A Post-Mortem on 2025

2025 has been a spectacularly bratty year:

Self-indulgent. Demanding. 

Loud in the worst way. It tilted the world ever so slightly off its axis and left many of us shaken, disoriented, and wondering what fresh upheaval might come next. For some, survival meant retreat, into safe spaces, into prayer, into whatever felt familiar enough to anchor the nervous system.

This wasn’t a year that invited celebration. It demanded endurance. It tested empathy. It normalised cruelty in leadership and rewarded greed with power, leaving ordinary people to absorb the shockwaves. In pockets across the globe, mayhem was sown casually, often cynically, by those removed from the masses,  who opted for dominance and control, lacking humanity and vision.

So, as the clock runs down, I’m deep in gratitude that we survived a year that came to redefine so much for so many of us.

I will be in quiet reflection, in fervent hope for release, praying for peace of mind, for the "monsters" to finally eff off, for the noise to die down long enough for us to rebuild something better, kinder, more honest.

For the last 24 hours of this year, I’m hiding out close to home, surrounded by family and loved ones. Among the familiar. Grounded in what’s real. Choosing love over outrage.

Because somewhere along the way, we forgot how to be gentle with one another. We let class-A cruelty masquerade as strength and shrugged as empathy was labelled a liability. And somehow, we were expected to believe this was just “how the world works.”

It doesn’t.

As we stand on the threshold of a new year, it’s worth pausing, not to predict or panic, but to contemplate. Why do we tolerate assholes running our world? Why do we accept systems that reward greed and punish faith? Why is money loved more fiercely than people, and control pursued more obsessively than wisdom?

These aren’t abstract questions. They shape policies, relationships, and the emotional weather we all live under.

Wrapping 2025 in a neat little box isn’t about denial. It’s about boundaries. About saying: this happened in your lifetime, your input and activism mattered, and you get to define what comes next.

Looking toward 2026, I’m choosing intention over inertia. And a cautious but stubborn faith in humankind, not because the evidence is overwhelming, but because surrendering hope would be the final victory of all that fuelled the chaos and destruction.

A newer, kinder world  will be built slowly, in households and communities, in how we speak, how we listen, how we disagree without dehumanising. It will be built by people who are tired but still willing. People that are honest enough to admit the damage, their part in it,  and their bravery to embark on repairing it.

So here’s my wish for the year ahead:
Less greed. Less control. More conscience.
Less noise. More meaning.
Less fear. More love, especially when it’s hardest.

Welcome 2026, we are in your hands.