Reflections On 2025
I always cringe a little at this time of year — particularly when the reels start rolling in with end‑of‑year resets, achievement lists for 2025, and neatly packaged goals for the year ahead. Not because they’re wrong, but because they now feel like an expectation. Something you must do to fit in.
While I’ve always been big on reflection — on myself, my choices, my goals — it’s something I do all year long, not just when the clock ticks over to January 1.
So my reflections on 2025 aren’t about a dramatic transformation or a tough year survived. For me, 2025 was a year of accepting myself a little more as I am.
Listening to my body (finally)
I started 2025 in a way I didn’t expect. I woke up on New Year’s Day unable to stand straight, with sharp pain shooting through my lower back. After testing and appointments, I was diagnosed in January with arthritis of the spine.
It was confronting. Not dramatic — but a wakeup call when it comes to healthy body and mind.
I began fortnightly exercise physiology soon after. It was uncomfortable, painful, and time consuming to do all 14 exercises each day, but it was worth it. Slowly, standing upright became possible again. Slowly, the pain faded. More than anything, I learned that progress doesn’t always look impressive — sometimes it just looks like being able to stand without thinking about it.
Strength, movement, and quiet wins
I set goals this year — and yes, I met many of them.
I read 66 books, surpassing my original goal of 52. I lost over four kilos as part of my journey back to fitness. After a few years of letting my strength slide, I began pushing myself again.
I did the Spit Bridge to Manly walk with friends. We got up for sunrise to walk the Bathers Way in Newcastle. I climbed the unforgiving stairs and ladders of the Sublime Point walking track. I hiked Mount Kinabalu in Malaysia, a hill I wasn’t sure I could finish. I climbed Tiger’s Nest in Bhutan, which really isn’t as difficult as it looks.
None of this was about proving anything. It was about trusting my body again — and understanding what it could still do, and where I was at.
I saw a naturopath for ongoing bloating and, once again, quit gluten. I committed to a three-day juice cleanse — not as a fix, but as a pause. A small reset within the year, I might even do it again this year.
Travel that met me where I was
Travel played its familiar role this year — but in a way that felt deeply aligned.
I travelled to Borneo, saw an incredible amount of wildlife, and did the memorable trek up Mt Kinabalu. I went to a quieter, less touristy part of Indonesia with my best friend for a week. I joined a G Adventures tour through Bhutan and Nepal, trekked up to Tiger’s Nest, and patted myself on the back for a genuine effort. Seeing the Himalayas was something else entirely. Pure spectacular. Almost unreal in their scale and stillness.
Along the way, I met people from around the world who felt intentional — people I was meant to meet.
Those trips quietly planted something in me. I came home with a plan and motivation — to finally publish some books next year, to run a 5km race, to make peace with work hours, to stop people‑pleasing, and to find a way to make work work for me instead of against me.
We also took smaller weekend getaways to Lithgow, North Sydney, Sydney, Katoomba, Kanahooka, Camperdown, Narrawallee, Tocomor, Newcastle, and Yarrawonga — reminders that restoration doesn’t always require distance.
Home life and heart moments
Home felt steady this year — not in a stagnant way, but in a quietly settled one. We got to enjoy all our hard work and efforts from 2024.
We didn’t do much to the house because, in many ways, most of it is done. Artwork was framed and hung. A new bookshelf found its place. New lamps, curtains and blinds softened the space and helped keep the heat and coolness out. Outdoor seating was refreshed. A built-in wardrobe was completed in the boys’ room. Some trees came out, making room to spruce up the gardens finally.
There were also the less glamorous but necessary jobs: a dishwasher replaced after a leak, upstairs decking completed, and fence panelling repaired on the back gate. None of it exciting, but still forward movement.
This year, I became a godmother for the third time — something I never take lightly and always feel deeply honoured by.
We also opened our home to four Japanese exchange students: two 16‑year‑old girls for seven days, and two 17‑year‑old boys for four. It was chaotic, generous, exhausting and grounding all at once — a reminder of how much joy exists in our home and our lives, and how special it is to share that with others.
Nieces slept over for a night. We hosted my boyfriend’s family for their annual gathering. Ordinary moments, quietly meaningful.
Creativity, slowly and imperfectly
I blogged — not consistently, not strategically — but honestly, here and there.
More importantly, I started writing.
Not for metrics. Not for deadlines. Just because something in me finally felt ready to come out.
The tension I’m still holding
If I’m honest, I still have an unhealthy attachment to progress and numbers.
I notice it when I say:
I read 66 books.
I’ve travelled to 95 countries.
One of my photos reached 25 million downloads on Pexels.
My blog hits around 3K views most months.
I’m aware of how quickly I measure myself — even in reflection.
But awareness is part of the work. And this year, I noticed it more gently than before.
What 2025 gave me
2025 didn’t demand reinvention. It asked for acceptance.
Acceptance of my body as it changes. Acceptance of my pace. Acceptance that growth doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful.
I’m not chasing a reset. I’m carrying forward what worked, loosening my grip on what didn’t, and trusting that clarity comes from staying present — not from setting perfect goals on January 1.
And for now, that feels like enough.
