2025 felt smoother than the year before. Felt is the operative word. Looking back, it wasn’t without its fair share of wins, losses, realisations, acceptance—big and small.
The first few months played out with the usual cast and storyline taking centre stage. If you’re new to my blog, some of my past articles such as Oh, You Really Took the Cake 2024 and What It Means to be a Glass Child at 50 could provide some context.
Where the events of 2022 and 2024 impacted me so deeply that recollecting the timeline of every incident is easy, this year, I can only remember the weeks leading up to my final realisation and acceptance of the ineradicable truth—
That I will never truly be seen by the one person I wish would.
And that enough is enough, the balance must be found.
Compassion fatigue is a term my counsellor friend casually mentioned the other day. A psychological parallel to how I described myself as feeling numb—a protection that has wrapped itself around me since 2023.
While the first half of the year saw more of the same issues and emergencies, the true turning point came midway through the year.
Careless, cruel words flung without regard for the hurt they inflicted, without accountability for the poison they spread. I was deeply hurt to hear that my husband’s and my efforts were not only brushed aside but twisted into stories that painted us as cold and uncaring, further cementing the transactional dynamics in my family.
Other unexpected bumps along the way meant that keeping my balance became a priority. And this year, I maintained the equilibrium.
Then there were milestones—three biggies in fact.
One, being plucked out from the dusty annals of TV advertising, featuring the campaign I led to success when I was a young woman of twenty-eight back in 2002, as part of a Channel News Asia SG60 special—a compilation of the best TV ads over the past six decades—was so gratifying. A reminder of what creativity, dedication and teamwork can do, this campaign remains the most memorable in the history of that telecommunications company we worked for.
Second, building my writer website and launching The PBJ Sandwich—my newsletter to the survivors of invisible strife—those of us who carry the weight of others, face constant expectations, and keep showing up without falling apart. Highlighting my newishly-found ethos, Peace, Balance and Joy, I share snippets of the writing life, the music our band makes, and most importantly, little nuggets of mental well-being tips from a lifetime of trying to find peace.
Next, being given the opportunity to play a prominent role in this year’s Beyond the Label event—Singapore’s national anti-stigma campaign run by the National Council of Social Services and TOUCH Community Services—was a key marker in my bid to continue advocating for mental health awareness and to reduce stigma.
Also, my band Buddha in the Balcony released an album Wish My Worries Away this year! This album is truly reflective of the journey we’ve had over the years, and I cannot be more proud of the mastermind behind the music and lyrics, my husband, who has navigated every storm with me. Grateful doesn’t quite cut it.
And finally… I am nearly done with my manuscript—the novel I am writing about growing up the invisible child in the face of my brother’s schizophrenia!
Bye 2025!
I could easily remember 2025 as a painful, stressful year—yet another to add to my decade of drama. But thanks to the way I coped—acceptance, finding joy wherever I could, meditating, focusing on what was important—I was able to perceive it not too badly at all.
So, 2025, I will say goodbye to you with gratitude. May the lessons I have learned keep me in good stead for the year ahead.
