Hello 2025, Nice To Meet You

Don’t count the days; make the days count.

As I step into 2025, I feel the weight of 2024 behind me, less like a burden and more like the imprint of a journey that’s changed me. The year wasn’t kind, but it was honest, relentless in its demands, and strangely generous in its lessons. If 2024 were a storm, it wasn’t just the kind that passes, it was the kind that reshapes the landscape, leaving behind a different terrain, unfamiliar but somehow right.

There’s something about facing a year like that. It strips away illusions. You can’t outrun your own accountability. Whatever happened, every stumble, every triumph, it carries your signature. Blame, I’ve learned, is just procrastination in disguise. And procrastination is a thief, stealing the clarity that comes from admitting, This was mine to carry. This is mine to fix.

I think back to decisions I delayed, thinking I was being careful, patient, strategic. I was neither. What I was doing was avoiding the truth. By the time I finally acted, the damages were done, not irreparable, but harder, messier, heavier. Life’s toughest choices don’t knock, they kick the door in. They don’t wait for your readiness; they demand your courage here and now.

And yet, courage isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s quiet, even invisible. Like learning to let go of the people and things that weigh you down. We’ve all been there: a snide comment that lingers, an act of betrayal that festers. I carried those, too, until I realised something: the space I gave to those grudges was space I could never give to growth, to joy. Mandela called resentment a poison you drink, hoping it will kill your enemies. I stopped drinking it. I now choose to fill that space with something better.

But filling that space isn’t always easy. Because letting go also means losing the illusion of control, the idea that you can make everyone like you, approve of you, validate your choices. That will always be my Achilles' heel: the need for recognition. Aristotle said there is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing. But that’s not a life worth living. Looking back, I see now that I’ve tried too hard to smooth the edges, betraying my own nature in the process.

2024 slapped me awake to a truth I’d forgotten: comfort is a seductive liar. I feel like I am back in the fight and feel so grateful about it. Growth lives on the other side of discomfort, and it never arrives with fanfare. It sneaks in quietly after the hard decisions, the long days, the uncertain leaps. There were days last year when I thought I’d pushed too far, when exhaustion whispered, This is enough. But when I look back, those were the days I grew the most.

And then there’s the truth about other people. We all carry stories. Two sides, always. Yours, theirs. Neither is complete. The mistake is believing yours is the only one that matters. In every conflict, every misunderstanding, I now try to see the full picture, even when it hurts. Not to excuse, not to justify, but to understand. It doesn’t erase the past, but it makes moving forward lighter, freer.

2024 brought an end to a chapter where I had questioned my optimism, doubting whether it was a strength or mere naivety. In that doubt, I betrayed myself. Optimism wasn’t a weakness, it was the fire that made me alive. Pessimism didn’t ground me, it suffocated me. From now on, I choose energy that uplifts, belief that ignites, and people bold enough to dream without limits. I choose to stand firmly in the light and leave the shadows of doubt far behind.

And now, here I stand, on the cusp of 2025. I’ve shed what didn’t serve me. I’ve made peace with the unfinished stories. I carry forward only what matters, the lessons, the clarity, the hope. This year isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about pursuit. Of joy. Of purpose. Of that continuous elusive alignment the Japanese call ikigai, where what you love, what you’re good at, and what the world needs all intersect.

As I look ahead, I don’t feel certainty. I feel possibility. And isn’t that enough ? To know that every step, no matter how unsure, is a step forward. To trust that the storm leaves the earth richer, more ready for what comes next.

So here’s to 2025: the year we keep moving, keep trying, and maybe, just maybe, find something extraordinary along the way.

Let’s carry this forward and make it the standard for the next decade

Don’t count the days; make the days count.