How 2025 Was for Me
2025 was not the kind of year anyone would voluntarily choose. It was messy, loud, and uncomfortably honest. If I had to sum it up in a few words—stressful, anxious, disappointing, and eye-opening—I wouldn’t be exaggerating. This year didn’t just test me; it stripped away illusions I held about myself, my goals, my health, and the people I trusted.
Stress became a daily companion. It wasn’t the kind that shows up during exams and leaves after results. It was the heavy, persistent kind that sits in your chest even when nothing is happening. I kept pushing myself—academically, mentally, emotionally—hoping that maybe effort alone would carry me through. But 2025 made it clear that life doesn’t always reward effort. Sometimes, you work hard and still fall short. And yes, I had moments of failure that hit harder than expected. Not because I lacked capability, but because I expected more from myself. I had to face the uncomfortable truth that expectations don’t automatically convert to outcomes.
Anxiety was another character in my story this year. It showed up at odd times—when I woke up, when I tried to sleep, even in the middle of completely normal days. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was exhausting. It made simple tasks feel heavy. It also made me hyper-aware of my health, pushing me into a cycle where worrying about my body became a job in itself.
Health wasn’t kind to me either. Small issues grew into big distractions. Pain, stiffness, fatigue—everything demanded attention. I spent time trying to fix things, manage things, understand things. Appointments, supplements, routines, and constant adjustments became part of the year. The body has its own timing, and 2025 reminded me of that ruthlessly.
Then there were friendships—if you can call them that. I entered the year believing people around me would support me or at least understand me. Instead, I learned that some friendships exist only as long as you’re convenient, useful, or entertaining. When I needed support, many of those “friends” disappeared. Some stayed physically present but emotionally checked out. It took time to accept that not everyone is meant to stand with you, especially when life gets messy. It’s painful, but it’s also freeing. You learn to value your own company more than half-hearted connections.
But here’s the thing: despite everything, 2025 forced growth. Real growth—not the motivational-poster type. The kind where you learn what drains you, what scares you, what limits you, and what you truly need. I became more aware of my boundaries, my resilience, my priorities. I stopped expecting people to show up, and started learning how to show up for myself. I stopped glorifying hustle, and started listening to my mind and body. I stopped pretending everything was fine, and started giving myself permission to feel and reset.
2025 wasn’t a good year. But it was a truthful one. And sometimes, the hardest years end up being the ones that reshape you the most.
