Not my fastest year — but one I needed
For much of this year, I had a quiet, nagging feeling that I hadn’t done very much.
That I hadn’t moved as fast as I usually do.
That things looked less visible, less decisive from the outside — sometimes even to me.
It’s only now, with a bit of distance, that I can see how much actually shifted.
Not through big moves or dramatic moments, but through subtler changes that were hard to recognise while I was in them.
Here’s what this year shaped in me, the long way round:
• 𝗜’𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗿 — 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗜’𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼.
I’m usually someone who decides quickly and moves with momentum. That’s part of how I’ve built things in the past. This year felt different. Slower than I wanted. What I’ve come to see is that I wasn’t hesitating — I was being careful with something that mattered deeply. Learning patience with myself, and with the scale of what I was building, has been one of the harder growth edges.
• 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵 — 𝗜 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀.
What surprised me wasn’t learning how to coach, but recognising how often people had already trusted me with their thinking, their doubts and their biggest decisions. Looking back, many of my most meaningful conversations were already doing this work. This year wasn’t about becoming someone new. It was about owning what had been there all along.
• 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗯𝘁 — 𝗶𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝘁.
There were moments this year when I genuinely thought, surely I should feel more certain by now. What I learned is that being seasoned doesn’t mean doubt disappears. It means I recognise it more quickly and don’t let it be the thing that decides for me.
• 𝗜𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁.
I’m very good at convincing myself that I’ve “got this.” This year reminded me how much better things move when I let smart, generous people challenge my thinking, encourage me and occasionally tell me — kindly — to stop rushing or second-guessing and take the next step.
• 𝗠𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀.
When what I’m building genuinely aligns with who I am, the effort doesn’t disappear — but it steadies. It feels less performative, more honest and far more sustainable.
I’m ending the year with fewer grand plans than I used to make, more trust in the path I’m on and a quiet confidence that this chapter — long considered and carefully built — is the right one.
And just to be clear: I still move fast.
I just do it with a little more patience now — and, I hope, better judgement.
Wishing you a thoughtful end to the year, and whatever clarity you need for what comes next.