At the beginning of the year, like most of us, I had plans. Intentions. A quiet belief that if I stayed focused enough and did the right things, I would arrive somewhere clear and defined.
But as I look back now, I can see that my soul had a very different itinerary.
This was not a year of checking boxes.
It was a year of breaking them open.
From the quiet whispers of intuition in January to the full-body stop signals that arrived by December, 2025 asked me to dismantle who I thought I had to be so I could finally meet who I actually am.
The Unraveling of Old Stories
We started the year talking about coping.
Coping with workplace trauma.
Coping with burnout.
Coping with the exhaustion of trying to fit into spaces that were never designed for our full selves.
By spring, it became clear that coping was no longer enough.
What was being asked of me was alchemy.
In early summer, I wrote about how magic is not woo. It is wisdom. About how blending intuition with strategy is not a weakness but a necessity if you want to build a life that does not drain you. Around that time, I reconnected with a long-forgotten part of myself, the playful, light-bringer energy I once hid away to be taken seriously in corporate spaces.
That reconnection mattered more than I realized at the time.
The Courage to Be Seen
Summer brought honesty.
I shared what it was like to lead in data and analytics without being the most technical person in the room, and how imposter syndrome, instead of destroying me, became a teacher. It forced me to lead with humility, curiosity, and intuition rather than ego or performance.
We talked about the shadow side of leadership. About grief surfacing unexpectedly. About those late-night moments when truth arrives quietly and asks to be acknowledged.
I learned that perfectionism is not protection.
It is a cage.
And the only way out is the imperfect step taken before you feel ready.
The Great Rearrangement
Then came the fall, and life stopped whispering.
A health scare that required a biopsy.
The uncertainty of being on the bench at work.
The sting of being told not to play the age card.
Each moment stripped away another layer of armor I did not realize I was still wearing.
I had to stop pushing.
I had to stop forcing clarity.
I had to learn the hardest lesson of 2025.
The pause.
In October and November, something unexpected emerged. I began to see that systems can be sacred. That structure does not have to be rigid or punishing. It can be a container that supports flow, rest, and creativity.
I also realized something else.
Faith works a lot like data.
It is not blind belief.
It is an accumulation of evidence.
Small moments that prove, over time, that we are held, guided, and supported, even when the outcome is unclear.
Where I Am Now
As the year closes, I find myself reflecting deeply on faith, forgiveness, and gratitude.
But unlike the beginning of the year, I am no longer fighting the current.
I am trusting it.
This year did not ask me to become more.
It asked me to become more honest.
What I’m Carrying Forward
As I step into 2026, these are the truths I am holding close:
A pause is not a failure. It is a reset that allows your brilliance to breathe.
Your body is the barometer. If it is not a clear yes in the gut, it is a no or a not now.
You do not have to push. The yes that changes your life often arrives quietly when you stop forcing the answer.
If 2025 rearranged your life too, know this.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are being reoriented.
And sometimes, that is the most sacred work of all.