2025 in Review: From Goals to Intentions

A personal year-in-review on intention setting, living abroad, career growth, language, belonging, and becoming.

Today is Sunday, 14 December 2025, the day I began writing this 2025 year in review, and I am sitting in one of my favourite coffee shops in Hoi An, Vietnam. Outside, motorbikes weave through the streets, horns blending into the familiar soundtrack of life in this part of Southeast Asia. Inside, it feels calm enough to allow for reflection. The kind of calm that invites you to look back at your year with honesty, curiosity, and a little courage.

Over the past few years, doing a personal year-in-review has become more than just a habit for me. It has become a ritual. Every December, I pause, zoom out, and ask myself a few simple but powerful questions:

• What worked
• What didn’t
• What surprised me
• What changed me
• What I learned
• What I can improve

For a long time, I treated this as classic goal setting or goal reviewing. But the more I travelled, lived abroad, and recalibrated my life between the UK, Spain, and Vietnam, the more I realised something important about personal growth.

Goals give you direction, but intentions give you meaning.

Goals can be ticked off a list. You either hit them or you don’t. And life, especially a life shaped by different countries, cultures, and career chapters, rarely fits into a rigid checklist. Intentions, on the other hand, feel different. They evolve with you. They shape how you show up, how you make decisions, and how you navigate uncertainty.

So this year, I decided to review 2025 through the lens of intention setting rather than traditional goal setting. I looked back at what I intended, what actually happened, and what I learned along the way.

Before we begin, a small word of caution.

This is a full-year review, so yes, it is a long read. So, I encourage you to read it at your own pace. Pause. Come back to it later if you need to. Let it unfold slowly. My intention for this personal reflection is to serve as an inspiration and an invitation for you to reflect on your own 2025 before stepping into 2026.

And as you read along, I invite you to gently ask yourself one question:

What did this year reveal about who I am becoming?

1. Expanding Myself Through International Experience

What I Intended

When I arrived in Alicante, Spain, for my Pan-European Seal Professional Traineeship Programme at the European Union Intellectual Property Office (EUIPO), I did not walk in with rigid expectations. I walked in with an open heart, a willingness to learn, and a quiet promise to myself that I would show up fully.

Truth be told, I didn’t truly know what to expect, but I did know WHY I wanted to be there.

If I rewind the story, the intention began in my MBA classroom in the UK. I craved experience in an international working environment, and I aimed for it specifically in Spain. Partly because I wanted to advance my Spanish, and partly because I wanted to escape the freezing British winters.

When I received the acceptance email for the EUIPO traineeship, I felt joy, excitement, and a strong sense of possibility. It felt as if life had aligned the path perfectly. Little did I know that what followed would become one of the most enriching professional years of my life in one of the biggest EU agencies.

What Happened

During my traineeship, I joined the Business Development Department and contributed through content creation, communication, and social media management. A central part of my role was supporting the director in communicating the importance of Intellectual Property.

At first, IP felt unfamiliar. But as a former fashion designer, I quickly realised it had always been part of my world. I was simply learning to see it through a strategic lens.

Through this work, many things I had studied during my MBA suddenly clicked in practice. LinkedIn became my main storytelling platform. I had written for Instagram and Facebook for years, but LinkedIn required a different brain muscle with more intention, a different storytelling technique and more precision.

I also worked on renewal campaigns and email marketing, learned new tools like Brevo, and supported high-level presentations by transforming complex ideas into clear visuals that could be used with stakeholders across Europe.

Beyond that, I was given the opportunity to lead workshops for fellow trainees, where I shared strategic frameworks such as SMARTER Goal Setting, Scenario Planning, and Backcasting as practical tools for personal leadership development. Preparing, designing, and delivering these sessions brought me genuine joy.

Toward the end of the traineeship, I organised trainee-led podcast recordings and was invited to represent trainee voices for the incoming cohort 2025/26. Sitting on that stage, in front of directors from every department, I felt quietly proud of everything I had contributed, learned, and lived. I was not only representing the Business Development Department, but also carrying the pride of presenting Vietnam within a European Union institution.

What I Learned

This experience taught me a great deal about the professional I am becoming.

I learned that I thrive in structured, international environments where strategy, systems, and communication intersect. Communication is one of my strongest tools, especially when it comes to making complex ideas practical.

I also learned that teaching and guiding others energises me, and that I feel most aligned when I can connect theory with real life.

At the end of my traineeship, my department gave me a small card that read “Siempre A Tope,” meaning Always Full On. Every time I look at it, I smile. It reminds me that I showed up fully, that my energy was felt, and that I can look back at this chapter and simply say: I did it.

2. Deepening My Love for Communication and Languages

What I Intended

One of my core intentions this year was to advance my Spanish. Back in Vietnam, I had studied Spanish for years and could understand most things, but I was not truly speaking it.

I wanted to place myself in an environment where I woke up every day surrounded by the rhythm of Spanish conversations, the fascination of its sometimes bizarre expressions, and the culture that carries them.

Language has always been a bridge for me. This year, I wanted that bridge to feel solid enough to walk across, not just observe from a distance.

What Happened

One of the best parts of the EUIPO traineeship was the opportunity to study a new language for free during working hours. Of course, I took full advantage of it. I started at B2, having completed B1 in Vietnam, and when summer arrived, I enrolled in the intensive C1 programme.

Two hours of class every day, Monday to Friday, plus homework on the learning portal. For two months straight, I lived and breathed Spanish.

It was not easy. Brutal might be the more honest word. But I am so glad I stretched my limits and pushed through. Studying Spanish feels natural to me. I genuinely enjoy it. It never felt like an obligation. It felt like relaxation.

So when people asked me what I did for fun in my free time, my answer was simply, “I study Spanish.” And that was always the moment people scratched their heads.

Achieving the C1 certificate became a milestone I am genuinely proud of, but the real shift happened outside the classroom. Being able to speak Spanish shaped how I experienced Alicante.

It was no longer just about ordering coffee or navigating daily life. It was about participating in conversations with a sense of humour, with rhythm and with its culture.

There were moments that caught me by surprise.

• A stranger asks for directions, and I respond naturally without thinking.
• Sitting in cafés talking about life, philosophy, and psychology.
• Understanding subtle jokes.
• Finally, I felt the joy of being able to express myself in Spanish, in a way that still feels like me.

Yes, I was still shy about grammar mistakes, especially as someone who values speaking properly, but my confidence grew day by day, and with it, my sense of belonging.

The Alicante community embraced me not as someone passing through, but as someone who understood. Language opened the door, and culture invited me in.

Then came Italian, completely by accident.

One semester, the Spanish classes were full, and I did not want to waste a semester without learning anything. So I signed up for Italian A1.1. And honestly, it felt like destiny. I fell in love instantly.

The classes were challenging because we spoke only Italian and Spanish, so my brain was doing double work. After two hours, I was completely "fried", so I rewarded myself with “un cappuccino e un cornetto.” Or in my more habitual version, “un cappuccino y un croissant, por favor”.

Italian awakened a different part of me. Softer. Slower. More melodic. It reminded me how much I love the learning process itself, from the curiosity, the mistakes, the breakthroughs, and the joy when you "nailed" it.

What I Learned

Speaking another language is more than acquiring a skill. It expands who you are and your identity.

If Spanish gave me confidence, ease, and a deeper sense of belonging during my time in Spain, Italian introduced me to the sound of the soul. It feels like love spoken out loud, maybe that’s my Latina soul showing. And just when I thought Spanish grammar was complicated, Italian kindly showed me another level of complexity.

To my surprise, during a casual hangout, my Italian landlord pointed out that my personality shifts depending on the language I speak. When I started paying attention, I realised he was right.

• When I speak English, I am more direct, structured, and business-minded.
• When I speak Spanish, I am more animated and expressive, with more body language.
• When I speak Italian, even with a limited vocabulary, my soul softens. I feel more romantic. I wonder who I will become when I speak Italian fluently one day.
• And in Vietnamese, my friends describe me as soft but firm.

Languages shape us. They open new pathways in the mind and new ways of relating to people. They are often the first bridge into someone’s culture, and from there, into who they really are.

I do not just enjoy speaking languages. I enjoy using them well (I try my best, you know). Learning proper grammar, understanding regional expressions, and noticing cultural nuances are ways I show my respect to the person I am speaking to.

And if you speak more than one language, I’m curious: Do you ever notice your personality shifting depending on the language you’re using? If so, I would genuinely love to hear your experience.

3. Exploring My Career Path With Openness and Curiosity

What I Intended

Ever since my MBA in the UK, I have realised how much I thrive in academic environments. I genuinely enjoy research, writing, and intellectual challenge, and pursuing a PhD felt like a natural next step.

At the same time, I wanted to explore my professional path with openness. I wanted to build on the momentum of my traineeship, find opportunities in Europe, and allow my career to evolve without forcing anything.

To stay grounded, I applied one of my favourite business frameworks: Scenario Planning.

• One possible path was a PhD.
• Another was a job opportunity in Europe, preferably in Spain.
• Another was a new traineeship.
• And another was returning to Vietnam to work on business projects.

The main theme was simple. Stay open. Stay curious. I simply allow the path to unfold in its own timing.

What Happened

From December 2024 to April 2025, I applied to four PhD programmes. Years ago, not being selected would have shaken me deeply. This time, it did not. Although each time I received the familiar email beginning with “It was a difficult choice for us,” there was still that small ache in my heart.

I lost count of how many long walks I took to process the news and lift myself back up to try again.

Each proposal taught me something. Each application revealed subtle differences in academic culture across the UK, Italy, Spain, and Scotland. By April 2025, I needed to shift my focus to seeking job opportunities, which was the timeline I had set for myself. I know I will return to academia when the moment aligns.

Professionally, I applied for many roles. I even kept an Excel sheet tracking every company, position, and application. While long-term positions in Spain did not materialise due to sponsorship barriers, something unexpected arrived. A short-term external consultant contract with KPMG España to continue supporting the Business Development Department at the EUIPO remotely.

It was not what I originally imagined, but it arrived at exactly the right time and gave me continuity as I prepared to transition back to Vietnam.

What I Learned

I learned that career growth, at least in my case, is not linear. It is rather messy, full of detours, and often confusing.

I learned to read outcomes as information rather than rejection. I also learned the difference between “not now” and “not ever.” And the interview and test invitations I received during the job search became small wins to me. Even when I did not move forward, they showed me that I was on the right track.

The biggest lesson was this.

My skills are transferable, and I never start from zero. Even when I begin again, I begin from experience.

That realisation grounded me. Accepting reality is not giving up. It is choosing clarity. I do not need to force a path to make it valid, and I do not need full certainty to take the next step.

4. Returning to Vietnam and Settling in Hoi An: A Step Inward, Not a Step Backward

What I Intended

Although returning to Vietnam was one of the scenarios I had considered, it was not the one I hoped for. Honestly, it was my least favourite option. But when life directed me back, I wanted to return with awareness instead of judgment.

My intention was simple.

• Complete my paperwork for the consulting contract and continue my work for the BDD remotely.
• Relocate to Hoi An to support a new project.
• And reconnect with my roots after more than two years away.

What Happened

I admit the idea of coming back terrified me at first. For years, I had equated returning home with "not making it", as if crossing continents and then coming back meant something had gone wrong. There was also a quiet sense of shame in that belief.

But once I realised I needed to return to finalise my administrative documents, I was excited to book my flights home. It did not feel like retreating. It felt like the next step that needed to happen.

Looking back, I can see now how harsh I had been on myself. Next time, I will be kinder and gentler to myself.

And then reality hit. The quiet, familiar sensation of returning to your own country and suddenly feeling out of place. Everything looked familiar, yet I no longer fit into the old rhythm. I had changed. Vietnam had changed. And the version of me that left was not the same version that returned. I described the emotion of this transition phase in detail in my Reverse Culture Shock article.

Once in Ho Chi Minh City, I completed the necessary paperwork, transitioned into my role as a freelance business consultant, and continued supporting the EUIPO remotely. From there, I moved on to Hoi An for a new project, marking the beginning of another chapter in this year of movement and recalibration.

Hoi An became a real test of adaptability, offering a rather wet welcome of floods within the first five days.

Hoi An was meant to be a slower chapter, and it was, just not in the way I expected. Within my first five days, the town welcomed me with floods, as if gently reminding me that adaptation would once again be required. And Hoi An, it turns out, has a very particular sense of humour.

Life here moves at a different pace. Slower than what I was used to, sometimes challengingly so, but also quietly instructive. It asked me to soften, to observe, and to adjust my rhythm without resistance.

Adapting here carried its own irony. In my own country, I often found myself mistaken for a foreigner. People spoke to me in English, guessing I was Chinese, Korean, Japanese, anywhere but Vietnamese. It was amusing and disorienting all at once. Perhaps a small reminder that identity, much like belonging, is never as fixed as we think. And yes, one day I might actually get my DNA checked.

The most meaningful part of coming back was reconnecting with my family in Nha Trang after more than two years abroad. Being physically present with them softened something inside me in a way video calls never could, and I am so glad that I came back. Their humour, their warmth and their quiet care reminded me of the kind of love you only feel when you are truly home.

What I Learned

Coming back gave me space to breathe, to reflect, and to honour the chapter that had just ended. I learned that feeling foreign in a familiar place is not a failure, but a natural part of growth.

I also learned that adaptability is not a one-time skill. It is something you practise again and again, especially when life asks you to shift direction.

The faster I accept my current reality, the quicker resistance fades. I had already said goodbye to the office, to Spain, and to that chapter of my life. My life is here now, with a new project in Hoi An, and this is where my focus and energy need to be. Acceptance, I realised, is not resignation. It is clarity.

As I settled into this transition, I did what I often do when life shifts beneath my feet. I went for many long walks. Walking has always been my way of processing, regulating, and making sense of change. During those walks, I felt a quiet sense of relief. I had done the best I could. Whatever came next, I trusted I would meet it as it arrived. One foot in front of the other, I allowed the tension to soften and kept moving forward.

Most importantly, I learned that coming back was not a step backwards. It was a step inward.

Looking back, I can see now that I was afraid that by coming back, I would slip into an old skin I had worked so hard to shed. I was searching for peace, for happiness, for the natural joy that once felt effortless. At the time, I did not yet have the language or the compassion to understand what I was moving through.

Now, I can look at that period with a kinder, more empathetic heart. Coming back gave me the chance to face my past instead of continuing to outrun it. I realised that I had rejected that old version of myself, when in truth, she is still part of me. And now, I welcome her with open arms. I integrate her into who I have become, not as someone to return to, but as someone to honour.

I am not my past. But without my past, I would not be who I am today.

So now, I allow the best parts of my Vietnam self to integrate with the versions shaped by the UK and Spain. Not fragmented. Not divided. But whole.

5. Deepening Self-Discovery Through Friendships and Human Connection

What I Intended

I did not begin 2025 with a clear intention around friendships. But I did intend to stay open; open to people, to conversations, and to whatever human connection life wanted to place in front of me.

What Happened

This year gently reminded me that authentic connection rarely arrives through planning. It arrives through presence.

In the UK and Spain, I formed friendships that became emotional anchors through shared work, conversations, coffees, long walks and simple everyday rituals. These connections made Europe feel like home, not because of how long we had known each other, but because of how naturally we showed up for one another.

Even after leaving, those friendships remain close. I make a conscious effort to stay in touch with the people I care about, and they continue to hold a special place in my heart. Distance did not weaken them. It simply asked us to adapt, and we did.

But what surprised me most wasn’t only the friendships. It was how often I found myself talking to strangers.

This happens to me everywhere, whether it's on the street, at the beach, or in cafés. A comment turns into a conversation. A question turns into a story. Sometimes it’s brief. Sometimes it lingers.

I know some of my more introverted friends would never do this. They would mind their own business and move on. But for me, these moments feel natural. Almost effortless. And somehow, they’re rarely shallow.

A few minutes of conversation, and suddenly we’re talking about life abroad, identity, work, loss, joy, or simply how strange and beautiful life can be. Then we part ways.

Coming back to Vietnam didn’t change that. It just shifted the setting.

Alongside familiar faces, I started meeting new people again, mostly fellow travellers, Europeans living abroad, or digital nomads passing through. We have long, thoughtful conversations about movement, belonging, and what it means to build a life across places.

Different countries. Different languages. Same pattern. Connection keeps meeting me where I am, and I am grateful for those beautiful moments.

What I Learned

I learned that self-discovery does not happen in isolation. It happens through people, through friendships that grow slowly and stay, through conversations that appear briefly and disappear just as gently, and through moments where two lives cross paths, even for a short while.

I also learned to enjoy connection without needing to hold onto it. Sometimes, just to appreciate a soul meeting without asking it to become anything more is enough.

Every person who meets me carries a story, a lesson, or a reflection. And every encounter, no matter how fleeting, is a small blessing when met with presence.

This year taught me that human connection is one of life’s quiet gifts. And the more I allow myself to enjoy the moment without attachment, and without expectation, the richer the journey becomes.

So, now… where do we go from here?

As I close the chapter of 2025, I don’t feel the need to label it as good or bad, successful or unsuccessful. It was a year of movement, of recalibration, of learning how to stay open while letting go. A year where intention mattered more than outcomes, and presence mattered more than certainty.

Through work, language, relationships, and returning home, I learned how to meet change without resisting it. I learned to trust timing, to soften instead of forcing, and to honour each chapter for what it offered, even when it didn’t unfold the way I first imagined.

I am no longer asking, “What are my goals for next year?” Instead, I ask, “What are my intentions for the person I am becoming?”

Intentions shape how we show up. They guide our choices and how we move through uncertainty. Some of my intentions for 2026 are private, meant to be held close. But they will guide how I grow and how I move forward.

And this is where I turn the conversation to you.

A Gentle Invitation

As you reflect on your own year, I invite you to pause and ask yourself:

• What did this year reveal about me?
• What surprised me?
• What am I proud of?
• What do I want to carry forward?
• What feels ready to be released?

There is no right answer. Only honesty.

If you feel called to share, I would love to hear from you.

What is one intention you want to carry into the new year?

Not a goal. Not a resolution. Just an intention.

Finally, thank you for being here. If you made it to the end, I truly appreciate your time and presence.

As we wrap up 2025, I wish you a peaceful holiday season, surrounded by love, whether from family, chosen family, or the quiet love you offer yourself.

May you find clarity where you need it, growth where you are ready, and peace within. Here’s to the gentle unfolding of whatever comes next.

Take care of yourself emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually.

See you in 2026.