Living the Life I built - A Year of Enough, Courage and Becoming: A 2025 Reflection
- Lea Grace R. Famularcano, MD
- Dec 28, 2025
- 6 min read
The end of the year is usually a time for reflection, how the year went and making promises to do better the next year. Self-reflection is an important step in "pivoting" or "becoming". Because how would one know where to even start? Probably the reason why most new year's resolution fizzle out by the third month!
For years, my life was defined by building:
My twenties were spent almost entirely in school and training, becoming the physician I had always wanted to be. It felt like the most natural path—both of my parents are physicians—and while I once dreamed of being a singer, I quickly accepted that it would remain a hidden talent, best kept hidden. (Some dreams are meant to stay hobbies. Ha!)
My thirties were another season of building—this time in a different country. I transitioned to life in the United States, built my home and family, and returned to years of studying and training to become a U.S. physician. I learned the nuances of being an immigrant. Filipino immigrants are known for resilience, hard work, and adaptability. We keep our heads down. At least, I did. I worked, persevered, and quietly dreamed about what might be possible.
My forties were my rumble—my messy middle—both personally and professionally. Brené Brown describes the “rumble” as a critical part of rising strong, though I didn’t have language for it then. All I knew was that I was struggling: juggling motherhood, career, and the elusive promise of work-life balance. During this time, we built a private practice—then lost it after seven years. I rebuilt again as an employed primary care physician, work I loved deeply but that was emotionally, mentally, and physically draining, eventually leading to burnout. And then, I found my niche in obesity medicine—later stepping into the role of medical director at exactly the right time. A job I truly love and find fulfillment daily.
Three decades of working harder, planning smarter, preparing for “someday.” Someday when things would slow down. Someday when I’d feel more grounded, more fulfilled, more at ease. In 2025, I realized that someday was actually right now.
Over time, the accumulation—both material and experiential—began to feel complete, sufficient. The urgency to keep striving eased, replaced by a growing sense that I no longer needed to prepare for life. I was already standing inside it.
This became the year I stopped chasing the next milestone and started living the life I built. Not as a finish line, and this is not a flex—but as a realization. Many of us never pause long enough to recognize when we’ve arrived. We keep moving the goalposts, always preparing for someday. If you find yourself doing that now, consider this an invitation: pause, look around, and allow yourself to live and enjoy the life you’ve spent years building.
A No-Buy Year That Gave Me More Than It Took
I entered 2025 with a simple but uncomfortable commitment: a No-Buy Year. For personal items. Read blog here. I am proud to say that I have stuck to this! (Save for a few pairs of socks, I can't seem to resist them!)
It was an experiment in "enough-ness". I wanted to see what would happen if I stopped reaching outward for validation, relief, a quick and easy dopamine hit—and instead sought contentment with what I already had.
At first, I felt panicked in my "no-buy year" decision. For someone who identifies as a shopaholic, it seemed difficult to achieve. But I was able to sit with the discomfort. To ask better questions: Do I truly need this—or am I filling a void?
Over time, that pause became a relief, a gift.
I learned that accumulation does not lead to contentment, quite the opposite, actually, the more you accumulate the desire builds up more and lead to discontent.
Contentment, I found, lives in intentional choices.
I was rewarded mentally, emotionally, and energetically -- I was no longer caught in indecisions of "should I buy it" -- it was already decided ahead of time. And that freed up a lot of mental space and time!
By stripping away the unnecessary, my experiment gave me something more: the freedom to say yes to things that meant more to me..
Yes to to travel, to courage, to meaningful connection—and to fully inhabit the life I’ve built.
Living with Intention
Intentionality. It's a word that I repeat and practice often.
Living the points (credit card points!) I built paid off in a big way in how I traveled this year. Intentional credit card points use and accumulation translating into traveling in style and comfort!
I decided I wanted to experience solo travel and so I did, to Hawaii. Related blog here: I made the travel arrangements, planned my own excursions. My husband Mike usually did this, but planning it on my own was an accomplishment in itself! I said yes to the exhilaration of learning how to surf.
There is something deeply grounding about paddling out into the ocean on your own, trusting your body, your breath, and your willingness to try something out of your comfort zone.
In Málaga, Spain, I found myself once again challenging my fear of heights. El Caminito del Rey was an approximately 5 mile hike that started as a nice boardwalk with amazing views and culminated in traversing boardwalks carved in to the mountain and crossing canyons 344 feet high(think 30 story building) on 3-foot wide plank, heart pounding but choosing forward motion, eyes ahead and one step at a time. Going back was not an option anyway.
This year also gave me the freedom to say yes without hesitation. Yes to a trip to Scotland with my son.
And yes to joining longtime friends—relationships feel richer because there is finally space to be fully present.
I am thankful for the years before that got me to this point. And also because I moved away from a mindset of scarcity to a more abundant mindset, with plenty of wiggle room to say yes when the opportunity presented itself.
It was about inhabiting the life I had already built—with courage, gratitude, and a growing sense of ease.
Of course, there are far more financially stable individuals that dream and are physically able to travel, but sadly don't because of fear of "what ifs". And are in the "someday" mentality. What I've learned in the book Die with Zero by Bill Perkins is to maximize life experiences now, that you are strong and able, rather than postpone and reserving wealth for later when you're old and frail and never having enjoyed the money you've worked hard for.
Launching our son to college trusting the foundation we've built
That same clarity carried into one of the biggest transitions of the year: sending my son off to college and learning how to parent from afar.
The principle of the no-buy year extending into learning restraint into letting go of control. Of doing less so trust could grow. Launching your child into college and adulthood required the same mindset. No more hovering, instead, allowing space to grow, to gain more confidence, and trust the foundation we had already built together as a family.
Parenting from across the country has asked me to be present in a different way. To listen more, to trust the values, resilience, and independence that were shaped long before move-in day. While it's not always easy, in fact he faced some challenges he never had to before, I have to trust that the foundation holds up for years to come.
Much like this season of my own life, it has been less about adding and more about allowing—watching him step into his own world while I learn how to fully inhabit mine.
As this year comes to a close, I find myself feeling less driven to define it and more content simply to be inside it. Grateful for the years of building, and for the space they created. Grateful for fewer things and fuller experiences. For courage that showed up when I needed it, and trust that continues to grow—especially as I watch my son step into his own life. Nothing feels finished, and nothing needs to be. This season is about presence. About noticing, enjoying, and honoring the life I’ve been building all along—and allowing that to be enough.
Closing Reflection:
Where in your life are you still building—and where might it be time to simply live inside what you’ve already created?
What has this past year taught you about enough—in your time, your energy, your goals, or your possessions?
In what ways have you been saying yes out of habit or obligation, rather than alignment and presence?
What fears did you face this year, quietly or courageously—and what did they reveal about your capacity to trust yourself?
Where might you be moving the goalposts, postponing joy for a future version of your life?
If nothing needed to be added or improved right now, what part of your life could you allow yourself to enjoy more fully?