Figuring it out, one layer at a time. Reflections and lessons learnt.
As she flies from Edinburgh to Malta, Kirsty Debono reflects on the lessons 2025 taught her - about purpose, patience, and the quiet courage it takes to live authentically.
Flights have always had a way of making me reflect. I don’t know if it’s the feeling of being removed from daily life, or seeing the Earth from a bird’s-eye view that offers a more holistic perspective, but something about being in the air does it.
From as far back as I can remember, the concept of purpose has preoccupied me. Yes, imagine a 13-year-old reflecting on this - that was me. Over time, that search slowly turned into pressure, something I felt I needed to figure out before choosing school subjects, starting work, and making life decisions.
It took me a while to realise that the question was never really about what I want to do, but about who I want to be.
Life has a way of teaching this to all of us. No matter how much we plan, we’re shaped by experiences we didn’t choose. Challenges show up, perspectives shift, and we’re forced to adapt - regardless of how privileged or protected our starting point may have been.
I’ve come to believe that our “obsession” with purpose is often a disguised way of chasing happiness. We assume that once we find it, everything will click into place as if it’s some kind of magic formula.
But what if purpose isn’t something we find or force, but something that unfolds when we listen closely to ourselves? When we have the courage to stop performing, stop trying to fit in, and start being honest about who we truly are?
“It’s hard to live a fulfilling life while performing one that isn’t truly yours.”
Peeling back layers of conditioning, expectations, and identities we picked up to survive takes time. They’re often driven by fear - of rejection, of not belonging, of not being enough. Sometimes we internalise them so deeply that we can’t tell whether that voice is even ours anymore.
Uncovering this takes patience. It’s the slow work of asking: “what’s actually mine?” and learning to trust the answer, again and again.
I’m on that journey too. It’s lifelong I suppose, and definitely not easy. It’s full of contradictions and grief from letting go of versions of yourself that once kept you safe. It requires honesty, and that’s harder than I ever expected.
Still, I believe we owe it to ourselves to do this work. It’s hard to live a fulfilling life while performing one that isn’t truly yours. And we owe it to each other, too - because joy, presence, and authenticity ripple outward. Have you ever been in a bad mood and had a stranger compliment your smile? Even something that small can shift everything.
2025 taught me a few lessons
We have more time than we think - just not for everything at once. Life moves in chapters, and remembering that makes patience easier, especially in our 20s and 30s when the pressure to “figure it out” is real.
Novelty stretches time. New places, new experiences, even small changes can make life feel fuller, the same way a new journey always feels longer than the way back.
Some situations don’t need fixing, they need compassion. When nothing seems to work, acceptance can sometimes be the most healing response.
Every now and then, it helps to remember that the world doesn’t revolve around us.
We need each other, and we need nature. Connection, in all its forms, grounds us. Writing is one of the ways I feel connected - and part of why I found the courage to share this reflection with you.
You can’t pour from an empty cup. Even the best intentions fall flat when you’re depleted. If you want to show up for others, start with the person in the mirror.
These are some of the lessons this past year has offered me. I still forget them. I still struggle. I still hold myself to impossible standards at times. But that’s part of living, right? Noticing, learning, and trying again.
If you’re on a similar path, I’m rooting for you. But please remember that you are not a constant self-improvement project. You’re allowed to pause, to rest, to breathe. Don’t let this be another source of stress and pressure. In a world that rewards noise and urgency, choosing to listen to yourself is a quiet kind of strength.
Wherever you are on your path, I hope you’re being gentle with yourself. You’re allowed to take your time.
About the author
I’m Kirsty, a curious learner of life and not one to fit neatly into a box. I love the sun and sea, nature walks, coffee, reading, singing, dancing, cooking, travelling, journaling, and exploring how we can live more peaceful and meaningful lives. I’m a firm believer that we’re here on this Earth to connect - and that we’re all much more alike than we think.