What I did for new years and how it helped me look back at 2025

No, it wasn’t a big party or a fireworks-filled celebration for me.

It was a quiet night with people I truly call home. We cooked a generous feast, ate until our stomachs protested, made mugs of warm hot chocolate, beat each other mercilessly at card games, and hugged as the clock struck midnight.

Honestly, to me it felt like the best way to say hello to 2026.

New Years Eve party had always been a very performative thing for me in the past.

Being with the best group, partying until dawn, doing the resolution rituals. They all felt like boxes I had to tick to have the the perfect way to walk into the new year. But this year end was so effortlessly perfect.

As I was reflecting back, here are some thoughts that came up…

I feel every new year pretends to be about fresh starts.

For me, this one was about coming home to what has always mattered. People, stories, and the power of learning together. Because there’s nothing like the feeling of safety it brings.

Professionally, I wear two hats: a facilitator and a journalist. On paper, they seem different. In practice, they’re deeply connected by one simple love for training people and building communities where voices are heard and not hurriedly brushed under the rug.

There are two parts to this skillset.

The part that came naturally for me was structure and clarity. I’ve always been drawn to clarity. Taking something complex and making it accessible. Turning confusion into direction. Helping people find words when their thoughts feel tangled.

Whether I’m designing a workshop or shaping a story, structure feels like home to me. It’s how I create safety for myself and for others. Because when people know where they are, they’re more willing to show up fully.

Now the part that didn’t come naturally was vulnerability and risk. This year asked more of me. It asked me to loosen my grip on perfection. To speak even when my voice felt unsure. To facilitate not just with tools, but with honesty.

I learned that vulnerability isn’t a soft skill but it’s a pretty major leadership decision. And taking risks doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s as small (and as brave) as saying, “I’m still learning too.”

What facilitation taught me?

Through Eleos, facilitation became more than a profession, it became a mirror to me.

Every session I led reminded me that growth doesn’t happen through fixing people oe with an agenda, it happens by creating spaces where they can be real.

Spaces where listening matters. Where self-awareness is as important as skill-building. Where leadership begins with empathy.

I grew alongside the people I worked with. And that, to me, is seriously the most honest form of teaching.

What journalism grounded me in at 101Reporters?

Through 101Reporters, journalism stayed close to the ground where impact lives the most.

Training grassroots reporters, supporting local voices, and working with stories that rarely make it to the center reminded me why I fell in love with journalism in the first place. Not for noise or speed, but for truth, context, and responsibility.

It reinforced a belief I carry deeply that real change begins when the right stories reach the right people, told with care.

All in all…

I’m grateful for the learners who showed up bravely, for communities that trusted me, for mentors who stretched my thinking, and for teams that reminded me this work is never ever a solo act.

Most of all, I’m grateful that I get to do work where learning is mutual and impact is shared.

As this year unfolds, I’m not chasing a new version of myself.

I’m choosing to go deeper into what already feels true.