Looking Back on 2025
As this year closes, I find myself feeling fairly grounded — and, surprisingly, reasonably happy with how the year unfolded.
It doesn’t feel like a big celebration or a brutal life audit. More like sitting down at the end of a long day, kicking your shoes off, and realising you’re okay. Tired, maybe. Changed, definitely. But okay.
There were moments of deep absorption, moments of sadness, moments of growth — and plenty of pauses in between (some intentional, some very much not).
Returning to creativity
One of the highlights of this year was relaunching my candle business — something I started a few years ago and genuinely thought I had left behind.
At the start of the year, I’d made a very clear decision: I was going to focus solely on painting. I even began sorting through all my candle-making supplies, fully intending to sell them and close that chapter for good.
Then I thought I’d at least use a few of the supplies to make some candles just for myself.
No plans. No business.
Just candles for home.
Fast forward not very long at all, and somehow I found myself back in full business mode — doing markets, launching a website, creating a whole range of products, and very much not selling those supplies after all!!! I’m still not entirely sure how that happened… but apparently my creativity had other ideas 🙂
Bringing candles back into my life has been a lot of work — but thankfully, the kind of work that feeds creativity rather than drains it. It re-energised me as an artist in ways I didn’t quite expect.
One of my favourite moments is still watching people smell my candles for the first time — that brief pause, followed by surprised smiles or wide eyes. It’s a small thing, but it never stops feeling special.
Living with grief
Alongside those lighter moments, this year has also carried ongoing grief. I still feel deeply sad about my ex, Yuri, who died by suicide in November 2024 (I wrote about this here).
In many ways, it still feels unreal. It’s only been a year, and some days it’s hard to believe this is something I have to carry at all.
But slowly, gently, it is getting easier. I’m learning to remember the good moments more than the pain, and to let time do some of the work I can’t rush (as much as I’d sometimes like it to hurry up).
I’ve found comfort in the idea that grief isn’t something you move on from, but something you learn to live with — a perspective that really resonated with me in this piece on how long grief actually lasts.
Learning who I am
Another thing that stands out this year is how much I’ve been learning about myself. I’ve been untangling patterns, understanding where parts of me come from, and noticing how much of who we are is shaped long before we’re aware of it. That process hasn’t always been comfortable (or linear), but it has made me feel more open — and more at peace with myself than I’ve felt in a long time.
One thing I feel genuinely proud of is realising just how resilient I am. Personally, creatively, professionally — I may stop, pause, step away, or even give up for a while. But I always come back.
Whether it’s a creative idea, a technique I want to learn, or something I’ve struggled with for years, like my relationship with my body — I try, I stop, I try again. It might not be graceful, but it’s persistent.
Boundaries and self-respect
As part of learning more about myself, I’ve also learned to set firmer boundaries. This year, I made choices I didn’t know I was brave enough to make — including stepping away from relationships that had quietly lingered in the background for years.
Letting go brought sadness, disappointment, and a fair amount of grief. But it also brought self-respect. And choosing myself, even when it hurts (and even when I second-guess it), feels like growth.
Slowing down and finding support
Lately, I’ve been trying to ground myself more in routine — especially when it comes to looking after myself physically. I’m experimenting with exercising first thing in the morning, before throwing myself into work. It’s not easy. Work is always the first thing calling my name… and it’s surprisingly convincing 😉
But I’m slowly learning to pause more often, to rest without guilt, and to give my nervous system a little more care — even when my to-do list has very strong opinions about it.
This is often when I reach for my candles the most — not as products, but as quiet companions that don’t ask me to achieve anything at all.
What supported me throughout this year, more than anything, is my husband Pete. We don’t always see eye-to-eye, but he is my rock. Without him, I wouldn’t feel the sense of safety and peace I need to open myself up to the world and let my creativity flow the way it does now.
And of course, my two dogs.
They bring me so much joy and keep me connected to something bigger, softer, and harder to explain — a kind of grounded presence that feels deeply meaningful… and occasionally (well, often really) very distracting! If you have some furry companions, I’m sure you’ll know what I mean 😉
Carrying things forward
Looking ahead, next year I want to keep learning about myself. Because knowledge is power. Understanding how experiences and people shape us gives us the chance to keep growing — or to gently break patterns that no longer serve us.
Not everything makes sense yet. And that’s okay. This end of year reflection feels less about answers, and more about allowing the journey to keep unfolding.
I would love to know — has this year taught you anything?
Was there a moment that stood out, or something you had to move through that felt especially hard?
If you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
x Mimi
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