There are years that feel loud, obvious, and eventful.
And then there are years like 2025.
Quieter on the surface, heavier underneath.
This was not a year of spectacle for me. It was a year of shedding.
In many ways, 2025 mirrored the energy of the Snake. Subtle. Strategic. Uncomfortable at times. Growth did not announce itself. It happened slowly, privately, and often through letting go rather than gaining more. Old patterns lost their grip. Familiar narratives stopped making sense. Certain beliefs simply stopped fitting, and once that happens, there is no graceful way to hold onto them.
The hardest part of a shedding year is that nothing new rushes in to replace what leaves. There is a pause. A gap. A period where you are lighter, but also unsure. That space can feel unsettling if you are used to measuring progress by visible wins or clear outcomes. But it is also where clarity sharpens. You stop negotiating with what no longer serves you. You stop carrying what was never meant to be permanent.
2025 asked for discernment. It asked for patience. It asked for honesty with self, especially in moments where pretending would have been easier.
And now, we approach 2026, the Year of the Horse.
If the Snake teaches restraint, the Horse teaches momentum.
The Horse does not hesitate once it decides to move. It carries independence, confidence, and forward motion. But unlike reckless speed, true Horse energy requires alignment. Direction matters. Otherwise, motion becomes exhaustion.
That is what I am taking into this next year.
Not urgency.
Not chaos.
But intentional movement.
2026 feels less about proving and more about choosing. Choosing where to invest energy. Choosing what to protect. Choosing when to move and when to stand firm. After a year of internal recalibration, forward motion feels earned rather than forced.
If 2025 taught me anything, it is that growth does not always look productive. Sometimes it looks like silence. Sometimes it looks like boundaries. Sometimes it looks like walking away without explanation because understanding yourself no longer requires external validation.
As we step into a new year, my hope is not for perfection or constant progress, but for alignment. For movement that feels honest. For decisions made from clarity rather than fear. For strength that comes from knowing when enough is enough.
The skin has already been shed.
Now it is time to move.
2026 is not about becoming someone new. It is about moving forward as who you already are.