If I had to describe 2025 in one phrase, it would be ‘a mixed bag’. It was one of those years where, when asked “how are you?” at the start of work calls, I found myself replying “surviving” far too often. More times than I’d like to admit. Looking back now, I realise how that small choice of word often set the tone for the rest of the conversation. I regret all the times I missed the opportunity to kick start each call with a spark of positivity by responding with ‘thriving’ instead of ‘surviving.’ Every time I opened a call with “surviving,” I unknowingly passed on a little fatigue to everyone else. And on the rare occasions when I answered differently, the shift in energy was almost instant.
I’m not suggesting we pretend life is perfect when it isn’t, but I can’t help thinking about how much power sits behind our choice of words. Hindsight is a wonderful teacher, and the more I reflect on the past year, the more I see how much of it was governed by the mindset of surviving rather than thriving.
2025 wasn’t exactly easy for anyone, especially in the world of work. Job security took a nosedive as layoffs continued to roll through industries, and many of us quietly shelved the hope of pay hikes keeping up with inflation. The collective fatigue was unmistakable; so much so that Glassdoor declared fatigue as the word of 2025.
The pressure of constant change, especially around AI adoption, added a layer of anxiety that seeped into even the most resilient teams. Robots were not only taking over driving cars (Waymo, I see you) but made their way into kitchens and warehouses. Workplace chatter, once sprinkled with excitement about innovation, began to sound more like nervous speculation. Even those championing the new wave of artificial intelligence couldn’t completely drown out the noise of layoffs and uncertainty. For many of us, surviving felt like all we could do.
I had my highs, of course, but when the weight of the wider world presses hard enough, it’s difficult not to feel its influence. The constant drumbeat of bad news around politics, wars and general sentiment didn’t help either.
Then, on New Year’s Day, as though the universe sensed I needed a nudge, The New York Times The Morning newsletter landed in my inbox.
It said: “The Morning brings you bad news every day: wars, mass shootings, congressional gridlock, bedbugs in France. At the beginning of the new year, we’re doing something different. We’re going to talk about the psychology of hope.”
That one sentence stopped me mid-scroll. It was poetic in its honesty—acknowledging the chaos but choosing to pivot toward hope. The newsletter went on to explain that while optimism is the belief that the future will be better, hope is the belief that we have the power to make it so.
Chan Hellman, the director of The Hope Research Center, called hope one of the strongest predictors of well-being. It doesn’t just shape our outlook. It impacts our immune system, our ability to recover, even how tall we grow (literally!).
“To cultivate hope, we need three things: to be able to envision a better future. Second, the willpower or motivation to move toward that future. And third, to chart a path from where we are to where we want to be.”
And as I sat there, coffee in hand, digesting those words, something clicked.
If you’ve been here for a while, you know this is my ritual – starting my year with a new intention and an ambitious list of goals. I wanted 2026 to be the year I stopped surviving and started thriving.
For a while, I toyed with two words: hope and thrive. Hope sounded grounded and deeply meaningful, a quiet promise that things can and will get better. But thrive felt active. It had motion. It called for participation, not observation. Thriving isn’t just about feeling good; it’s about choosing to grow even when circumstances don’t change in your favor.
So “thrive” it is.
2026 is the year I make thrive real—not just as a feel-good slogan on a PowerPoint deck or a motivational poster stuck in my room, but as a tangible practice.
Thriving isn’t about ignoring the hard parts; it’s about choosing to see the good side too. It’s about noticing the small wins, appreciating the quiet kindnesses that make up our days, and calling them out instead of letting them go unnoticed. One of the traps I’ve seen people (me included) fall into at work is that when we talk, it’s usually about what went wrong, what’s broken, what’s unfair. But what if we rebalanced that?
What if we spoke just as naturally about the person who went the extra mile, or the manager who took five extra minutes to truly listen?
Thriving, for me, will mean consciously practicing that shift.
I’ve narrowed it down to three small but powerful non-negotiables that I know will change the texture of my days. They’re not grand resolutions; they’re almost deceptively simple. Things like starting my mornings with ten minutes of quiet, ensuring that I get some daily movement in, writing down a few paragraphs each day, spending time each week nurturing relationships outside work, and ending each day by noting one thing that went well.
I call them my daily “anchors.” If I’ve honoured them, I know I’ve done enough.
Yes, life throws curveballs. It always will. But the intention is to make those days fewer and shorter-lived. And on those days, if someone asks how I’m doing, I’m going to say “thriving” anyway. Because language matters. That single word can shift energy—not only mine, but the person’s on the other side of the screen. It can spark a smile, invite curiosity, and sometimes, that’s enough to nudge the day upward.
Now, if you’ve read this far, you might be thinking, “Now she’s going to tell us how we focus on ensuring all our employees thrive.” And that’s fair, it’s what readers expect from an HR blog. But we can’t create thriving workplaces if we, the ones who shape culture and experience, are barely surviving ourselves.
Put your oxygen mask on first.
Once we’ve done that, we can meaningfully ask how to help others thrive too.
Wherever you are, and whatever your word of the year might be, I hope 2026 is the year we all stop surviving and start truly thriving.
Here’s to 2026: the year we thrive.
Past Word of the Year

