s About Giving, Not Knowing

The MVP badge has never really been about who knows the most.

Some of the most impactful people in this community aren’t the loudest voices or the most visible profiles. They’re the ones answering messages late at night, reviewing slides, encouraging first-time contributors, and helping others succeed without needing credit.

That’s the culture behind the program. And it’s why it continues to matter.

Why This Program Stands Apart

There are plenty of “MVP-style” programs now. Some lean heavily on marketing. Some reward visibility. Some focus more on loyalty than contribution.

Sitecore’s feels and is different.

It asks for consistency. It values openness. It recognises people who help grow the community, not just their own profile. And it doesn’t promise repeat recognition, no matter how long you’ve been part of it.

That’s what gives it credibility.

Final Thought

I’m genuinely glad to be part of this community. The people, the conversations, the willingness to share and help each other improve.

Four times in, it still doesn’t feel routine. It feels earned.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you have to want the work before you want the recognition. The work is really the point.

That’s why the program matters. And why, for me, Sitecore has built one of the strongest MVP communities anywhere. Not because it’s easy to enter, but because it isn’t.

I’m proud to be part of it.

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