2025: A Year of Slowing Down, Learning, and Quiet Gratitude

As 2025 comes to a close, I’ve been reflecting more than usual. This wasn’t a year of constant motion or highlight reels. It didn’t look like nonstop travel, packed calendars, or big, obvious wins. Instead, 2025 was slower, heavier, and far more internal — a year that asked me to sit with myself, even when I didn’t want to. Here is my year in review.

My mental health became one of the defining themes of the year. I struggled deeply, and depression settled in quietly before taking up more space than I expected. Some days, just getting through the day felt like an accomplishment. In trying to find my footing again, I cycled through different antidepressants, hoping each new prescription would be the one that helped me feel like myself again.

Instead, many of them left me feeling numb.

The sharp edges of sadness dulled, but so did everything else — joy, excitement, motivation. Along with that numbness came weight gain, which felt confusing and frustrating. My body changed while my emotions stayed flat, and it was hard not to feel disconnected from myself. As someone who values movement, strength, and taking care of my health, this was one of the hardest parts to accept. It forced me to confront the reality that sometimes survival mode doesn’t look healthy — it just looks like getting through.

Travel, something that usually fuels me, did slow down — but it didn’t disappear completely. I made it to Montreal this summer, for the first time in many years. A trip that reminded me how good it feels to wander a city, explore a different culture, eat well, and feel even a flicker of inspiration again. We also went on our annual camping trip with my family, a tradition that we started only a few short years ago but is always a good time . I toured Prince Edward County, soaking in the slower pace, good wine, and familiar landscapes. For my birthday this year, we visited Kingston — a weekend that felt both celebratory and reflective. There were also a few weekend camping trips here and there, small escapes that didn’t fix everything but helped more than I realized at the time.

Even so, I learned that rest doesn’t always look like a packed itinerary or constant movement. Sometimes it looks like staying home, cancelling plans, and choosing stillness over momentum — even when that stillness feels uncomfortable.

One of the quieter but meaningful milestones of the year was buying my new VW Taos. It felt symbolic in ways I didn’t expect — a sign of stability, independence, and forward movement during a time when other areas of life felt stuck. A reminder that progress can exist even when it’s subtle.

We closed out 2025 winter camping at Arrowhead Provincial Park in brutal -25°C temperatures. Cold, uncomfortable, and unforgettable. Ending the year that way felt oddly perfect. Standing in that kind of cold forces you to be present, to adapt, and to push through discomfort. It was a reminder that even after a hard year, I’m still capable of showing up and doing hard things.

One of the most eye-opening lessons of 2025 was discovering who my real friends are. When you go through something heavy — especially when you sink deep into depression — your circle changes. Some people don’t know how to show up. Some drift away when things stop being easy or fun. And then there are the ones who stay. The ones who are still there on the other side, even after seeing you at your lowest, your quietest, and your most withdrawn.

Those friendships mean everything to me now.

Despite the heaviness, I feel deeply grateful for 2025. Grateful for the lessons I didn’t ask for but clearly needed. Grateful for the resilience I built without realizing it. Grateful for the people and moments — big and small — that carried me through.

And now, it feels like a shift.

It’s time to crack down — not from a place of punishment, but from self-respect. Back to the gym. Back to reconnecting with my body and my mind. Back to traveling, camping, and saying yes to the experiences that make me feel alive again. I’m not leaving this year behind — I’m using it as fuel.

2025 didn’t break me. It slowed me down, stripped things back, and reshaped me. And as I step into what’s next, I’m doing it with more awareness, more gratitude, and a renewed commitment to myself.

Cheers to 2026 🥂

Love,

Liz 💕