2025: That's a Wrap

I nearly didn’t publish this. It’s true. It’s just inconvenient, and I’m wary of the urge to hide the inconvenient bits and polish the rest.

2025 doesn’t sum up neatly. No big turning point, just shit piling up, and a growing gap between what was expected and what was supported.

The hard yards

It was a hard year, the grinding kind. It got into my shoulders, my sleep and my patience. A year that kept asking for more focus, more resilience, more output, while taking away whatever made that possible.

Pay is part of this story, and pretending otherwise is dishonest. Flat pay alongside rising expectations does more than bruise morale. It burns you out.

Physically, I was knackered and sleep didn’t fix it. Mentally, I was carrying more context, responsibility and risk with less slack. Financially, pay stayed flat while food, energy, travel and childcare didn’t.

Layered onto that were commute days: twice a week, with around three hours of travel each way. Six hours spent getting to and from work, on top of a full working day, turning those days into thirteen-hour stretches that start early and end late. They’re often dismissed because they’re ‘only’ a couple of days a week, framed as a personal choice. And yes, I chose it, because I had to. Getting by sometimes means a trade-off that was never really a choice. Those days cost me energy, attention and any time to recover.

Then more time in the office got rebranded as ‘culture’. Less flexibility, less room to recover, and nobody admitting what it all adds up to. The unspoken expectation was clear enough: work comes first, and everything else needs to adapt around it.

That’s when time with my partner and our kids stopped being how I coped and became the thing I wouldn’t give up. Shared meals, school runs and walks to nowhere in particular weren’t ‘nice to have’ any more. I needed them.

My partner carried more than her fair share at times, and I don’t take that lightly. The kids, blissfully uninterested in any of this, kept pulling me back into the present: into noise, questions, silliness, joy. They didn’t need me to be productive or composed. They just needed me there. That was a relief.

None of that made the year easier. It did make my priorities obvious.

Professionally, 2025 stripped away any remaining tolerance I had for pretending that care, accessibility, and sustainability are optional extras. They’re the basics. When organisations treat them as negotiable (when they ask people to do more with less, indefinitely) the cost doesn’t vanish. It lands somewhere. Usually on the people least able to push back.

I’m done translating those values into something quieter or more convenient. Accessibility isn’t a bolt-on and sustainability isn’t a vibe. If a system only works when everyone overextends, it’s not a good system.

Writing has been part of how I’ve processed all of this. No hot takes or neat conclusions, just notes on how power and responsibility actually play out. It keeps me honest, which isn’t the same as agreeable.

So, what next

Going into 2026, I’m far less interested in momentum for its own sake. Fewer projects, better chosen. Work that’s supported and built to last, with people who don’t mistake pressure for performance and who get that paying people properly is part of the deal. Full stop.

On a personal level, I’m protecting what kept me intact this year. Time with my family that doesn’t get squeezed into the edges. Rest that doesn’t need a productivity justification. Time to notice the small stuff.

I don’t expect 2026 to be easier. But I’m going in with clearer boundaries, less tolerance for bullshit, and a better idea of what I will and won’t give.