2025 in review was a deeply painful sequence of life events that took me to places in my mind I didn’t know existed. For most of the year, I was profoundly out of touch with my intuition. I questioned everything, basic tasks took monumental effort, and I was deeply misaligned, both internally and externally.
I became a broken record, endlessly seeking validation from everyone around me to make changes I already knew I needed to make, and I hated myself for it. In the midst of that desperation and self doubt, I got fired from what I thought was my dream job.
I had spent my whole life conspiring around how I could do the most good for the most people. I felt deeply drawn to impact work. When the opportunity arose, I left a well paying job, one I had just been promoted at, to work as an associate director of partnerships at a local nonprofit. I took a pay cut and accepted far more responsibility, all in the name of serving my community.
I didn’t know it yet, but I was in for a sobering realization.
I could say more, but this blog post isn’t about the nonprofit industrial complex. What matters is this. I have never felt so low about my professional abilities as I did during that time.
Soon, my professional life was in shambles, and my personal life felt just as fragmented and uncertain. Life altering decisions needed to be made, and I couldn’t seem to trust myself to make them. I didn’t recognize who I was anymore, let alone believe in my ability to choose wisely.
I spent an unreasonable amount of time trying to figure out how to make a hard decision. I read, I listened, I searched for something or someone that would tell me what to do. One thing finally stood out. It was a Mel Robbins podcast.
“I promise you, there are absolutely no bad decisions, because you are aligning what you do with what is true for you. And only you know what the right thing is for you.”
Something shifted when I heard that. I realized that even if I was somehow fundamentally messed up in some way, and even if the decision I made led me further from the life I thought I wanted, it was still me making that decision. In that moment, in those murky waters, that version of me deserved some reprieve from the stress I was carrying.
For a long time, I believed that if I could just change a little more, try a little harder, expect a little less, everything would eventually work out and I would finally be happy. The truth is that trying to be happy, pretending to be happy, and imagining being happy are not happiness.
So I made a life altering decision. One that thrust me into a sea of uncertainty.
The very next day, my friend died.
It wasn’t the kind of death you can sweep under the rug or mentally dissociate from. It was the kind of loss that leaves a permanent hole…that disrupts an entire community. The kind that changes you in ways you cannot fix. You only learn how to live with a new normal. A normal where a dark cloud quietly hangs over everything and everyone.
Suddenly, all of my problems turned to ash in my mind. Losing a relationship felt meaningless in the face of losing a friend.
They say grief comes in waves, but this felt more like an earthquake. There was no stable ground. The aftershocks kept coming and they still do. You never know when they will hit, but you feel them in your bones when they do.
Rest in peace friend.
Over time, things began to settle. Not back to what they were, but into something gentler. Something hopeful. Friends slowly started making plans again. Laughing again. Hoping again. All of us visibly changed, carrying what was lost with us.
This year not only taught me how fragile life is or how brief time can be. It taught me that the cost of betraying ourselves is far greater than the discomfort of truth. I’ve learned that the things you want and the things meant for you are not always aligned, and that the gap between them is where growth lives. I’ve learned to lean into intuition, even when it isn’t telling me what I want to hear, because rejecting that quiet knowing is rejecting the direction God is guiding you in.
I hope that in all the grief and loss of this year, we find a better way forward. I hope we make fewer compromises when it comes to our goals and dreams, because the brevity of life has been etched into us now. I hope we pause long enough to notice how loved we are and love others more intentionally in return. I hope we step into this year with clear eyes and full hearts.
Take this time to reflect on what truly brings you fulfillment.
For me, it is nature, culture, and community. That is exactly what I plan to pour into this year.
Cheers to 2026.
Shar