I felt like I needed to understand everything to feel safe and secure.

Time stretches on, and I’ve realized that many times, we can’t make sense of everything in life or completely understand why. Much of 2025 felt confusing to me (and in retrospect, still is). I choose now to cast my glance not on where I’ve been but on where I am going. I want to use my memory of the past as fuel for the person I desire to become.

Here is some of that “fuel” I’m taking into 2026.

1. Actually, it’s not all up to you.

I used to think that taking credit for everything in my life made me a “responsible” person. Any decision—however big or small—had immense weight. I believed that the results of my efforts were solely because of my inputs.

I took pride in what I accomplished, giving myself credit for any success. But, I also took any and every little “failure” as a result of my own imperfection. Relationships that didn’t work out, dream jobs that flopped, unforeseen roommate issues, etc. I interpreted such adverse circumstances as signs that I had failed, and I beat myself up about it.

I’m starting to see that this is a form of unconventional egoism. Thinking that all good things come only through my own efforts and all bad things come only through my mistakes is a way of perceiving reality that puts me at the center. It’s self-centeredness in an untraditional way, effortlessly disguised under the mask of “self-improvement” and “personal accountability.” The truth is: there are a myriad of factors that lead to the outcomes in our lives. God’s will, for one. Other people’s choices, the environment we live in, the societal climate, the list goes on. Obviously, personal choices do have an impact on the events that happen to us. But to shrink down reality to just me, myself, and I, and deny the multifaceted nature of the world…it’s simply illogical, and quite frankly—prideful.

2. Stop taking yourself so seriously.

I will admit, I’m a bit of a drama queen. I mean, why else would I write as I do? I sometimes imagine I’m living in a novel.

I feel things intensely, I’m highly nostalgic, I keep careful track of timelines and details. But this has backfired on me, because the slightest adverse moment becomes devastating. I take minor corrections as a blow to my self-esteem. Every falling out with a friend or breakup with a boyfriend is a tragedy that takes years to recover from.

We can’t always help how we feel, but we can coach our interior dialogue to be conducive to HOPE. That’s what I discovered this year. I need to laugh at myself more. I need to realize that this life is so transient, so passing, and we can’t let every little suffering put us back light-years. I was brought up to think strategically about the decisions I made. My parents instilled in me the value of making good choices because every single choice leads us to becoming the person we want to be.

I hold these values in one hand, and in the other, I hold the recognition that I am human. I’ll experience setbacks and make bad choices. And you know what? I can relax—because I’m not God. He has my humanity already interwoven into the tapestry of my life. He knows when and where I’ll stumble, and He’s already planned how it’ll all work out.

What a relief it is to not be God.

3. Don’t be afraid to explore—how will you know who you really are if you don’t know who you really aren’t?

No, I’m not advocating for anyone to “jump off the deep end” or make crazy decisions. I’m not gonna hop in a hippie van, or get a face tattoo, or marry a stranger. However, in 2025, I learned to stop being so avoidant of risk and failure. It kept me from living. Sometimes, the best way to find out who you are is to find out who you’re not.

I don’t think I ever would’ve known critical pieces of who I am if I hadn’t explored living with someone besides my family, working in uncomfortable jobs, and experiencing life in a foreign country. 2025 taught me not to run away from unknown things. Because it’s in living, experiencing, failing, and winning that we really learn what we’re about and who we are.

4. Love God for His own sake.

I’ve learned this year that my love for God is very flawed and very selfish. Primarily, I have loved him for my own sake.

I love him for the peace of mind I get from knowing he’s there. I love him for the sense he brings to life. I love him for the way it makes me feel to be a Christian and be better than people who aren’t. I love him for the aesthetic of loving him, of having a nice little religion to fall back on when the going gets tough. But this isn’t actually loving him. This is loving what he gives me.

From late 2024 and leading in to 2025, so much was stripped from me. Suddenly, God didn’t bring me any sense, or comfort, or consolation. I realized with sudden self-awareness how heavily I relied on these “accents of God” instead of God himself. So, I prayed to be like the poor widow in Jesus’ parable who put one coin into the temple treasury—she “gave in her poverty all she had, her entire livelihood.” That is what I desire to do with my life. I was granted an incredible grace to give to God from my own poverty. In past years, I see that I have given to him from my abundances—my wealth of security, hope, and comfort. This year, I want to keep loving him for who he is. Not just for what he gives me.

Because he is so, so good.

5. Learn to “Let them.”

This past year, I’ve been obsessed with the “Let Them Theory” by Mel Robbins. I started out listening to the podcast, and eventually purchased the book while in Seoul over Chuseok. Wow. What a life-changing read.

The whole idea behind the Theory is learning to accept that—no matter how much you try—you cannot control others. Instead, you must learn to let them be who they are. Let them make their own choices and face the consequences. Saying “let them” freed me and gave me energy to focus on my own decisions, reactions, and boundaries (the only thing I can actually control).

This became such a necessary skill I needed to develop, especially when I moved abroad. Initially, when I shared the news of my cross-continental move with my circle of friends and family, the range of reactions was jarring. I was met with support and skepticism, excitement and fear. In one corner, I was told I was “an inspiration” and “brave,” and in the other, I was told I was “rash” and “shouldn’t have watched so many K-pop music videos” (haha, maybe they had a point). I could have absorbed it all like a sponge and allowed it to sway my convictions.

But instead, I decided to let them.

Let them be upset that I’m moving away. Let them think I’m brave (even though I’m terrified). Let them think I’m shallow and only moving to Korea to meet a K-pop looking man and get married (oh, that one really annoyed me). When I allowed the people around me to feel how they felt, instead of trying to manage their emotions or control their perception of me, I was able to focus on my own internal convictions and cultivate peace. I’m nowhere near perfect at doing this, but it’s a habit I hope to continue into the new year.

It’s incredibly freeing.

6. Everything is fading. So enjoy it. Or don’t and just relax, because it’ll be over soon anyway.

I had a flashback the other day to my post-graduation, car dealership Summer. I was living alone in a city I didn’t like, in a dirty apartment, and feeling completely lost. At that time, it felt like everything. And I was miserable.

Looking back, I wish I could’ve told my twenty-year-old self to take a breath—because it wasn’t going to last. I wish I could tell my panicked, younger self, “Calm down. Try and enjoy life a little more. Have your siblings over to your apartment. Go visit your best friend on her lunch break. Stop freaking out over making another car sale. You’ll be living in South Korea in two years anyway.”

Maybe it’s my youth, but I tend to get really absorbed in whatever season I’m in and lose perspective. 2024 to 2025 were a bit odd for me; I spent so many little stints of time working different jobs and living in different places. On the other side of it, I’ve learned that everything is sand slipping through our fingers. Seasons change quickly. Leaves turn over. Life goes on.

I’m trying to rest more in the place I’m in. I want to enjoy where I am and embrace it wholeheartedly so there are no regrets. So if you’re in a bad season, you can breathe because it will end eventually. And if you’re in a good one, embrace it with all you are, because it won’t be like that forever.

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