2025 arrived loudly.
If I had to name the lesson that threaded its way through everything, it would be this: everything changes. And when I grip outcomes too tightly, that grip is often what turns discomfort into overwhelm. Or pain. Or exhaustion.
This year held a lot.
There were multiple moves. The loss of my beloved father-in-law. Fractures, both literal and emotional. Old trauma stirred within my family of origin in ways that were complex and confronting. I’m intentionally vague here. Not because it didn’t matter, but because some stories don’t need public detail to be honoured.
And alongside all of that, there was so much goodness.
This has quite possibly been my favourite year of parenting. Both of my kids moved through different developmental phases that stopped me in my tracks. They reminded me of the gold that exists alongside the mess. Of the abundance I carry simply by having the privilege of birthing them and growing alongside them.
There was deep love, friendship, and passion in my romantic relationship. A sense of being known. Chosen. Laughed with.
There was also the strange and stretching gift of living in different homes. Of trying that on. Of noticing what happens internally when nothing feels permanent and learning, slowly, not to panic about it.
One of the most profound experiences of the year was completing yoga teacher training. It was intense. Eye-opening. Life- and soul-changing in ways I didn’t fully anticipate. I made friends for life. I met parts of myself I hadn’t sat with before. I learned that embodiment isn’t a concept. It’s a practice. One that keeps asking you to show up honestly.
Then there’s perimenopause.
I feel a deep sense of privilege here. The ability to trial different HRT options, to listen to my body, to access support, and to find what works for me is not something I take lightly. Perimenopause can be brutal. Long-lasting. Unsettling. Mine reminded me again that our bodies are not problems to be solved, but systems asking to be heard.
For me, oestrogen and testosterone turned out to be the magic mix. I share that not as advice, but as permission. Permission to stay curious. To advocate. To keep adjusting.
Professionally, this year cracked my heart open in the best way.
I have honestly loved all of my clients in some way. No matter how someone shows up in the room, withdrawn, avoidant, adversarial, guarded, I am lucky enough to meet the inner them. The three-year-old. The fourteen-year-old. The twenty-one-year-old who learned how to survive.
But this year, I worked with the most open, committed, courageous souls. Watching people soften towards themselves and each other never stops feeling like a privilege. Standing with couples as they repair, re-learn, and re-choose one another is work I do not take for granted.
There were also beautiful professional alliances. Work that felt aligned. Partnerships rooted in shared values. Learning spaces that stretched me as a clinician and as a human.
And then there were the people who held Nest together behind the scenes. Vic, whose warmth and care shaped so much of this year. Mel, who has stepped into the Practice Manager role with steadiness and heart. Community does not happen by accident. It is built.
As I look back, I don’t see a year that was neat or resolved.
I see a year that asked me to loosen my grip. To stay in relationship. To trust my body. To love deeply without certainty. To keep choosing presence over control.
And that feels like a lesson worth carrying forward.
If any of this feels close to home, you might also find these pieces supportive:
- “Better Late Than Never… My 2024 Reflections” – where I talk about neurodivergent diagnoses, injury, trauma and loss in our family. (nestcounselling.com.au)
- “When Perimenopause Enters the Chat: What It Means for Your Relationship” – for anyone whose hormones are making everything feel louder. (nestcounselling.com.au)
