looking back at 2025 (the second edition)
How fast time flies! A year ago, I wrote looking back at 2024 and pondered how life would be like a year later, if I would still be on Bear archiving a 2025 version. While the year concluded painfully on a personal level, it’s still worthwhile to share some major highlights. In a sense, 2025 felt more like a continuation of 2024’s familiar oscillation between highs and lows.
January to May marked my final term as a university student. I was juggling my thesis project, groupwork across three courses, and final exams, all at once. I spent ceaseless hours in the library, buried beneath piles of thick Process Design books and an ever-growing stack of PowerPoint slides. I recall café hopping, hoping that a changed scenery would reignite my momentum despite my eventual burnout. Still, my hard work paid off, and I recently graduated class valedictorian.
In June, I finished university. I expected a surge of pride, perhaps some closure, but it felt strangely anti-climactic. I believed my life would all be figured out by then; instead, I encountered a loss I had never known before, with the absence of structure and prescribed purpose. It was mortifying yet paradoxically liberating that my future was now entirely under my control. No one prepared me for being released into the world after years of doing everything “right” within carefully constructed systems.
Summer was spent overseas visiting my family. It wasn’t an easy visit. Unresolved memories resurfaced, and I found myself recurrently trying to make peace with a past that still resists reconciliation. Yet, grace appeared in unexpected forms. I met remarkable, like-minded people who altered how I related to the city. I remember one night vividly, a small gathering unraveling into religion, feminism, and the taboo. I still wonder: If I ever return, will I have a place for myself among them?
From September through mid-December, I worked on two research papers in sustainability/clean energy, an invitation from my professor. I’ve previously written about my interest in academia, so it felt almost serendipitous to engage in precisely that, post-graduation. Drafting two manuscripts (>30,000 words!) demanded intense levels of discipline. For three months, I was fully locked in with my ScienceDirect references, datasets, and manuscript drafts. It was exhausting, yet deeply satisfying to meaningfully surrender to deep work. I am hoping to become a published first-author soon! I was also navigating job applications and applying for Master’s programs abroad.
I also joined a poetry circle, where I met some of the most creative, open-minded people I know – artists, writers, thinkers from vastly diverse backgrounds. These days, we meet on Wednesdays to write, and Saturday to sketch. Community was a major intention for 2025 and building it became the most fulfilling experience of the year. A major epiphany was that, no matter how introverted I was, I cannot do this life alone. No one can, I think.
These days, I am applying to jobs, though collecting more rejections than I would like. Employment is a dehumanizing process, but I push forward. I am also exploring freelance writing and drawing more without the old hesitation of perfectionism. I am learning to redirect my anger inward less often.
2025 was hectic, and I believe I spent it well. I am currently in a transformative period of my life, forced to make difficult choices outside my control. It’s been painful to confront the limits of my influence, but I am learning to surrender to the process, to believe these unexpected detours will guide me towards bigger blessings. I hope 2026 is gentler on me.
(Random memories to remember: Getting back into oil painting. Writing my first poem. Shooting ads for my uni. Randomly casted as an extra in some cafe ad for $20. Campfire with friends. Starting a Substack. Meeting an art curator for a future exhibition. Listening to Stray Kids for hours. Quitting my antidepressants. Picking up large-scale drawing.)