This is it – the last day of 2025. What a year it’s been! Honestly, this year has gone so quickly, and yet it also feels like it’s been far longer than just a year. All I can say is, I’m really glad I survived 2025. And not just survived but given what I’ve had to go through this year, I think by anyone’s standards, I’ve crushed it.

I was initially dreading writing this post. As I looked back on my year, all I could see was me in survival mode, hanging on in between each breakdown. It wasn’t exactly inspiring or hope-bringing stuff. And if I’m being really honest, I think I was also feeling a little let down.

Last year’s reflections made me realise that I might have been jinxing myself for the past few years. I’d always end each year saying that it made me strong, but the next year would make me happy – except the next year would just laugh and break me down even more. So, for 2025 I thought I’d do things differently.

Instead of declaring my hopes for the year, I decided to focus on what I could bring into 2025: my continued faith in God, a determination to focus on what truly matters, a willingness to make the right changes, and a desire to choose joy in every season. And although I’ve never previously subscribed to “word for the year’s” or strategic goal breakdowns for the year, I decided to give it a go this year.

Ironically, I ended up wrestling with my word for the year: restoration. I had some (admittedly silly) personal reasons for not liking that word, but in the end, I decided to trust God with the word He had given me for 2025. It still wasn’t easy though.

As I rode the rollercoaster of 2025, I’d go through moments where I thought I could just see a glimpse of what restoration might look like, only to plummet into fog again. And as the year went on, bringing with it more change, hurt, and problems, I really struggled to see how restoration could happen for me. In fact, I ended up writing a poem about this wrestle in my new book ‘From One Heart To Another’.

So, as we drew closer to the end of the year, I had begun to accept that maybe restoration wasn’t what I thought it was, that I’d failed, or maybe even that I’d gotten my word wrong. Now, I don’t know about you, but I tend to get a lot of revelations in the shower or when I’m driving, and yesterday, as I was driving home from the coast, it all came to me:

Restoration is a process.

A process, not a quick fix. A process that requires deep, lengthy work to renew, repair, or return something damaged to its original condition, or to a good or healthy state. And considering the amount of “damage” I had, I realised that my restoration would take a lot more than just a single year to complete. 2025 wasn’t the year I would be restored; it was the year my restoration would begin.

And once I realised that, my reflections of 2025 came up in a completely different light. Instead of seeing myself just surviving and barely hanging on, I saw all the things I did to survive and all the things I did whilst (and despite) surviving.

In 2025, I:

1. Not only juggled multiple roles at my podiatry job, but I led my team through heaps of unexpected changes, advocated for them, and piloted a much-needed project as part of the solution.

2. Advocated for my neurodivergent son across different environments and challenges, got him the assessments and therapy that he needed to do life, and started to relearn and reparent not just my kids, but myself as well.

3. Let go of my 5-year cake business to start this blog and new writing venture, which at that time, I had no clue what it would look like, what direction I would take it, or what the ultimate destination was going to be.

4. Learnt to stop sacrificing myself and my mental health just to keep the peace or to keep others happy, family included. I started setting boundaries and rejecting unfair expectations or enabling behaviour, and I’m learning to stop seeking approval from others or basing my self-worth based on what people think of me.

5. Achieved my childhood dream of becoming a published author and worked with some beautiful people with their own inspiring stories along the way.

6. Kept going, didn’t give up, and made it through our first year without our precious Dorian.

7. Grew in my faith, obedience, trust, and patience with God.

So, as we usher in 2026, I’d like to leave you with this:

You’re going to see a lot of people posting about the amazing things they’ve done in 2025. You’ll hear stories of success, of overcoming, of dreams being achieved despite less than ideal circumstances. And yes, I am very much aware that I’m one of those people who have done that. But this blog post is not to rub it in your face or make you feel like you could have or should have done better.

This blog post is to help you realise that even if all you did in 2025 was survive, that itself IS a story of success and overcoming. THAT is the amazing thing you have done for 2025. Because I sure as heck know that it’s far easier to let yourself sink than to keep fighting the waves to stay afloat.

But more than that, this blog post is also to remind you to look within your year of survival and realise that you would actually have heaps of little acts and achievements that have all come together to lead to your survival of 2025. Celebrate these – they might be little acts, but they’re all BIG wins. Your survival is part of your restoration.

And finally, just in case nobody has said it to you, I want to tell you that I’m so proud of you. Life has been crazy these last few years, and not in a good way! But we’re still here and we’re still fighting, and most importantly, we’re still hoping that things will get better. So, bring on the new year! 2026 had better watch out because I know we’ll give it everything we’ve got.

Happy New Year, my dear readers, and I pray that whatever 2026 may bring, that one year from today, you can look back and say that you’ve been blessed ❤️