Every year I try to stick to a Yearly Theme, inspired by the wonderful podcast Cortex . The idea of themes is that they’re a more forgiving and powerful version of a new year’s resolution. Over the past few years I’ve done a variety of themes:
- 2021: Year of Learning
- 2022: Year of Adulting
- 2023: Year of The Body
- 2024: Year of Structure
My dedication to these has varied a lot over the years, but nonetheless they are a useful framing mechanism for how I think about each year and how I set goals. My theme for this year, 2025, began as the Year of Recovery, meant in the sense of recovering from numerous setbacks and challenges in 2024 (that “structure” I had sought to build last year basically didn’t happen). My original thinking with embarking on the Year of Recovery was to have a year in which I prioritize rest, rejuvenation, and self-care. It would give me a chance to recover from the work-related burnout I experienced in 2023 and 2024.
But this year had other plans for me.
Now that we’re roughly three months in, 2025 has felt like one of the busiest and constantly evolving years I’ve experienced in a while. While I’ve found some time and space for recovery and rest, my focus has actually been pulled in a lot of new and unexpected directions. Most notably, in February I was presented with an opportunity to join an exciting project at work in which I’ve learned a ton but also had to work at a harder and faster pace than I’ve been used to in previous roles. In many respects it has felt like the start of a new era in my career, one in which I’m more autonomous, more independent, and more plugged-in to the broader culture of software engineering. I’ve found myself recreationally learning about new programming topics, hacking away at this personal website with a renewed vigor, and consuming lots of content about software development.
Beyond these changes to my day-to-day work, I also made the decision to come out as transgender to my colleagues at work. This was a choice that was inevitable but also feels monumental and like the start of a new phase of my life. As the people closest to me know, I’ve been transitioning slowly. I started HRT in February of 2023, so I just passed the two-year mark, but I knew that the physical changes I sought would take quite a while to become visible and a combination of social anxiety and self-doubt kept me from coming out to many people outside my inner-circle. By deciding to come out at work, I have largely eliminated the feelings of leading a “double life” of my pre and post transition selves. This is probably a worth a standalone blog post in the future to explore even further, but in short, it feels great to have nearly all the people I see on a day to day basis call me “Gabby.”
On the heels of coming out at work, I am planning to take advantage of the Trans Day of Visibility (TDOV) later this month to “fully” come out to the various groups of people in my life I haven’t yet told about my transition. This includes my extended family, various high school/college friends, and various other people in my personal and professional circles. I’m planning to use this very blog as a vehicle for coming out with an announcement post on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and wherever else I can think to post it.
Given these substantial changes in my professional and personal lives, it no longer feels fitting to deem this the ”Year of Recovery.” I will be the first to admit that I’m sometimes bad at slowing down and resting. While rest is important, the various new pursuits I’m undertaking are important as well. I am getting shit done and feeling great about it. Therefore, I’m shifting my theme to The Year of Transition.
Beyond the obvious gender of it all, this year has had (and will continue to have) significant career transitions for me. I will also (ideally), be undergoing various other transitions:
- someone who seldom exercises —> someone with a consistent gym routine
- someone who is very plugged into the news —> someone who is more mindful about what content I allow in
- someone who is afraid to ask for help —> someone who acknowledges that I can’t do everything and graciously accepts help from others
- And maybe more - we’ll see!
As I embark on The Year of Transition for these remaining ~9 months of 2025, I really have no idea what my life will look like on January 1, 2026. I do know, however, that it will look very different than it does today.