For no reason in particular, I woke up on New Year’s Day with Miley Cyrus’ Wrecking Ball song stuck in my head. I myself am not particularly a big Miley Cyrus fan so it seemed strange that this song was so stuck. If you are a therapist, you tend to find meaning or look for it at least, in even the most mundane earworms. When I thought about the words to the Wrecking Ball song, seemed fitting.
A Year of Firsts (And Dumpster Fires)
2025 was a year of firsts for me. I started my own private practice, something I never thought I would do, I was also a founder in a company that launched this year.
As with any business venture, there are lots of ups and lots of downs—sometimes on the same day. In many ways, 2025 had a lot of “dumpster fire moments.” It harkened back to the days of 2020 when people were complaining that the year was the problem, if only we could be in 2021, Covid would be over.
So in starting with the New Year, it always comes with some reflection of things that went well and things that went poorly. My instagram feed has been filled with the trend of people talking about their 2025 failures.
When Reflection Turns Into Rubble
For me, I think the wrecking ball is a good metaphor for the new year. There is a hotel near the freeway by my house that was recently demolished. It wasn’t all that old (especially when I think about the 500 year old building I lived in in Italy). And was it a mess! I’m no construction worker but you could see the rubble full of bricks, drywall, beams, and a bunch of other stuff. It was a fairly violent ending to this 5 story Holiday Inn. When talking to my mom about why they might have torn it down, she mentioned the person who bought the land must have something new in mind for the spot.
Wrecking ball moment. What is the land being prepared for? What does the person who decided to tear down the lot want to do with the lot that they felt that the violent, and expensive process was worth whatever was going to be put in its place.
Mid-Demolition Doubt
I think it’s easy to look at the rubble or even ourselves mid project and think, well this just turned out to be a disaster.
I quit my steady job to create my own job and I’m in a space where we don’t know for sure if the business is going to thrive or fall flat on its face. Or I got out of a relationship that wasn’t serving me, but currently I just feel lonely and wonder why I left something that was good enough.
You Go Where You Look
It’s easy to get sidetracked, just like in mountain biking–pretty much the only skill I know is–you will go where to look. So if you’re looking at a rock, instead of missing it, you’ll go right over it. You have to focus on the path you actually want to take. Which is hard because the rock seems scary and more important to focus on than the actual smoother part of the trail. What we, what I, need to look and focus on is the end product. Not the loneliness, not the uncertainty, but the beautiful thing that we’re going to create. I can’t currently imagine what would go in there but it better be on the level of a mini Disneyland. On 2 acres.
Looking Forward Without Rushing the Rubble
So when we look forward to 2026 and say goodbye to 2025–maybe some of you had a great year and are sad to see it go, maybe we can focus a little more on what we’re building versus what was torn down. And maybe… a therapist can help you do just that.
