Goodbye 2025
Two days ago, the piano notes from Closing Time took me straight down memory lane to my teenage years in Caracas. I was singing along when I heard myself say: “Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end…”
I smiled.
It felt as if the universe was speaking to me through a song. Out of all the songs in the world, I had to hear that one, at that exact moment.
And as we kept driving, my thoughts drifted back to this year. To everything it brought. And I knew I wanted to write these lines.
2025, you were a gigantic test and a valuable lesson.
You challenged me in ways I never imagined. Full Metal Jacket style. And to be honest, there were moments when I wasn’t sure my unwanted roommates (those unannounced Dementors that show up from time to time) wouldn’t take over.
Luckily, that’s not how this story ends. And today, I’m grateful to look back and see how far I’ve come.
January began with a photography challenge that changed everything. LITERALLY. It gently pointed me back to what I’ve always said I love doing. And looking back, it felt as if someone was holding my hand and whispered: “come this way…”
And that became the theme of this year:
to create more,
to find myself,
and to improve.
And in this opportunity, I want to share a couple of my biggest lessons this year (of course there were a few more, I just want to focus on these ones for now):
Whatever I want to do requires me to show up.
Show.
Up.
Every.
Day.
You can’t take photos from the sofa while watching YouTube and thinking about taking photos.
Action is the key.
Because action creates movement and this, undeniably, leads to inspiration. Not the other way around.
During this year, the more I did, the more inspired, curious and happy I felt. I realized that action became my Patronus against the Dementor of doubt in my head. I couldn’t hear it as loudly anymore and I felt more engaged with everything I was doing.
It was a win-win.
I also learned that there’s no better way to see the world than through curious eyes. And this year, I made more photographs than in all the previous years combined (excluding Iceland 2024, because that deserves its own story).
What else did I learn?
That if I don’t do what I love, again and again, I’ll never truly get better.
I learned that the pain of staying the same is far worse than the pain of trying to build the life I want. And when fear shows up (as it always does), I go back to that feeling. The weight of not moving. And then, somehow, fear transforms into courage. Like an energy that pulls me forward, regardless of the outcome.
I learned that if I don’t even try, I’ll always wonder what could have been. And I don’t want to live like that.
I learned to ask myself, “what if it works out?” instead of “what if something goes wrong?”
I learned that my real friends never left. They were always there. And that really warms my heart.
I learned that new friendships can arrive in the most unexpected ways. And I love that.
I learned that it’s okay to say no. That protecting my time and my mind sometimes means choosing myself, even when it’s uncomfortable.
I learned that for some things to come in, others must go. Just like the song says: “Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
I learned to enjoy the ride. Yes, I’m building a dream and I’m also learning to have fun while doing it.
I learned that I still have a long way to go and I’m happy I started.
I know that change is the only constant (I really hate that phrase) and I’m still learning to accept it, to adapt faster. I’m someone who holds on tightly, who struggles to let go. And that’s okay I guess. I’m still a work in progress.
I don’t know what 2026 will bring. But if I could ask for one thing, it would be this:
More stories to tell.
More memories to create.
Thank you, 2025, for the lessons. I hope I made you proud.
2026, here I come.
Happy New Year, everyone and here’s to a great 2026 to share!
Thank you for reading.
All the best,
Arianna
