Lessons from a Silent Year: Reflecting on 2025 and the Wisdom It Holds

At the end of each year, I reflect on what happened, what I wished for, and what I

learned. 2025 is hard to explain; it’s one of those years where the true meaning might not click until much later.

I stayed quiet last year. Mama used to say that with your lips shut, your eyes and ears stay open to do their job. Often, we’re so busy telling the world what we’re doing that we forget to just listen. By being quiet about my life, my love, and my business, I finally heard what my heart and God were trying to tell me.

That listening led to healing. I was tired of the mask—tired of being the "strong one" who smiles and cheers for others while struggling in private. I was pouring into everyone else’s cup while mine was hitting empty. I’ve learned now that you have to be healed before you can truly help. Otherwise, you’re just giving away pieces of yourself until there’s nothing left. And when you’re dry, you have to ask: will the people you poured into even notice you're thirsty?

If 2025 was the year I learned to listen, 2026 is the year I learn to live from the overflow.

I’m entering this year with a different kind of strength—not the kind that wears a mask, but the kind that honors its own boundaries. I’ve realized that I am not a bottomless well for the world to draw from; I am a person who deserves the same care, the same cheering, and the same grace that I so freely give to others.

This year, I am simply moving with intention. I am protecting my peace; I’m no longer "okay" for the sake of comfort. If it costs me my peace, it’s too expensive. I will continue to listen more than I speak, but when I do speak, it will be with a voice that has been healed. Secondly, I am filling my own cup first: I am prioritizing my relationship with myself and with God. I’ve learned that when I am full, I don't have to "pour"—I can simply let my life overflow onto those around me. That way, my own supply never runs dry. Last but not least, “Selective Service”. I will still be a helper and a cheerleader, but I will be mindful of the soil I’m planting in. I’m looking for the people who know how to pour back, the ones who check the well, and the spaces that allow me to be "weak" without judgment.

I am no longer lost. I recall who I used to be, and I am finally embracing my "New Normal" and the person I am evolving into. 2026 isn't about being "strong" for everyone else; it’s about being whole for me.