2025 didn’t tiptoe in. It arrived with a clipboard, a calendar full of meetings, and a very clear message of “You’re in it now. Fully. All the way in.”

This was the year I stepped into my new role and actually turned things around. Not quietly. Not tentatively. I did what needed to be done, big time. And the thing that still makes me pause happily is this: my board had my back. Truly. That kind of support doesn’t just make work easier; it makes it possible. Work was hard, yes, but strangely, I didn’t feel anxious. I could breathe. That alone feels like a minor miracle and a major win.

And then there was travel. Oh, the travel. Turkey. Antigua. Costa Rica. Nicaragua. Asheville. Mystic. Boston (with my son, college-visiting and memory-making). New York State day trips, i.e. Beacon, small towns, quiet joy.

Antigua gave me a swim-up pool, a dream I had carried for years and somehow without fanfare manifested. Costa Rica delivered another stunning room, because clearly 2025 understood my need for beauty and good lighting. Nicaragua? That was pure adventure in which there was a 3:30 a.m. start, border crossings, and by noon speedboating through Las Isletas. The kind of day that becomes shorthand forever. Remember Nicaragua? Yes. Always.

Home life grounded me.
My three dogs continued their reign as tiny, furry sources of delight. One scare, my smallest injuring his back, reminded me how fragile love can feel. He’s okay. We’re adjusting. Less jumping. More mindfulness. (For him. I’m still leaping metaphorically.)

Then there was the hard part. The part no one orders but everyone gets eventually. My son got sick. Very sick. MRIs. Surgery scheduling chaos. Midnight  calls to on-call providers. Treatment denials. Appeals. The special hellscape of healthcare bureaucracy when you’re scared and tired and advocating fiercely. It wasn’t easy. But we got through it. Together. And that matters more than I can put into words.

As for me? Apparently 2025 decided I needed a feather allergy.
Sure. Why not. Life is nothing if not committed to plot twists.

Pop culture didn’t exactly dazzle this year, but there were standouts: Slow Horses, White Lotus, Pee-wee as Himself, and finally Orphan Black (Late, but enthusiastic.) I liked the Pitt TV show. Movies? Eh. 2025 was more about lived experience than cinematic escape. Did I even make it to the movie theatre?

And somewhere along the way, I fully claimed pink and purple, let my hair grow long, and leaned into a new look that felt less like reinvention and more like permission. New attitude. Same gut instincts that are still spot on.

So what was 2025?

A year of competence without panic. Ambition with air in my lungs. Joy folded into exhaustion.
Beauty, bureaucracy, bravery, and borders crossed literal and emotional.

It wasn’t perfect. It was scary at times. But I had support and in the end I could breathe.  And honestly? I’ll take that every time.