They say data doesn’t lie, but looking back at my 2025, the numbers tell a story of a girl I barely recognize. If you asked me how I’m doing as the year closes, I’d tell you I feel “lost.” But looking at the trail of words I left behind, maybe “lost” is just another way of saying “becoming.”
Q1: The Clockwork Girl (January – March)
The year started with an obsession with order. My vocabulary was a list of demands: time, work, supply chain, and UAT. I was trying so hard to be a “functional adult.” I felt like a mitokondria—the powerhouse of a cell that never stops, fueling a business and a policy that wasn’t mine. I was navigating MySQL databases and indonesia-wide logistics, thinking that if I could just optimize the “supply chain” of my own life, I’d finally feel found.
Spoiler: I didn’t. I was just a well-oiled machine in a room with no windows.
Q2: The Cracks in the Agile Method (April – June)
By April, the technicality started to blur. I was still talking about projects and agile workflows, but for the first time, a new word entered the chat: sorrow.
In June, the “track” I was on felt like it was leading nowhere. The words emotional and silence started to outpace technology. I realized that you can’t “PMBOK” your way out of a heartbreak or a quarter-life crisis. I was “lost” in the most literal sense—standing in the middle of a busy street in Jakarta, wondering if my own energy was running on a deficit that no policy could fix.
Q3: Finding Escape in the Stratosphere (July – September)
Then came the pivot. Maybe I couldn’t find myself on the ground, so I looked up. My vocabulary shifted to defense, aircraft, and maritime patrols. There’s something comforting about the cold, hard logic of technology when your heart feels messy. I became obsessed with energy and speed. I wasn’t just moving; I was trying to reach mach speeds to outrun the feeling of being “lost.” If I could understand the flow of an aircraft’s wing, maybe I could understand why I felt like I was in a constant stall.
Q4: The Landing (October – December)
As the year ends, the words get heavy again. Disaster, information, and partial truths.
I’m ending 2025 realizing that “lost” isn’t a destination; it’s a state of high-altitude flight. I spent months studying defense mechanisms, only to realize my best defense was just letting the time pass. I’ve traded the rigid supply chain of my expectations for a more fluid understanding of the air I breathe.
2025 Evaluation:
I am still not “found.” I am still a collection of parsed data and operational glitches. But I’ve learned that even in the silence, there is a network of growth happening. To anyone else entering 2026 feeling like a “lost” lady: and yes I am! I don’t know where I am. But if I have a list of everywhere I’ve been (like my word list), I am an explorer.
Ana the Exploradora! B-)