I don’t have one clear emotion when I think about 2025 — and maybe that says more than anything else.
It was a year when I worked hard. Really hard.
It was also a year filled with incredible adventures with my gorgeous family — the kind of moments that remind me why I do what I do in the first place.
At the start of the year, though, there was uncertainty quietly sitting in the background. My business had struggled following changes made by Google, and for the first time in a long while, I genuinely worried about losing something I’d spent over fifteen years building. That fear wasn’t dramatic or loud — it was constant.
And yet, if I had to choose one word to describe 2025, it wouldn’t be fear.
It would be growth.
Working Through the Worry
When my business felt shaky, I did what I’ve always done — I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
I spent time updating my websites, improving my stats, increasing page views, and adapting rather than panicking. I completed a digital marketing course — the first course I’d done in a very long time — and it reminded me just how much I love learning. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that part of myself.
Becoming more organised, planning my content properly, and reconnecting with why I started blogging in the first place brought back a sense of purpose I didn’t realise I’d been missing. It wasn’t just about fixing numbers. It was about rebuilding confidence.
But there was a cost.
What I’m Leaving Behind
I’m leaving behind working longer hours than I should have.
Because of my worries, I often worked late into the evening, convincing myself it was necessary. Over time, rest began to feel like something I had to earn — and that’s not something I want to carry forward.
By the end of the year, I started to notice it. I began switching off earlier. I gave myself evenings back. I created space again — not just for my family, but for myself.
I found my love of reading again, something I hadn’t realised I’d let slip. Reading helped me slow down and properly relax in a way scrolling never could. I particularly enjoyed Atomic Habits which really got me thinking. I returned to the gym and remembered how good it feels to move my body with intention rather than punishment.
Most importantly, I started listening to myself instead of overriding what I needed.
The Pattern I’m Ready to Break
There’s one emotional pattern that shows up for me year after year — self-doubt.
I can champion anyone else with complete confidence. I can see their strengths, believe in their abilities, and tell them wholeheartedly that they will succeed.
Yet when it comes to myself, I question my abilities and minimise my successes time and time again.
That stops here.
I’m not pretending doubt will magically disappear — but this is the year I stop letting it lead. This is the year I believe in myself, when the evidence is already there.
The Role I’m Ready to Lay Down
If I’m being completely honest with myself, the role that feels most exhausting is the one that copes quietly.
I’ve never liked appearing weak or incapable. Asking for help doesn’t come naturally to me — not because I don’t believe in it, but because I’ve always been used to managing things internally before letting anyone else see the cracks.
I’ve often felt like a complicated person in that way. I’m confident in many areas of my life, yet I question myself deeply in others. I don’t always find decision-making easy, and I can sit with options longer than I probably need to.
And yet, when I look back, there’s something important I can’t ignore.
I always follow my instincts in the end. And they have never led me far wrong.
So perhaps the problem was never capability — it was permission.
Confidence Without Needing Validation
As I reflected on the year, I realised something else.
I don’t actually feel the need to prove myself to anyone.
I don’t seek validation from others, and I don’t measure my worth by applause or approval. What matters most to me is whether I feel aligned with what I’ve done.
That feels important to say — because self-doubt doesn’t always come from outside pressure. Sometimes it exists quietly within us, even when no one is questioning us at all.
Mine shows up not as insecurity — but as hesitation.
What Believing in Myself Will Look Like in 2026
If I trusted myself just a little more, I know exactly what would change.
I would make bolder decisions about the direction of my business instead of playing it safe. I would stop defaulting to what’s familiar simply because it feels comfortable.
I’ve been told many times that I have the ability to expand what I’ve built — to stretch myself creatively and professionally. The ideas have always been there.
What’s held me back hasn’t been a lack of vision.
It’s been a fear of failing.
So in 2026, I’m choosing something different.
I’m choosing to trust the instincts that have already carried me this far. I’m choosing to believe that growth doesn’t require perfection — just courage. And I’m giving myself permission to try, even if the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
Because staying small out of fear no longer feels safer than taking a chance on myself.