A Year of Letting Go, A Year of Becoming

As I step into 2026, I’ve been reflecting on the year that just passed.
2025 was an incredible year – not because it was easy, but because it changed me.

Much of the year unfolded through travel. In March, I began my Churchill Fellowship, spending six weeks moving through Minneapolis, Austin, Washington DC, Philadelphia, New York City, London, Edinburgh, and Helsinki. I also visited Nairobi for the 5th World Federation of the Deaf Conference.

Both journeys gave me the opportunity to look closely at Deaf leadership on a global level, and to understand how it operates differently across countries, cultures, and communities. These experiences expanded my thinking, challenged my assumptions, and deepened my sense of what’s possible when Deaf people are centred and supported.

One of the highlights of the year was seeing Christine Sun Kim‘s exhibitions in New York City and London. I’ve been following her work for over a decade, so experiencing it in person felt incredibly special. Seeing her art inhabit physical space – bold, unapologetic, and unmistakably Deaf – was both a joy and an important lesson in how Deaf experience can be represented to the mainstream world with clarity, power, and integrity.

Travel also reconnected me with the planet itself. Moving through different landscapes, climates, and ecosystems gave me a renewed appreciation for what the world has to offer through nature and animals. I found myself returning to an old love – the ocean and marine life – something I had quietly lost touch with over the years. Reconnecting with that part of myself felt grounding, expansive, and unexpectedly healing.

There was something equally meaningful about exploring new places and revisiting familiar ones. Spending more time in Austin and New York City allowed me to experience them differently than I had nearly a decade ago – slower, deeper, with more presence. I found myself loving both cities even more this time around. And while Helsinki left a strong impression, Tallinn has now firmly claimed a place among my favourite European cities.

2025 also began with loss.

My grandad passed away in February, exactly one month before my Fellowship began. I miss him deeply, although I felt his presence with me throughout my travels – steady, familiar, grounding. In many ways, I carried with him with me as I moved through the world.

In August, I travelled to Nairobi, Kenya for the 5th WFD Conference. Africa had never really been on my list, but when the opportunity arose, I had a very clear fuck it moment – and I went. Kenya taught me something important: that sometimes the best decisions are made when we stop overthinking and start trusting ourselves. It showed me the power of embracing those fuck it moments more often – the ones that crack things open and lead to growth I couldn’t have planned for.

September marked another quiet but meaningful milestone. During the National Week of Deaf People, I published my Churchill Fellowship report – a moment that felt both grounding and full-circle. Sharing that work during a week dedicated to Deaf community, culture, and pride felt deeply aligned with why I undertook the Fellowship in the first place.

July had already brought its own turning point – I turned 40. Leading up to it, I was incredibly anxious about organising my birthday, especially about who would show up. Not long after I returned from my Fellowship travels, I made a conscious decision to shed that anxiety. I booked the venue, ordered the cake, and decided to trust that it would be a good night.

What unfolded was even better than I imagined. The night was filled with love, safety, and softness. People showed up – fully, generously – and there was a deep sense of care in the room. Most importantly, everyone had a wonderful time, and seeing that brought me so much joy. It was a powerful reminder that I am held, even when my anxiety tells me otherwise.

Yet the most important work of 2025 happened quietly.

I began unpacking the shame I grew up with – slowly, compassionately – and letting it go. I reframed old narratives into affirmations I had needed as a younger version of myself. I began re-parenting myself, offering care, safety, and reassurance where there had once been gaps. Through this process, I re-learned my core values, with community care standing out as the most important of all – not just in principle, but in how I love, work, and relate.

All of this felt deeply aligned with 2025 being the Year of the Snake – a year of shedding old skin, of quiet transformation, of painful yet necessary change. Over time, I released people, patterns, expectations, and versions of myself that no longer aligned with my values and with who I am becoming.

And now, 2026 arrives as the Year of the Horse.

After a year of internal change, the Horse represents movement – strength, freedom, and momentum. This is the year I lean fully into my core values, trust my instincts, remain open to growth, and confidently forge my own path. It’s also the year to use my horsepower – to accelerate forward with intention, clarity, and care for community.

No rushing.
No proving.

Just movement that feels aligned.

As I step into 2026, I do so lighter, clearer, and ready.
Not loudly changed – but deeply.