The year is already approaching its end, and I realised I did not want it to pass without another yearly post on The Sacred Skin (lucky you).

Over the past months I have often wondered why I don’t write here as frequently as I used to. Sometimes it feels like I’m standing at a crossroads: continue this platform with intention, or let go and make room for other things. I think the truth is simply that I want to write when I actually have something to say. Sitting here with my thoughts, I realise that time is now, and I am not done with this space just yet.

If I had to summarize 2025, my keywords would be ‘lessons’, ‘successes’, and ‘fuck-ups’. Still, the word that ties everything together for me is growth. Quiet, painful, surprising growth. The kind you barely notice until suddenly you’re standing somewhere you’ve never been before.

On a personal level, this year taught me something I honestly never mastered before: learning to speak up for my own needs and outgrowing the pleaser-mode. This one’s a really hard one for me especially when it concerns friends and family. I discovered that saying “no” from time to time doesn’t make me disappointing. To keep it real I’m still learning to master this lesson, but at least I finally started.

Another major shift: my partner and I finally moved into our new place. After years of living between cities, hospitals and temporary walls, it feels comforting to land somewhere and call it our own. Although I know adventure will return to us eventually, a pause in the nomad life brings a lot of peace of mind with it.

Turning thirty and throwing a massive party, has been one of my favourite memories of the year. I celebrated surrounded by people who truly care for me, and it filled me with the kind of gratitude that settles deep in your bones. If thirty is the beginning of something, I hope it continues like this: honest, imperfect, full of purpose, surrounded by love, and led by curiosity rather than fear.

Professionally, this second-to-last year in training was the most intense one of my medical career so far. It pushed me into situations that asked more than I could imagine: knowledge, instinct, leadership, compassion, courage, but especially endurance. I have experienced periods of deep uncertainty, questioned myself more deeply than I, sadly, every expected to. There were days where the only option was to keep going, literally work through the tears and trust that I would somehow grow through it.

New challenges appeared, of the kind I hadn’t experienced in a while. Shaking my sense of direction, forcing me to slow down (which is a tortuous feeling for someone like me). It made me rethink how to act when life refuses to go according to plan, like at all. I had multiple reasons to give in, but I showed up anyway. Every morning, for my patients, my team, and myself. That consistency alone feels like something to be proud of.

This year also taught me what resilience really looks like, and how powerful a social network can be. Colleagues who genuinely cared and supported me. Friends who reminded me of who I am, and what I bring to the table. Conversations that offered space for me to be vulnerable. Over and over again. I now understand, more than ever, that being a good doctor isn’t only about clinical skill. It’s about mental strength. Empathy. Self-awareness. The ability to stay human while caring for other humans in a system that is just designed to make you feel dependent and insecure.

But it wouldn’t be my chapter, if there wasn’t anything positive to be distilled out of it. Because this year has been about real progress too. My clinical responsibilities expanded, and I feel my knowledge deepens each and every day. I spoke at multiple conferences (feeling like a real girl-boss up there) and discovered once more how energised I feel on stage. I contributed to research, finished my thesis, and continued building towards publication work. I can sense myself growing into the kind of dermatologist I want to become: grounded, curious, patient-focused and scientifically driven. Little me could only dream of the shoes I am stepping into today.

And perhaps the most surreal thought of all: in one year I will be a dermatologist (pinch me please). Standing upright in my last year of residency, makes me dream about a beautiful 2026. A year in which I will graduate and step into a new adventure about which I will tell you when the time is right. A dream I once thought impossible is becoming real, step by step.

My intentions moving into 2026

I want to:

• continue building confidence as a future dermatologist

• take care of myself with more kindness, not perfectionism

• protect my limits without apology, while keeping space for my loved ones

• grow calmly instead of forcing progress

• continue to show interest in the invisible journey of others and embrace them warmly

• read more books that aren't medicine-related

• educate myself more on a financial level, with an eye on my future professional life

Here’s to what comes next.

Love,

Ornella