Today Is 30 December. Let’s Be Honest About 2025.

Today is 30 December.

Not a symbolic date. Not a motivational one. Just the final working day of the year.

The emails have slowed. The meetings have stopped. The noise has faded enough for the thoughts you have been postponing to finally surface. This is usually the moment when people stop pretending they are fine and quietly admit how this year has really felt.

This time last year, I went into 2025 genuinely believing it was going to be a fantastic year.

I had plans.

I had momentum.

I had that quiet confidence that comes from thinking the hardest part is behind you.

Two months into the year, I was made redundant.

I remember waking up the morning after it happened feeling completely winded. Not dramatic. Just flat. That strange mix of disbelief and fear that arrives when something you did not plan for suddenly changes everything. The questions started immediately.

What now.

How long will this take to fix.

Have I left it too late to start again.

What does this mean for my future.

I know many of you will recognise that feeling. The kind of tiredness that shows up before the day even starts. When your mind is already running through finances, responsibility, direction, reputation. When you feel pressure to stay composed while everything underneath feels uncertain.

For a while, I tried to stay logical. I told myself it would be fine. That I would work it out. That I had experience. That I would land on my feet.

What I did not admit straight away was how uncomfortable it felt to suddenly not know the shape of my future.

What came next was not bravery in the way people like to talk about it. It was not confidence. It was not certainty. It was a quieter decision made while feeling unsettled and unsure. I took a chance on myself not because I felt fearless, but because I knew I had something solid underneath me. Years of practical experience. Skills that had been tested. Knowledge earned through real work, real pressure, and real responsibility. I trusted that even if I did not know exactly how things would unfold, I knew how to help people, how to solve problems, and how to build something meaningful. That belief became my anchor. I chose to use the discomfort as momentum rather than fear, and I moved forward one step at a time.

From there, I started again.

I built a consultancy business from the ground up. Not overnight. Not perfectly. Slowly and thoughtfully. I launched a podcast, not because I had a perfect plan, but because I had something to say and I wanted to say it honestly. I invested in my own personal and professional development, continuing with meditation and yoga, not as luxuries, but as anchors that kept me steady when my nervous system was stretched.

There were mornings I woke up already tired. Mornings where I questioned whether I was doing the right thing. Mornings where the fear crept in quietly and asked whether I was being unrealistic or irresponsible.

If you wake up like that sometimes, worrying about your business, your career, or the direction your life is taking, I want you to know this. That feeling does not mean you are failing. It usually means you are in transition.

Looking back now, I can see that 2025 was never meant to be easy. It was meant to be transformational.

I am deeply thankful for the clients who trusted me this year. Thankful for the work that allowed me to build something aligned and sustainable. Thankful for the messages, the conversations, the support, and for everyone who listens to the podcast, reads what I write, shares it, or quietly takes something from it. That support matters more than you might realise.

I am also thankful for choosing to keep investing in myself, even when it would have been easier to stay in survival mode. Those small daily practices mattered. They helped me think clearly. They helped me stay grounded. They reminded me that success without wellbeing is never worth the cost.

There is a lot of talk right now about the Year of the Snake being over. I do not believe that.

The snake does not rush its shedding. It sheds layer by layer. Uncomfortably. Purposefully. There are still two months left of this cycle, and that matters. Some of you are still shedding identities that no longer fit. Still letting go of ways of working that once kept you safe but now keep you stuck. Still uncomfortable, not because you are doing something wrong, but because growth is rarely tidy.

That discomfort does not mean the year has failed you. It means it is finishing its work.

The Year of the Horse will come. The forward movement. The clarity. The momentum. The galloping ahead. It will land more powerfully if you allow this final shedding to complete.

So if you are ending this year feeling tired, reflective, proud, uncertain, hopeful, or all of it at once, you are not alone.

This year changed plans.

It forced decisions.

It required courage you did not expect to need.

And yet, here you are.

Still standing.

Still building.

Still questioning.

Still becoming.

As we move into the final days of 2025, my hope for you is simple. That you stop rushing yourself. That you trust what this year has taught you. That you recognise how capable you are, even when the path changes.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading, listening, supporting, and walking this journey with me.

There is more ahead.

The shedding is nearly done.

Warmly,