As 2025 comes to an end, I find myself looking back at what I hoped this year would be, and what it quietly became.
My word for the year was consistency.
I started strong. Morning runs, journaling, routines that felt steady and reassuring. There was comfort in repetition, in knowing what each day would hold.
And then, slowly, that rhythm faded.
When consistency loosened, something else took its place. Curiosity.
Instead of repeating the same patterns, I began to move differently. I stepped into unfamiliar spaces, not to master them, but to remember what it feels like to begin. Sewing my own clothes became one of those moments. Working slowly, making mistakes, adjusting as I went. It reminded me that progress does not always come from repetition. Sometimes it comes from paying attention.
Looking back, 2025 was not a year of steady routines. It was a year of quiet transformation.
In the Year of the Snake, that feels fitting. Change did not arrive loudly. It happened through small decisions, through noticing what no longer fit, and allowing myself to move without forcing clarity too soon.
This year also made me more aware of how often I place others before myself. Accommodating, adjusting, helping, sometimes without checking what I need. While this comes from care, it also taught me how easily I step aside.
Learning to say no is not something that happens overnight. It is a process, and often a quiet fight I have to choose for myself again and again. Some days I notice it clearly, other days I forget. But the awareness is there now, and that alone changes how I make decisions.
As I move toward 2026, I want to be more intentional. To pause before saying yes. To prioritize my own dreams. To return to the things I wanted to begin in 2025, and to challenge myself to continue them, not with pressure, but with care.
Living in a society that values conformity, this is still a transition. Even after being back for many years, choosing myself can feel unfamiliar. But I am learning that it is enough to be as I am, and to move at my own pace.
Evermugi lives in this in between space. Between consistency and change. Between discipline and softness. Between who we were and who we are becoming.
This is not a conclusion.
Just a pause.
A moment to acknowledge what quietly shifted.