I was all set to create a maximized list of 45 things I learned in 2025, but I it became a frivolous endeavour. What I do know is this: 2025 was a good year. A long year. A short year. And somehow, all of that at once.
And now we’re less than three hours away from 2026, so here goes…
The first lesson I learned is as simple as it is fucking uncomfortable: take the damn picture.
I travelled a lot this year. And even now, in this body, at this age, I still hesitate to capture myself because I’m not always happy with how I look. What surprised me is that I saw photos of myself this year that I genuinely loved—and others that made me deeply sad. Both were real. Both mattered.
The ever-lingering truth is that the change i want for myself will only come if I’m willing to make it.
But even while I’m changing, the memories still deserve to be preserved.
So I’m taking the photo. Every time.
Another truth that landed hard this year: it’s never too late.
Not for anything. Not for the thing I think I missed. Not for the version of myself I delayed becoming. As long as I have breath in my lungs and God wakes me up, it is not too late. It only becomes too late when you’re dead. Until then, movement is always possible.
Discipline and consistency are best friends. They don’t work without each other.
When I do things the way I know I’m supposed to, I am nearly unstoppable. When I don’t, I block my own momentum. Most of my work now is simply getting out of my own way.
This year also gave me a quiet revelation: I’m actually a happy person.
I’m realistic. Sometimes pessimistic. Definitely sarcastic. But underneath all of that, I’m joyful. That matters more than I realized.
My friends are cool—even the toxic ones.
They’re toxic to a point. They’re human. I did a lot of letting people be who they are this year, without trying to fix or edit them. That release brought peace.
2025 demanded soul-searching.
It forced decisions.
It required me to stop thinking like a worker and start thinking like a strategist.
I began building the core framework for the life I want moving forward—not just professionally, but personally, spiritually, physically.
Here’s the tension I now live with:
It’s never too late—but time is not unlimited.
Some things require urgency. And one of them is my health.
My coil expired, and I do not want to replace it. If that’s going to be my reality, then 2026 is non-negotiable. I have to lose the weight. No bargaining. No excuses. No pretending I’ll circle back later.
I can’t keep dancing around this.
I have to show up as the best version of myself every single day—not for aesthetics, but for health, longevity, and the future I say I want.
The last 11 years happened. Life happened. There’s no rewriting that.
There’s also no “making up for lost time.”
There is only now, and now requires discipline.
I learned that I love travelling—even when it exhausts me.
I learned that I miss my flexibility and mobility—and that I can get them back.
I learned that the bed frame matters more than I expected.
I learned my hair is thriving, and I need to treat it like the crown it is.
Most importantly, I learned that self-care is not optional.
It’s not a reward. It’s a requirement.
And one last thing:
I want to make travelling for Christmas an annual tradition.
That’s not a luxury—that’s a life choice.
It’s been real 2025. Thanks for the memories.
Cheersto 2026!
—
Song: Hold On Loosley
Artist: 38 Special
Album: Wild-Eyed Southern Boys
Release Date: 1981
