I always feel weird about new years. I hate the pressure to change your whole life in January - it's unrealistic and silly and sets yourself up to fail and feel even worse about yourself. I find new years resolutions icky. I find regular goal setting/reflecting throughout the year works much better for me. I'm hyper aware of how everything can change in a moment - probably coming from the fact that my cancer is always throwing curveballs, so the idea of planning goals for the next 12 months feels unrealistic...

That said, I'm not planning on sharing any resolutions for next year, but I wanted to publish something on here to close off 2025. As we approach the end of the year, it's only natural to reflect on the past 12 months and well, 2025 has turned out to be quite a significant year for me. I've learned a lot, made some big decisions, I've lost people, I've grieved, I've met new people, I've experienced more of the world and I've had a lot of fun along the way.

Before diving into this year, let me rewind a bit. The second half of 2024 felt like a re-building for me. After a rough hospital admission in June 2024, involving a lot of physical and emotional strain and uncertainty, I had to rebuild my strength (mentally and physically). Then, at the end of 2024, after a couple months of planning, I moved out of my parents' home. Although I'd lived away from my parents while at uni, this felt a way more permanent and significant thing. I have a very good relationship with my parents and actually enjoyed living with them, so I was equal parts sad and excited to move out. But, at the ripe age of 27 it was about time - so, me and my long-term boyfriend took the step and moved in together.

January to March 2025

In February 2025, my dear friend Sukhy died quite suddenly. She'd had breast cancer for a few years, and we knew it wasn't curable, but the end still came far too quickly. She went from having potentially years to live, to a few months, to just days, and there wasn't much time to process it all in the end. I was privileged to be able to see Sukhy just before she died, and as difficult as it was to see her so unwell I will cherish that final goodbye.

Sukhy's death came not long after the death of another close friend in November 2024, Jen, who had Sarcoma. Shortly following this too, we had another close bereavement. It was a lot of grief all in a short space of time.

Sukhy's death in particular shifted a lot for my life.

It felt like a gut-punch culmination of the last 8 years living with cancer. I'd been very engaged in the cancer community (online, through the blog, through charity work, campaigning, volunteering etc) and this felt like a turning point for me. I didn't want to be constantly surrounded by reminders of cancer, I was feeling weighed down by it all. I still need the community, to make me feel less alone in the crazy ride of incurable cancer, but I also need a life separate to cancer. A common thread in a lot of the friends I've made over the years with cancer is their lust for life, for finding the joy in even the small things. Even in her last days, Sukhy laughed, joked, and danced. She found strength to say her goodbyes and 'i love yous' and to make us all laugh, and cry.

Being so close to her during her last days made me reflect on what I wanted from my life - no matter how short or long.

This also came alongside some fairly useful therapy sessions during which I reflected more on my own values.

Raising awareness, campaigning, and helping others going through cancer is very important to me. However, surrounding myself with daily reminders of this evil disease - the thing that already strips me of so much control, that's taken people I love away from me - is not how I want to live. I was feeling drained. I wanted to distance myself from cancer and death, as much as is possible when going through active cancer treatment myself.

I want to spend my life seeking joy, doing things that make me happy, spending time around my friends and family, enjoying nature and the outdoors, meeting new people, experiencing new things and getting outside of my comfort zone. I just want to live and I want all the big happy , sad and mad experiences that come with that.

Moving and adjusting to a new living situation, alongside the big grief I was experiencing, did make me reevaluate aspects of my life. In the Spring of 2025, my relationship with my long-term partner, ended, and he moved out of the flat we'd moved into together a few months earlier.

This in itself felt like another type of grief. Except this time, I was choosing to put myself through the grief - I struggled to grapple with the idea that this was within my control, that I didn't need to put myself (or him) through this pain. I've lost people I've loved and have had no control over that, whereas this time I have full control, and yet I'm still choosing the painful option? However, this was something we both needed. Upon reflection though, neither of us were happy in the relationship, and this big decision, which felt crazy, was for the best.

Cat Burns' newest album, 'How to Be Human', depicts these two types of grief so beautifully. When writing the album, Cat was going through the grief of her grandfather, and then a few months later the grief of a relationship. She points out the weird similarity but difference between the two experiences - with the former, the person is gone forever, you couldn't speak to them if you wanted to; with the latter, the person is still there, you could theoretically still speak with them and be emotionally connected, but you can't.

April to June

After a big breakup (we had been together since I was 19...) there's a huge adjustment period - I hadn't been romantically 'alone' since I was a teenager. I am now a proper(!) grown up (apparently, with a fully formed temporal lobe and everything!) and I know myself much better than I did at 19/20. I'm much more secure, I have a lot more confidence, and I am much more emotionally mature. Apart from my health, my life is fairly stable. This was an opportunity for me to get to know myself again and live purely for me and no-one else.

I don't believe living selfishly means forgetting about other people. You can be selfish and still be a supportive friend/generally good human. 'Selfish' gets a bad rep, but I think putting yourself first just mean having firm boundaries, knowing yourself really well, and being emotionally mature, which actually makes you a better person to be around and a better friend/sibling/child/human. Knowing yourself and speaking up for yourself makes your relationships stronger.

I feel I've become more selfish this year.

In my job, I support people to speak up for themselves, to improve their wellbeing, usually by advocating for themselves in healthcare settings but also in their lives generally. I work an arguably 'selfless' job in the charity sector, but the work revolves around allowing people to be more selfish. Speaking Up for your needs, your values, and communicating this in a way that does not cause harm to ourselves or others, is a skill we all need to learn. The intention is never to harm anyone around you but I do think putting yourself first is an important step to creating a life that feeds your soul. Being in this job is difficult at times but great for helping me reflect on my own behaviours and what aspects of my behaviours might be draining me or negatively impacting my wellbeing.

In January, my sister took off half way across the world backpacking. By June, she'd spent time travelling Thailand, Cambodia, and Laos. I am very close to my little sister and missed her a LOT, so of course I made plans to see her. In June, I flew to meet her in Vietnam.

My cancer treatment involves daily oral chemotherapy and fortnightly immunotherapy infusions in London, so, I can't travel for prolonged periods. My team agreed to give me a week off immunotherapy so I could spend a full 2 weeks in Vietnam.

When you have cancer, booking holidays is nerve-wracking. Finding travel insurance is near-to impossible when you're on active treatment and your cancer is Stage 4, and there's every chance something could rock the boat just before your trip, meaning you have to cancel it. However, I don't let that stop me. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, so they say. Life is for living.

I've never been anywhere in South East Asia so this was a big adventure for me. Vietnam is a crazy, amazing country, but it was mostly nice to spend time with my sister, and experience the life she'd been living the past 6 months. At times it felt bittersweet, as I do wish I could have done some long-term backpacking. Her trips sounded incredible. But mostly, I am just so happy for her and proud of her, and I am grateful that I got to do the trip at all and do everything we did while we were there. And to be honest, after 2 weeks with her, I was ready to say goodbye again (I can say this as I know she was sick of me and my faffing and mess at this point too). She is built for the solo travelling lifestyle and I was definitely cramping her style.

When I got back to London at the end of June, my bestie Dania had moved into the flat, having recently returned from her own travels, and so ensued our summer of fun.

July to September

I always thought, especially after moving in with my ex-partner and it not working out, that living with someone you're already very close with was a bad idea.

You lose the illusion of one another. You start to become flatmates instead of friends and talk about boring things like the weather and what you're having for dinner. You argue over the cleaning and the bins and the washing up. You forget why you liked each other in the first place.

That's obviously the cynic in me talking. But it's okay! Because in this case I was dead wrong. Living with your best friend is GREAT. And living with Dania this year has been a joy.

Summer was fun, and I joined dating Apps for the first time in my life (well, excluding the 24 hours I spent on Tinder at 18 before freaking out and deleting it). Dating and getting to know different people has been a great opportunity to learn more about myself and the company I like to keep. But before you get too excited to hear about my dating life, most of those stories are probably best kept in my own head for now...

I came down with a horrible non-stop cough/chest infection that lasted all through July, August and September, which kept trying to get in the way of my fun. Summer is my favourite time of year so this was a bit of a bummer, but I still managed to do my fair share of gigs, festivals, lido and beach days. It's never all bad.

October to December

Although I was ill through a lot of summer, I was grateful that my cancer was stable and my treatment was all going well. I notoriously start dreading the winter before it begins. Usually, around September. I have really tried the last couple of years to not let myself get into that headspace. I'm worrying about something that's not even happened yet. But I can get bad winter blues and usually entering Autumn gets me down. It's the lack of sunshine, the drop in temperature, the shorter days - I'm not built for the cold. I'm built to frolic around in the sunshine, by a body water.

However, I have felt this autumn has been a period of feeling more settled. I think I finally feel at home in the flat, I joined a gym in September and got back into exercise, and I genuinely feel happy with my day to day life. I am much more resilient these days, AND, importantly, I have ways of coping with the dark and cold (highly recommend a sunrise lamp and keeping up with your vitamin D!)

The end of this year has brought a few more sad moments for me in my personal life. My Grandad died in November, and we had his Funeral in December, which was a fitting send off, but very sad. And then to top off that week, the day after the funeral, my Oncologist called with the news that they were considering pulling me from my Clinical Trial.

Throughout 2025 my cancer has been mostly stable with very little growth. For context, I have about 30 'nodules' (i.e. tumours/sarcoma metastases) across both lungs, which are inoperable and for which there is no cure. However, there has been gradual growth of the nodules over the second half of this year. Very slow and minimal growth, but still growth. Clinical Trial rules are that the patient should be removed once there's been a certain level of progression. I've been kept on the Trial longer already than I should have done. The big and scary thing about this is that there are currently no other clinical trials running for my sarcoma, and there are no other accessible treatments in the UK. There are a couple that could potentially be accessed privately, but for a huge cost.

So, there is a lot of uncertainty as I enter 2026. But that is nothing new to me. Me and my medical team have a sortof plan going forward, and I am not being pulled from the Trial immediately. I am hoping we will find a way to keep me on the trial, which seems to be at least slowing the growth of the cancer, while awaiting a new or better treatment.

What Has 2025 Taught Me?

Another year of big ups and downs, 2025 has been a year during which I feel I'm learning to be fully myself. I've learned that I can experience deep sadness and sit in that, but I can continue to live and enjoy my life in between it all. I know myself better than ever, but we are all work in progresses. I have things I want to work on, and I think continually working on ourselves is another part of living - when we stop doing that, we're not experiencing the full spectrum of life.

Even when joyful moments are clouded with sadness, worries, or grief, it's all just a sign that I'm alive and I'm living life the way I'm supposed to.

I love Cat Burns' sentiment that 'Grief is love with no home' (She talks about this in the Great Company podcast which I'd highly recommend!). I'm lucky to have experienced that love and my life would be lesser if I avoided big feelings.

I have wanted, so many times, since February, to speak to Sukhy. To tell her about the break-up, about my dating life, about my travels and adventures, about my health and treatment updates, to seek her advice, to seek solace from her, to laugh and sing and dance with her. We always want more time with our loved ones after they're gone.

One of my favourite quotes this year has been 'You can't add days to your life, so add life to your days'.

So, I'm going to move into 2026 with that in mind. Live life to the fullest while you're here, live with no regrets, and seek out the things and the people that spark joy in your every day,

Thanks for reading, it has been very therapeutic for me to reflect on the past 12 months so if you get a chance I would recommend it!

Until next time,

M x