At the time, it was no secret to anyone around me that Bloomberg was top of the list of companies I wanted to work at as a graduate. First of all, the name. Bloomberg. It held weight. Everyone knows about Bloomberg and with that comes prestige. Working there felt like it came with a certain level of credibility. Then there is the company culture. Everyone I knew who had worked there had spoken about their smart colleagues, an inclusive team and an environment where you were trusted to give valuable input. But the most personal and important thing was the company’s values. Bloomberg care a lot about giving back; 85% of their annual profits go towards philanthropic causes driven by Bloomberg Philanthropy. Why did this matter to me? I see great value in giving back where one can and I saw a lot of value in working for a company with values that were aligned with my own.

In Dec 2022, after two unsuccessful applications in previous years, I sat on the floor in the corner of the university computer labs as I was given the details of the full-time offer over the phone. I was listening but I was not really listening. I was too distracted in delight. I knew that one of my dreams had come true.

Fast forward three and a half years later and I have said goodbye to the position that I once dreamed of. Why? This article is a reflection on the whole journey to get here.

Phase 1: seeds of doubt

It was September 2025 and I had been in the team for almost two years. I experienced a lot of growth in that time and was determined to continue on that trend. To do this, I had been taking on different responsibilities outside of my day to day duties.

One such responsibility was representing the team in the quarterly planning process while my team lead was on holiday. In short, this is the process of deciding which projects the group should work on in the upcoming quarter. To help decide, I would have to reasonably estimate the effort certain projects would require. On the surface, this sounded like a great thing to get experience in. Project scoping means I would need to build an understanding of the business context, the existing system and more. Doing this effectively involves asking the right questions in a setting where answers are not clearly defined. This felt like a step up from what I was used to, where the answers would already be provided in a well-defined task I would then implement.

In reality, I ended up disliking the whole process and my involvement in it. There were many reasons for this and at the end of it, I was certain that I did not want to do more project scoping and refinement in the future. Along with this realisation came a question I asked myself for the first it in a long time:

“If not this, how do I want my career to progress?”

This was an uncomfortable question because of the quiet doubt that came with it. Until this point, I had not given my long term career progression any thought. I had accomplished my university dream of working at Bloomberg and that was enough. Surely. Right? Even if I asked myself this question, I had no idea how to meaningfully answer it. What did I do when faced with this uncomfortable doubt? I tried to ignore it, thinking it would figure itself out with time.

It did not figure itself out with time. Over the next few months (until the end of 2025), seemingly random events in my work and personal life would remind me of the question surrounding the future of my career. In one case, completing a personality test as part of a training course made me doubt whether my strengths were aligned with my current role. In another example, a university friend asked me if I was looking to change jobs, suggesting that the role he was in was a great fit for the person he knew me to be.

No matter how much I tried to ignore these thoughts, they kept on reappearing. And as 2026 started, I knew I could no longer ignore them. I started paying attention to the seed of doubt.

Phase 2: facing myself in the mirror

How do I want my career to progress?

To begin answering this question truthfully, I had to accept the possibility that what I once desired for my career may not be what I desired now. This was difficult. Doubting my current role felt like I was being ungrateful for the opportunity that I had worked so hard to get at university. But as I began to accept this shift, I started looking at what was causing the doubt. Understanding my current position would help me better articulate what was important for me moving forward.

Eventually, a messy combination of talking to people, reading articles and reflection led me to identify a few things that I wanted to prioritise in the next stages of my career.

A different industry

I had joined a team that contributed to a financial product and understanding how our clients use this product helped me build a better understanding of the financial world. However, I was never tied to this industry. I thought that exposure to how software is used in different industries would prove to be beneficial in the long run, allowing me to view problems from a unique perspective and adapt to changing scenarios (thank you David Epstein for driving this point home in “Range”, a book I was reading at the time).

Communicating ideas

Around this time, a common question I grappled with was:

Where am I uniquely placed to provide value in my career?

There were a few drivers to this. For one, I had been reflecting on my strengths and the kinds of challenges that I naturally lean towards tackling. On top of this, I was considering what was next for the role of the software engineer more broadly, having observed my colleagues become more productive with the rise of Claude Code and Copilot.

As I reflected, a skill that I wanted to sharpen to provide unique value was the ability to communicate a concept that is hard to understand to someone who needs to understand it. This is a skill that

1. I have built over the years (through pursuits like writing, podcasting and more),

2. I wanted to build further as it felt aligned with my personality and

3. is important to grow for any modern-day software engineer becoming more productive with AI

Understanding and seeing the impact your work has

What did I dislike about project scoping and planning process? It was not the act of project scoping itself but rather not knowing why we were choosing between the projects that we were. This is a typical “software engineer in a big company” problem. There are several layers between you and the rooms where high level direction is defined as well as the clients that use the software that you help build.

I found myself increasingly frustrated with being handed the high level goal by other people and being sheltered from the impact that projects you contribute to have.

(As a disclaimer, there is nothing inherently wrong with being a software engineer in a big company, especially when weighed up with other benefits)

These three points formed a sort-of-checklist that I referred to when considering my options moving forward. I could have

1. stayed where I was,

2. leant on internal mobility at Bloomberg to move to another engineering team,

3. transitioned to a software engineering role at another company or

4. pivoted to another role at another company.

Phase 3: making assumptions and validating them

Knowing what I wanted to prioritise moving forward made it clear to me that a change in role made the most sense. What role I would pivot into was something to figure out, but I started with a role that I had some familiarity with- the forward deployed engineer (FDE).

The FDE role, over-simplified, is a hybrid of a software engineer and a consultant. They are still technical and contribute heavily to the software implementation process to address a customer’s needs. However, they also interact heavily with these customers to understand said needs, scoping out requirements and acting as a point of contact throughout the customer’s interaction with the solutions provider.

From the little I knew about the role, typically found in smaller software companies, it seems to tick all of my boxes.

• Working at a different company meant I could decide to expose myself to a different industry. This was particularly true for software consultancies like Palantir (the father of the forward deployed engineer role), where you work on different projects over time.

• Being a point of contact for the customer meant translating technical implementation to non-technical people and non-technical user requirements to technical design. The art of communication is crucial in doing this effectively.

• A smaller company usually means having more agency and being part of shaping the company’s direction. The lack of processes and structure gives one more freedom to experiment and pursue ideas that they think will be impactful.

But even these reasons relied on my assumption of the role. This assumption was something that needed validating. There were two main ways I gathered information to address unknowns.

Talking to FDEs (and ex-FDEs)

Fortunately, I knew a few people (mainly from university) who had been an FDE at some point in their career. I gave them context, explained what I was thinking and asked them questions like

• What does your day to day look like?

• What are your work hours and how consistent / stable are they?

• In comparison to a typical SWE, how technical is the role?

• Are there any non-obvious differences between being an FDE where you work vs being an FDE at another company?

Actually applying to FDE roles

At the time, applying to FDE roles did not seem like an information gathering exercise. Instead, I thought the path was a path of sequential steps to carry out in order.

Step 1: Gather information to get full clarity in your decision to transition roles

Step 2: Prepare for interviews

Step 3: Start applying to companies once you are fully prepared.

Thinking I needed to be at a certain level of certainty and preparation before sitting any interview made me hesitate in applying for any role at any company. I overcame this barrier by lowering the expectation I had for my first application (shout out to my life coach George for helping me shift my mindset). In hindsight, even sitting that one interview was crucial in understanding how I felt about the FDE role. Not only did I get to talk to more FDEs but the interviews gave me an insight into what companies value in an applicant for an FDE role.

As I had more conversations and sat more interviews, my doubts around transitioning role started to ease. It did not completely go away. It still has not gone away. But friends understood my thought process and could see how the FDE role could suit me. I enjoyed having to think on my feet during interviews and working on vague problems where one had to seek out more information to tackle the problems effectively. As the doubt eased, confidence in my decision started to grow.

Two months after submitting my first application (first in ~3.5 years), I received an offer to work as an FDE at a start up. At this point, I had (enough) faith in my decision to transition to this kind of role and learning more about the company made me excited to be part of their mission and the culture they have cultivated. This excitement was the signal I used to know that the time was right to take this new opportunity. I have deliberately kept this part of the story brief because I think the shift in mindset I had undergone to apply for an external role was more important than the application processes themselves.

It is hard to fully capture the shape that this journey took. This article can make it seem as if event A led to realisation B which led to action C. In reality, the story to get to where I am now- writing this article having left my job in the pursuit of a career transition- was anything but linear.

Perhaps this is indicative from the time it took to get here. Surrounding the honest reflections and steps of progress were feelings of doubt, hesitation in making decisions and a profound difficulty to accept that what was once my dream was no longer my dream. If I am honest, I could still be wrong about this whole thing. I may discover, a year or so from now, that this move was not what I thought it would be. But I still feel a sense of peace knowing that I listened to my gut (after trying to ignore it and failing to do so) and took the step that I feel is the right one at this current moment.

“When you hang out with your friends, can you actually call it a friendship? You say to someone ‘let’s catch up’ and every six months you go to dinner or something. You ask the same questions- ‘How are you?’, ‘How’s work?’, ‘Still in a relationship?’, ‘Still hitting the gym?’. The evening ends with ‘Yeah we should do this again, let’s not make it six months next time.’ Rinse and repeat. Are you actually their friend or just hearing about each other’s lives without any memories being built between the two of you?”

A few weeks ago, I received this message on the WhatsApp group chat I have with a few friends from university. He was reflecting on the nature of his own friendships becoming what he called “catch up friendships”.

Coincidentally, this was something I had also been thinking a lot about. After graduating university, I noticed that everybody’s lives started to look very different from each other’s. Gone are the days where you could all share the reality of being a student. Now one of you is working hard on a startup. Another is settling down with their partner. Someone is travelling the world. Someone else is continuing to study. You get the idea.

With everyone doing such different things, you naturally see each other a lot less. Once upon a time, you saw each other every day. Now you have the joy of performing calendar gymnastics, trying to find that one evening in three months time where you are all free to meet for dinner. In my eyes, this transition is what has led to the emergence of “catch up culture” amongst adults. Friendships become less about making memories with each other and more about keeping up to date with each other’s lives.

This was something that unsettled me for a while. I was feeling increasingly distant from my friends that I, once, felt so close to. The worst part of it was that it felt seemingly inevitable; something to get used to and live with as I grew as an adult.

The message from my friend made me and the rest of us think. Do we just have to get used to our friendships being “catch up friendships”? Are they inherently bad and something to change? What even is “more” than a catch up friendship and how can we make more space for that in our (already busy) lives? We all gave our thoughts. What follows is a summary of the discussion that we had.

Is a catch-up friendship a bad thing?

On the surface, a friendship that lives through once-every-six-month catch ups can feel “less than”. Less important. Less valuable. Less meaningful. This feeling is particularly common if you once felt a strong bond with that person; a bond created through spending a lot of time together, experiencing memorable moments together and each learning more about the other person.

Despite getting upset from this feeling myself, I realised that a new or existing friendship being in “catch up mode” does not devalue it. Part of growing up is accepting that it is impossible to go beyond the surface with everyone you know. In some cases, other people are just busy with their own stuff and can only make time for that once-every-six-month catch up. The same probably applies to you. It certainly applies to me. And that’s OK.

But does being in “catch up mode” with your close friends make growing apart inevitable? In my experience, not necessarily. Building a bond with a friend can also build the trust that that bond is present even if you see each other less often. This is by no means an absolute truth; people change (including you), situations change and the foundations that a friendship was once built on may no longer apply as time passes. However, the friendships that last are the ones where this trust remains as you both continue to grow as individuals.

What if I want to do more than just catch up with my friends?

I want to be updated on what is going on in my friends’ lives. That is certainly important to me. However, sometimes I want to hear less about their life and instead do something to be a part of their life. Here are two things that I am trying to do in my life to help with this.

Friendship rituals

A friendship ritual is quite simple- something that you do with a friend/a group of friends on a regular basis and is planned beforehand. Planning ahead of time means that other events in your life fit around it rather than the other way around. Examples are:

• Wednesday Waffle: Every Wednesday, everyone in the group sends a voice note of what is going on in their life. This simple message once a week keeps everyone in the loop and updated. When you do meet up (which may not be often), often the “catch up” portion of the conversation is shortened because you are all already quite caught up.

• Holidays with friends: The truth is that you can only catch up with someone for so long. Spending an extended period of time with friends creates room for everyone to be an active member of each other’s lives instead of merely hearing about their lives. With this dynamic, memories are bound to be made and bonds strengthen. Note: I have found that the quality time spent with the group matters more than the holiday’s destination or itinerary.

Being intentional (and sometimes intentionally unintentional)

The easiest way to catch up with someone is over dinner after work, especially those who work in the city (after all, you both need to eat at some point!). While there is nothing wrong with a good dinner with a friend, consider if you could spend that evening doing something else. Do an activity you both enjoy or used to enjoy. Try something new. Do something that one of you is experienced in and the other is not. Whatever you choose, make it about experiencing something together rather than simply engaging in life updates.

Counterintuitively, doing the opposite can also open the opportunity for meaningful interactions. I meet up with two really good friends roughly once a month and we go on a walk in the local area. No activity, no plan, nothing material for us to focus on. Instead, we let time pass and we fill it as we see fit (while getting in some steps). I always enjoy our walks because the conversation quickly moves away from being about any of our lives and moves towards random things we are thinking about. The discussions always end up being interesting and thought-provoking (at least to us). Personally, knowing I can have these kinds of conversations with them is what makes me feel close to them. But one of the reasons I know this is because there is rarely any pressure to use the time we spend together “well”. In short- sometimes being deliberately unplanned is what ends up creating the memories I hold onto the most.

In the end, maybe the question isn’t whether “catch up friendships” are good or bad, but whether we are willing to be intentional about the kind of friendships we want to have. Life does get busier. People do drift into different paths. And yes, sometimes a dinner every six months is all that fits. But within that reality, there is still room to choose; choose to create rituals, choose to share experiences, choose to show up in ways that go beyond simply exchanging updates. Because at some point, what we will remember will not be the updates. It will be the moments. And the moments only come if we actively make space for them.

Disclaimer: this article is expressing my take on a concept introduced to me by . Nathaniel- if you read this, thank you for introducing this to me and for all of the content you put out there.

My girlfriend once said that I have a very “thinky” personality. From the name of this publication, it is no secret that she is not wrong- I think a lot about a lot. All sorts of thoughts and emotions run around in my mind at a speed that can sometimes be hard to keep up with. The challenge of having clarity in what I am thinking and expressing these thoughts articulately is one that I find important to tackle but it can be tricky.

There are some fairly obvious reasons that explain why this is such a challenge and its personal importance to me. In a world where you can be exposed to an incomprehensible amount of information at any one time (through social media, news on your phone, living in a busy city, etc), it is becoming increasingly easy to consume, consume, consume without taking time to pause and observe how what you consume sits with you. This is a trap I, like many others, have fallen into and it has left me overwhelmed, compromising my ability to think for myself. In recent years and months, I have tried my best to reclaim this ability, making an active effort to pause and organise the clutter in my mind. I almost see one’s ability to do this well and articulate their thoughts clearly as a sign of their emotional intelligence- something I have come to admire in certain peers and well known podcasters and speakers that I pay attention to.

But how does one go about processing their thoughts? A few months ago, I came across the “internal-external cycle” in Nathaniel Drew’s YouTube video How To Organise Your Thoughts: A Simple Guide - a two stage process that has shaped how I answer this question in my own life.

The internal

The first stage involves taking time to privately unravel thoughts that you capture. In a world of busyness and constantly running from A to B, pausing seems trivial but can be difficult in reality. What connects one thought to another is sometimes not a bold straight line but rather one that is faint and squiggly. There are three things that I keep in mind to help facilitate this process.

Embracing moments of boredom: when one is hit with so many inputs at any given second, it is easy for the brain to become overly stimulated. This lowers the volume of your own thoughts, making it harder to recognise the signals that they are giving you. If you cannot hear this, the challenge of organising your thoughts becomes virtually impossible. This is why I take out time to let my mind wander. This usually involves a daily walk where I am not listening to anything (podcasts, music, voice notes from friends, etc) and just taking in my surroundings. It sounds boring and that is exactly the point. We need more of those moments to let our mind get back to a default state where it has the space to ideate and process.

Having a mode of capture: Through intentional moments of boredom and random moments in my day, interesting ideas come to the surface. The problem is that they are fleeting and incredible easy to forget if they remain a figment of your mind. This is why it is crucial to have something that you can use to get these thoughts out of your head in the moment. For me, I simply use the Notes page on my phone since it is usually easy to hand, even in crowded spaces like a busy train. I know some who use voice notes so that they can be more expressive and others who prefer the more analogue approach of a pocket journal. It does not really matter as long as you have a way of getting it out of your head. What you are capturing does not need to make sense either. Nathaniel says it best when he mentions “delaying the editing process as much as possible”- giving up the tendency to shape what you noting down and rather just taking it down in its most raw form.

Weekly journalling: Eventually, one must take out time to make sense of their thoughts, prepared with the material built up in their chosen mode of capture. Right now, this personally takes the form of a weekly journalling habit where I reference my note of captured thoughts that week. I have found that using a physical notebook instead of something digital forces me to slow down and gives me more freedom to use the page in a way that I feel is the most appropriate. Instead of abiding to the perfect lines on a Word Doc, I can mind-map, make random connections between different points in the page and come back to points noted down earlier on, respecting the lack of linearity in my train of thought.

The external

Once you have made progress in organising your thoughts, it is time to “externalise” them- expressing what you are thinking and getting feedback from others. This can be as simple as talking to your family, friends or loved ones or more public expression, from vlogging and YouTube to podcasting and writing. I recently read ’s Substack note where she mentions the idea of “thinking in public” which summarises this perfectly.

Putting coherent words to what you are thinking by speaking, writing or video creation helps you make more sense of it. We all know of a time where we were confused about something and it suddenly clicks once we start talking about it- the connections you seek to make continue to be made as you express them. Not only this, but hearing how other people respond to what you share gets you out of your own head and exposes you to other perspectives. I find that it is this exposure that sometimes drives the evolution of your thought patterns and perspectives over time.

Again- how one shares their ideas does not really matter, with each approach having their own benefits and challenges. Having a conversation with someone you trust (ideally in person) allows you to receive feedback in real time, not only through how they respond but the questions they ask and how they act. Alternatively, writing articles like this on Substack means that I put myself through the task of seeking enough clarity to coherently write about what I think (for others to read and understand). On the flip side however, how much feedback you receive and the extent of this feedback is something you have less control over (especially in my case since I have just started and less people read my content).

It is a cycle for a reason

The switch between internal and external is not something that should ever stop, nor it is something that needs to be so rigid in structure. You are allowed to be making sense of things internally whilst also testing out ideas in the real world (in fact, this is encouraged). It is a continuous work in progress for anyone ranging from the average Joe to the world’s most respected thinkers and philosophers. And while it is not easy to organise the mess in our heads, it is important. This is the origin of all of the great ideas that have impacted lives in the past and present. The “internal-external cycle” is just a framing for anyone struggling to tackle this challenge.

At school I was interested in many different subjects and activities. I had always been fairly strong at STEM subjects like maths and the sciences, but also enjoyed learning about different areas of the world through studying multiple languages. I loved being active and playing sport (and still do today) but also embraced creativity and artistic expression. Given all of this, narrowing down 3-4 subjects at A Level and not having a clear idea of what I wanted to do after school proved to be quite challenging. Below, I share how I ended up deciding to study Computer Science at university and what I would do differently if I were to do it all over again.

PS: I know that there many different students out there, each with their own circumstance. What I share below may not resonate with everyone but, I hope, could be insightful to those who do relate.

My journey into Computer Science

During Year 12, my strength in STEM subjects made me assume that I wanted to do some form of engineering at university. In line with this, I sought out books, courses and summer school opportunities to get more engineering experience that would form the bulk of a strong personal statement.

Unfortunately, none of these pursuits stuck. It would take me weeks to read a few pages of an electronic engineering book, and I told myself that I would complete that mechanical engineering online course but did not get very far. It was an engineering summer school at the end of Year 12 - about 3-4 months before I was meant to submit my UCAS application - that made me realise what I probably should have realised well before. I did not want to study engineering at university.

I started to panic. I was meant to start on my UCAS application soon and I still did not know what I wanted to apply for. However, eventually I stepped back and asked myself the following question.

What made me realise that engineering (of any form) was not the course I wanted to study?

The answer? I was more interested learning about the theory of why technology worked rather than just practically using tools without that theoretical understanding. This did not clarify what I wanted to study at university, but gave me something that I could lean on when making future decisions.

The next part of the story came by pure chance. I was speaking to a friend, asking him what he was thinking of studying.

“Computer Science” he said.

My response?

“What is Computer Science?”

His attempt to explain what this degree involved was enough to pique my interest and do my research. And, lo and behold, it seemed like I was looking at the course that would teach me the “theory of how fundamental technology works today”- exactly what I was looking for. I took the leap of faith and focused my UCAS application around studying Computer Science. 6 months later, I received an offer to study CS at Imperial College London, where I ended up studying for the next 4 years.

What I would tell my younger self

Looking back on this journey, it amuses me how messy it was. I stumbled upon CS almost by accident and I spent a lot of my time in Year 12 overwhelmed and confused about what was next for me after school. If I am honest with myself, I think there were some things I did well (perhaps accidentally) and some things I wish I did differently.

Pick subjects you enjoy

At A-Level, I picked Maths, Further Maths, Physics and Art (with French narrowly missing out). This decision was made by paying attention to my strengths but also acknowledging a personal desire to use my brain in different ways throughout the school week. This ended up being a very good decision that I would certainly make again if I could go back in time.

I am aware that not everyone does 4 subjects at A-Level but there is good reason for this: if you are applying for university, most degree offers only require 3 subjects. With that said, if you do decide that you want to take a fourth subject, you have the liberty of picking virtually anything you want. It can be something similar to your other 3 or something wildly different (like Art in my case). You have almost complete freedom.

Stepping back though, even if you pick 3 subjects at A-Level, focusing on where your strengths lie and what you enjoy is usually a good thing to do. The model of tailoring A-Level subjects to what you want to do post-school assumes that you know what you want to do post-school. If you do not, making thoughtful decisions on what you think you would enjoy studying at A-Level and embracing the freedom when you have it might be a place to start.

Following your curiosity ends up explaining itself

A lot of students ask me something along the lines of:

”I want to do X after school. What are the books, courses and things I should be doing outside of my school work to best prepare me for applying to X?”

While this is an important question to ask, this approach seems similar to preparing for an exam. As long as you follow all the items in a standard list of things that are “good to do”, you will be fine. The problem is that no such standard “curriculum” exists in the same way that a curriculum for an A-Level subject exists. In addition, as mentioned before, asking this question assumes that you have an idea of what “X” is for you.

Asking this question is still beneficial. Not to receive the “standard playbook” that you should follow to a T but rather to get inspiration for the kinds of resources at your disposal. What one chooses to consume, learn about and get involved in should be driven by their own curiosity, not (necessarily) because someone told them they must do so.

What piques your interest and what does not is crucial information worth paying attention to. In my example, I consumed information about engineering because I felt like I “had to” (because I thought that that is what I wanted to study at uni). The fact that this did not excite me should have been a signal to reconsider if engineering was for me (and it eventually was but the signs were there from much earlier).

Going through a journey of genuinely pursuing what you find interesting, consciously asking questions about what you learn and then learning more to answer those questions is beneficial for any student. For those who know what is next for them post-school, this approach ends up telling a powerful story of your motivation in a way that seamlessly flows from one book to another course (the kind of story that one is looking for in any kind of application). For those who do not know, discovering what lights you up will put you at a place where you can make a decision based on actual evidence and things you have tried (actually trying is the best way to know what is for you and what is not).

Being open with your post-school options

I went to an academically driven school, which made me think that studying at a top-performing UK university was the default next step after A-Levels. There is nothing wrong with this - I did end up studying at Imperial and I am very grateful for all the support I received at school during this process. However, I wish I understood more about the range of different options that were available to me.

University is not the only option after school. For example, degree apprenticeships are becoming increasingly popular, offering benefits such as industry experience from early on. If you decide that you want to go to uni but are having a hard time figuring out what you want to study, learn more about all the options available to you. Many universities in Scotland, US, etc. do not force you to pick one subject straight away (often following a major/minor structure with more flexibility around choosing contrasting electives). Some UK universities also offer such programs. There are also other universities that are quite different in fundamental structure to the traditional universities everyone has heard of (Minerva or The London Interdisciplinary School are two such examples). I will not pretend like I know a great deal about these different options, but the point is that they are there and could be considered.

Of course, how viable some of these options are for an individual depends on their personal situation (for example, finances), the support they can receive from the school environment and more. Nonetheless, being aware of these options and doing your research can be insightful (even if you default back to the same decision you were going to make at the beginning).

If you are anything like me, figuring out what you want to study at A-Levels and beyond can be tricky. It can feel like picking one thing forces you to leave something else behind that you enjoy just as much. Not only this, figuring out “what’s next” can seem like the single biggest decision you will ever have to make. And it is certainly not something to take lightly. However, one thing which I have come to learn with time (and I do not think it can be learnt apart from in hindsight) is that things change as time goes on.

Your personal situation changes. Your interests change. The world is constantly changing. What you thought was your dream may not be so perfect in reality. All you can do is make a decision based on what you think excites you and is important for the world you will be entering. Reading those books and doing those projects are all part of seeking out information that will help you decide. And things may change after you have decided, but if it makes sense for you in the current moment, it will be a decision well made. For students reading this that also feel a pressure of figuring things out, I hope that offers some sense of liberty moving forward.

At the end of any year, life slows down for many and gives them the opportunity to pause and reflect on the year that has gone. With that comes a lot of content on the process one should go through to effectively use this time. Vision boards. Misogi’s. Kevin’s rule. Daily systems and anti goals. Objectives and key results. The list goes on.

While some people are eager to reflect at the end of the year, this list of frameworks created a sense of pressure that I had to find the perfect way of approaching this reflection. Pushed by this pressure, I experimented with different strategies, none of which really sticking and becoming a consistent practice I could rely on at the end of every year.

What did I find challenging? Simply put- a year is a long period of time and a lot can happen in 12 months. Whatever I tried, I struggled to find a way to reflect on the year in a way that truly encapsulated everything that happened (internally and externally). Hence, I would always feel like I was not giving the reflection process justice.

Despite this struggle, I accept that the end of a year is a natural time to pause, so finding SOMETHING that worked for me was still important. At the end of 2025, I tried experimenting with yet another strategy and I think I found that something.

Disclaimer: what is far more important than any one framework, including what I share below, is the intention behind it. This kind of content should only act as inspiration for what you can experiment with as you find what works for you. Copy all of it. Ignore all of it. Try integrating one or two things into something that you know suits your way of thinking. It is up to you.

Step 1: Take stock of what happened in the year

I do not have an impeccable long term memory (perhaps like many of you) and so, naturally, there are things that happened in the year that I had forgotten. A way of reminding yourself that I found effective was going through my phone’s camera roll. My camera roll did not capture every single moment in the year (I, admittedly, do not take many photos)  but seeing certain images triggered my memory of other things that had happened. With this reminder, I made a list of stuff- big or small- that happened in the year. Events. Specific moments. Milestones. Anything really. Seeing this list, once written out fully, acted as food for thought for what followed.

Step 2: Identifying what the year had taught me

Being a reflective person who makes an effort to tune in to what I am thinking, it was important for me to understand my recurring/evolving thought patterns and how these could guide me as I stepped into the new year. My aim was to create a list of lessons and perspectives that I could say shaped my 2025.

Based on more recent events and reflections, there were a few things that immediately stood out and made the list. However, understanding how your emotions and thoughts have evolved of the course of a year is quite a challenge when you spend so much time focusing on the here and now.

To get a better sense of this evolution, I relied on my journal notes- journalling being a habit I got back into in 2025 after years of being on and off with it. I admit that “journalling” is a bit of a buzzword nowadays and means different things for different people. For me, it involved making a note of random things that I was thinking about in the week and then exploring these thoughts a bit deeper at the end of the week. While I was not perfectly consistent with this practice, I was left with notes on my phone from most weeks in the year with random words, phrases and sentences that captured my thoughts. They were neither structured or neat, but probably an accurate representation of what went through my head over the year.

Using these notes, I asked ChatGPT to analyse what my thoughts, extracting significant lessons and assessing how my perspective on things had changed overtime. I took this month by month, further asking it to give me a year summary at the end of the 12 months.

ChatGPT? For reflecting? Using AI for something so human? Before you think I have trapped myself in the AI bubble, I know that tools like ChatGPT are not perfect for these kinds of tasks. There were a few cases where it did not quite understand what some notes were getting at (particularly in months where notes were more sparse and less detailed). What ChatGPT did provide me with, however, was an outside perspective on my thinking (albeit quite objective). Despite being skeptical at first, I was honestly quite surprised with how illuminating this exercise was for me. It painted a picture of what the conversation I have with myself looks like, exposing me to ways my thinking had changed over the year (some of which I had not realised).

(In hindsight, going through 12 months at once took me quite a while and took up a lot of brain power. In 2026, I hope to do a similar thing but for every month as the months go by- which might be a bit more manageable for both ChatGPT and myself).

Doing this gave me things to add and tweak in my list of lessons and perspectives, leaving me with a list of 7. And it was a list I was happy with, simply because I felt like it sufficiently captured all that happened in the year and gave me a lot to consider moving forward.

In previous years, I have seen many Instagram reels that say “Before the year ends, answer these 5 questions”. I have always accepted that they were good questions to answer but I never really knew how to answer them, stopping me from even trying. The process I went through meant that I was much better equipped to answer these questions fully and honestly. To me, that is a sign that I gave the end of year reflection process justice- for the first time after years of experimenting.