Closing the 2025 Loop

Reflections through creative expression, self-knowledge, and community

What a year, right?

2025 was the year that I granted myself freedom from an unfulfilling career, and rest before the unknown journey ahead. The irony did not escape me that, the moment I granted myself these two wishes, my body entered some kind of shutdown mode.

Even Though!

I’m a hyper-independent adult who struggles to ask for help, let alone admit that she’s having a hard time. Heaven forbid that I use my own mouth to say “I’m unwell”, despite all the times I’ve had to go to the clinic or see a specialist. Because if you know, then you know that it is my enemy that’s unwell, not me.

As I attempt to come to terms with my temporary health limitations, I’ve been just as hell bent on making time for the things that bring me joy. Because the recurring theme of the last few years, year in and year out, is that life will continue to present harder challenges, regardless. I’m trying to get used to walking life’s tightrope while juggling opposing realities.

You know me. I love a good reflection. I love a solid loop. And I love how the end of the year creates that sense of closure. Because, even at its worst, even if I didn’t do all that I set out to do, making it to the end of the year still feels like progression.

One of my favourite ways to reflect on a year was introduced to me a while ago by Small Things called YearCompass¹; a free booklet that helps me review, learn from, and celebrate the past year. There’s a section I love that invites me to reflect on significant events across eight areas: personal life, career, community, creativity, physical health, self-knowledge, habits, and service.

In an attempt to inspire you to take a part of the review for a spin, I thought I’d share my reflections on three significant events from the year, across creative expression, self-knowledge, and community.

I made my first short film:

When it comes to visual storytelling, photography will forever be my first love. But in the last few years, I started craving another way to capture moments—through film; one that allows me to bring multiple elements together like clips, photographs, sounds, colours, and writing, arranged in a way that puts a lot more soul into my stories.

Short-form documenting and editing on my phone was a lot of fun at first. But eventually, I found myself craving longer bodies of work. Plus, being constantly told by the algorithm to make a hook, keep it short, post at least 1x a day… wasn’t a good fit for the storyteller I was trying to become.

So, I started learning Davinci Resolve on YouTube University to feed that craving.

After a couple of months of learning, I felt inspired to edit some iPhone clips from a wonderful beach day with Temi B.. And I’m not going to lie, I’m really proud of what I created. It also kick-started my YouTube Channel, something I’ve been trying to start for ages. So this feat definitely felt like a double win!

Will I make more films? Absolutely! But I also want to photograph. I want to produce. I want to do strategy work. And I want to make more time for community.

I want to do many things, and I’m hoping for the kind of clarity that helps me know what to prioritise, depending on the season. I’m still figuring it all out, but as I said in the video, I’ve taken the leap, and I’m trusting that the net will appear.

My big takeaway here is the importance of finding like-minded collaborators. Sure, I can edit, colour grade, audio mix, shoot, and write, at the most basic level. But why do it all alone, especially when my interests are so expansive?

Moving forward, I plan to put out more bat signals: to build connections, share the workload, and make space for other parts of my life.

A big shout-out to Temi B. for letting me use her first single Falling as the soundtrack, for free!

I went on my longest solo trip:

Last year, I was working 9-5 at a company with unlimited PTO. So you can imagine my surprise when my PTO request (for my birthday trip) was rejected. Not because of any business need, but because my manager at the time said I had taken too many PTO days the year before.

I’m no HR expert, but that didn’t sound right. The year before she referenced was the same year I had lost a family member, and also relocated to Los Angeles from Toronto; I wasn’t given relocation or bereavement time off, it was all counted as part of my unlimited PTO. I thought it was unfair, but I didn’t have the energy to fight it. So, I travelled anyway, and worked a part of it.

It was my first time in Lisbon, Portugal, and I was doing my best to enjoy the sights and sounds of this beautiful city, but I kept feeling weighed down by the frequent, unnecessary work check-ins, and by hauling my 16-inch work laptop around with a heightened sense of caution.

I persisted in making the best of it; I was dancing with strangers in an alley full of block parties, having life-changing conversations with a Priest, eating the most delicious meals, and going on side quests with a Ukrainian couple who knew the coolest underground spots in town.

Then one day, while exploring Lisbon on a city tour bus, I missed a few messages from my boss due to poor reception. This time, it felt like she was setting leg² for me—she never messaged that early in the morning, the request itself was bogus and not time sensitive, yet she pointed out my delayed response.

In that moment, I felt something in my head snap.

I’ve always had this dream of exploring the world. It’s what I spend most of my money on. I would be content wearing the same outfit and eating the same meal every day if it meant more funds for travel. So, to have a job that paid well, but restricted my freedom in such a conniving way over a 5-day PTO request? In that exact moment, I promised myself that my next solo trip would only have the restrictions I placed on it. Ten months later, I quit my job.

When I finally planned my next solo trip, I gave myself three weeks to explore a new country. I wanted a place where I could rest but still dip into the bustle of a big city. I wanted a place rich in culture and full of the kindest people. I wanted delicious food, and I wanted it to be walkable. The way Mexico fit the bill??

Postcard from Mexico City

Postcard from Oaxaca!

My takeaway from this experience was that I don’t joke about my freedom. It might sound like a small reason to change the trajectory of my life, but in retrospect, it felt like this new boss was sent to redirect me towards my purpose. If I’m being real, I was too comfortable, and deep in my heart, I knew that the job wasn’t sustainable for the life I wanted.

My trip to Mexico also showed me that slow travel really suits me. It’s the little things I still reminisce about, like going to a breakfast spot so often that they knew my order by heart by the end of the trip. Aimlessly walking around, chatting up with locals, no time sensitivity, no social media, no laptop in sight.

I have never felt so free in my life. I came back from that trip confident in a way that felt unfamiliar but deeply welcome. Travel has always exposed and expanded me, but slow travel? Allowing my curiosity to lead all my field trips without an external time constraint?

What a lovely gift to myself! I was really proud of myself for making it happen.

I got to spend a lot of time with my community:

In all my years of being outside, I’ve never outsided the way I outsided this year. Not when I was in university and had the summers off. Not in secondary school either.

There is this richness in my experiences that has come from consistently staying curious about myself. Learning what I like, who I like being around, and actually living by that information, while leaving room for surprises. I went to places I love, with people that I adore, and deepened old and new connections along the way. I was so intentional and excessive with being outside that I fully burnt myself out on social time.

Worth it.

My sisters and I took our first girls’ trip to DC to see Beyonce, and I also got the chance to explore the city on foot with Temi K. I had a lovely road trip with my parents. I adventured around Paris with Neye+Ro+Lulu+Rore. Steph, Ash, and I did our annual Toronto Bike tour. Toru and I saw The Cavemen and kept our annual Show Dem Camp Concert tradition. Ese and I attended RibFest, OGT and I made it to the Toronto Art Fair and TIFF. Kachi, Seun and I returned to our college city to revisit some of our favourite memories from 19 years ago. Lajipe and I took two of my nieces to their first circus. I took Chiemela to his first rave at Group Therapy with Dlala Thukzin headlining, my favourite one yet. Joel and I did a photo walk during Caribana, CNE with my family… I mean, could keep going.

And that’s not even counting Pride month celebrations, park and beach hangs, home visits, brunch dates, walk dates, game nights, birthdays, block parties and solo-adventures…I said I was outside.

All that time with my community reminded me how deeply I value it, and how important it is for me to return to community building, even when life doesn’t feel particularly stable.

When I lived in Toronto full-time, I hosted Helendale & Friends. I miss it all the time. I just love spending time with my people and creating spaces where others can feel the same warmth I feel when I am around the right ones.

This reflection created Decompression Station, a mindful bubble I have created to help my community slow down, process more gently, feel more present in our bodies and our environment, and find relief from the constant pace of everyday life. I’ll be kicking things off in January 2026 with a walk club, and the (re)start my reading club.

My biggest takeaway here was to just show up. I was worried about so many things not being right, and many times I tried to convince myself that isolating while locking in might be the answer. Far from it.

I mean, it’s one kind of answer, I guess. Just not mine.

I can’t imagine a life that doesn’t extensively involve time with my community. Our parents are getting older, and life continues to ramp up the stakes. I don’t want to take the time I have left with my family and friends for granted.

YearCompass also has a second part focused on dreaming, planning and preparing for the year ahead. I usually leave that part for my birthday in January. But with the current fluidity in my lifestyle, I want to try something a little different next year.

I’m playing the long game now; I have these really big dreams for myself that stretch beyond a year, and I like the idea of mostly paying attention to what I have the capacity for, one day at a time, to move towards them.

On the other side of that coin, I also want to have fun with it. Not just another checklist measuring how hard I worked, but also how much joy I found in the process.

Exhibit A:

Something fun I just decided to learn in 2026. I’m tired of feeling left out when everyone is dancing to “Candy.”

This is my last log of 2025. It’s been a real pleasure hearing how much you enjoy reading these entries. I can’t express how much lighter I feel, and how much more confident I’ve become as a storyteller, by learning a new way to put words to things while writing to you. Thank you for making me feel heard.

I’ll see you on the other side,

Osẹ̀

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1. YearCompass allows you to pick a language, format, and size. You do not need to print it out; you can work on it digitally!

2. Setting Leg is a Nigerian slang that means setting someone up or creating a situation designed to get someone in trouble or look bad