It’s the Sunday between Christmas and New Year. In theory it was supposed to be a chilled out, relaxed and refuelling week off work. Instead, due to no fault of anyone, it’s been a week full of chaos, and disruption linked to illness, house moves and life changes. All of which will fade into memory but for now are quite at the forefront of my thinking. Subsequently this means that I am entering 2026 less rested and more discombobulated than I had hoped, feeling very much like a Gemma Correll picture.
For full disclosure, it’s not just 2026 I have entered this way. It feels like every New Year since 2020 I have become less and less likely to greet it with joy and moved more and more towards greeting it with a timid ‘hi’ from behind the curtains. It feels like we’ve all been bitten once too often by providing an optimistic welcome and seeing the resulting 12 months turn into another year of trial and trauma, whilst our resilience is no longer worth writing home about.
Add to this the ever present commentary on all social media platforms, where my professional and social peers list all of their successes, the languages they’ve learnt, the places they’ve been, and the skills they’ve picked up, whilst I rot with unwashed hair and wallow in exhaustion. Life can start to feel hard or like you’re failing in comparison, all of which can make it feel difficult to roll out the red carpet to another New Year.
In order to centre myself and navigate through the triggering level of self proclaimed positivism out there I thought that this year I would not focus on making a list of New Years resolutions, but reflect on what went well in 2025. The aim of this is not to make life worse for others by screaming about my successes, but to remind us all that progress is more impactful than tick boxing, and that the small things count, some days even more than the big things. Fair warning, this post contains a lot of ‘I’s, as it is about how I see the world. I hope that despite this it may still be useful to you all.
My big aim for 2025 was to try and feel more like the 2019 version of me. Someone who had hobbies, friends, and could even find time to spend with them, as well as family. To feel like a whole person, and not just a professional avatar, so this is the benchmark I shall be measuring 2025 success against.
I spent time with Mr Girlymicro and my wider family
This sounds like a basic thing, but I had gotten into the habit of working every weekend, catching up on emails or catching up on work in general. I began to have a lot of anxiety if I didn’t, in case there was something life/job ending between Friday night and Monday morning. This has been the year that I deliberately faced that anxiety and forced myself to work through it by not reacting to it, and allowing it to drive me to work more. It’s meant that I have had to find coping mechanisms. At the moment they could be healthier as they involve doing work adjacent things, such as book writing, but they have enabled me to step away. I have also been forced to accept that things will happen, but that I can’t work 24/7, and attempting to do so was leaving me in a very unhealthy place.
The payoff for this has been being able to spend more time with my family. Now, some of this is because Mummy Girlymicro and my brother moved in with us (hence the Xmas house moving chaos as they moved out) but a lot of it was me prioritising spending time on non-work. Mr Girlymicro and I have been able to have, at least, protected movie time on a Sunday, and we’ve even managed some date nights. I need more of this in 2026, just spending time together is healing and I can’t wait to spend more and improve on my 2025 efforts.
I managed to finish a non-work based project (Mr Girlymicro would scream work adjacent at this header)
Talking about that work based distraction and anxiety management, I decided to do something for me, based on my passion. Now, I acknowledge that deciding to write a book in 4 months may not be the healthiest of anxiety managing techniques, but it enabled a fire break, where I could focus that anxiety on something productive and was sufficiently distracting to allow a re-focus away from work. It was also nice to be able to visualise something productive coming out of that anxiety, seeing the word count increase little by little. A lot of my day job is responsive or constantly writing and changing written guidance, it can sometimes be hard to see what you’ve achieved at the end of a day, week, month, and so to see a book come together from a concept felt incredibly validating.
(if you haven’t seen the book, take a look at the Girlymicrobiologist book page, or the Amazon webpage for more details)
The other opportunity that writing the book gave me, was that it started, alongside spending time with family, to allow me to form a new identity. I’ve been in work mode for 5 years, and have become so locked in that I almost couldn’t remember the pre-pandemic me. Developing a project that wasn’t directly linked to work allowed me to ask questions like ‘what brings me joy?’ and ‘what message is it that I have to share?’, ‘what can I add?’, ‘what can I do to make the world easier/better?’. This book on a small scale was the answer to those questions. More to follow though, this was a starter for ten.
I acknowledge that I will not return to who I was before
A key part of building a new identity is acknowledging change and letting yourself grieve for your previous one. 2025 was the year that I finally acknowledged that those of us who worked through the pandemic, lost loved ones and colleagues, probably do carry a certain level of trauma with us. I probably don’t see the world the same way now as I did before. The circle of friends that I hold close is much smaller than before, and they have seen all the sides of me. They are the people I trust to always take a 4am call from me. To let me come and crash at their place with 30 minutes notice, just because I need to escape. They are my ride or dies, and I value them so much.
I think I will be sad for the loss of some of the innocence I had before the pandemic, some of the faith and trust in systems. I think I will continue to miss the naivety. I believe I have emerged on the other side better at my job however, and for those I’m close to a better friend. I see the change as an opportunity to re-define who I want to be and where I want to go. It’s hard to know how much of this is truly pandemic, or just hitting peri-menopause and realising I need to be better at setting boundaries. Either way, although I have moments where I reminisce about hopeful past me, I think I am a better person for the journey. I still have hope, it just lands differently.
I spent time focusing on re-connection
Having said that my world had grown fairly small over the past 5 years, and my social circle really limited to those who I knew love all the sides of me, I’m fortunate in my pre-pandemic life to have had a wide circle of lovely people who occupied all kinds of different hobby/interest spaces. All of whom challenged me, cheered me, and helped me grow as a human being. It felt important to saunter back into those spaces, especially as they would be useful in discovering the new me.
I did things that are probably normal for most of you reading. I went out for drinks. I met people for dinner. I even returned to conventions and shared spaces, which have been triggering for me having spent so much time avoiding crowds for the last several years. I remembered that, although these activities and spaces can make me feel anxious at times, the pay off is so very worth it. I’m not sure I will be returning to hosting afternoon tea for 30+ people any time soon, but I’m certainly up for small group activities and have committed to not defaulting to no or an excuse. I also discovered that many lovely people had kept a door open for me to return, and that was a really meaningful thing to discover.
I returned to some pre-pandemic activities
On the back of this re-connection, I also went back to some of the activities that I used to take for granted pre-pandemic. I went to a literary festival, I went to science events, and I even returned to a gaming convention. These events reminded me of how much joy I find in learning, being intellectually curious and exploring. They reminded me of why I became a scientist in the first place, because even when not science related they reminded me of the joy of being inspired by others.
Being at a gaming convention was both so much scarier, and so much more fun than I remembered. It was lovely to take off my head, my identity, my thought processes, and step into those of someone else. I played a modern day police office in the Rivers of London universe, a teenage aristocrat in musketeers France, and a political leader in 1930s Europe. I dealt with murders, magic, and revolution, and not a single virus or infection was in sight. The experience reminded me that it was OK to prioritise both breaks and escapism, and of the benefits they can lead to in terms of reflection and re-fuelling.
I gave myself permission to feel
Speaking of gaming, it’s a great sandbox to explore emotions and feelings in response to stimuli for you character. It’s a safe space and time limited, so anything you dive into can be dropped at any point, and you will move onto a new character in 4 hours anyway. Life isn’t quite like that and exploring emotions, be they positive or negative, can take its toll. In 2025 I specifically gave myself permission to feel. To stop saying ‘I’m fine’ to those close friends and family who I know would be there come what may.
Sometimes the best way forward is through, and I found that being in responsive mode for so long at work had meant I had stopped processing a lot of the emotional side of what had gone on. I’m normally pretty optimistic and I know that things will be fine, but in 2025 I gave myself permission to acknowledge that the route to fine sometimes sucks, and that that is OK. I reminded myself that it’s OK to just acknowledge the moment and have a good weep, before getting it together and moving on.
BTW it appears that Taylor Swift songs are my favourite weeping companions, for both sad and happy tears, according to Spotify in 2025.
I started to try and look forward
Acknowledging that I have work to do in my emotional processing also enabled me to start to look forward, rather than being stuck in a loop. It enabled me to think about what I want, and where I want to be. What fuels me rather than draining me. I am fortunate enough to have the most amazing husband who will always pick me up, dust me off, and put me back together. So these considerations were mostly work related.
I know it’s a shocker, at least it was a surprise to me, but I’m getting older. I turned 46 this year, which is no age, but as I’m planning to retire and explore new directions at 55 that is an ever shrinking time period to make change and have impact. Don’t worry, this blog, my writing, public engagement and microbiology are going nowhere. I still want to work post NHS retirement, but maybe not the 12 hour days that add to my current exhaustion.
A dear colleague passed away just before Christmas and that brought this message home to me even more strongly. We can often approach all aspects of our lives as if we have all the time in the world. The reality is that that is never true, and a lot less of it is in our control than we believe. So, I’m giving some time to thinking what is on my list to accomplish and trying to make sure that it doesn’t just drift because of competing demands. This is a newer focus, but one that will definitely continue in 2026.
I expended effort in trying to find my joy
This has all sounded a bit bleak but the truth about authenticity is that includes sharing all aspects of the truth. even those that are not full of pep. The reality is not as bleak as all that, by doing this hard work I have been able to find true unadulterated joy in a number of moments in 2025. Joy I haven’t been able to feel for a long time. Joy so strong that it made me cry happy tears. Joy so real it reminded me why it is important to connect and follow your passions.
The move from survival mode into engaging with life has not been an easy one. There is still a lot of work to be done, and space for recovery needed. The joy however reminds me of why all of that work is worth it, and at a time when working within the NHS can feel even more challenging than during the pandemic, that joy is needed. So give yourself the gift of compassion you would give others. Offer yourself the space you need to heal, and then be brave about stepping into the world as the new (possibly wiser) version of you. I hope the rest of 2025 is kind to you, and that you too will be able to find joy as we enter 2026.
All opinions in this blog are my own
If you are finding this time of year difficult, and you are in the UK, here are some contact details that I hope may help. No one should need to struggle on their own:
Girlymicro 