Hold On. Just a Little Bit Longer.

I don’t know if astrology is your thing — but hear me out.

Recently, I came across a post about 2025 being the Year of the Snake in the Chinese zodiac. And yes, it was on Instagram, so feel free to raise an eyebrow. But the message stopped me mid-scroll in a way very few things do these days.

The Year of the Snake is said to be about shedding, transition, and renewal. About letting go of what no longer fits so that something wiser, more aligned, and more honest can take its place. Snakes don’t shed their skin because something is wrong — they shed because they’ve outgrown it. It’s uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Necessary.

And if I’m honest, that metaphor has felt painfully accurate for many people this year. Myself included.

2025 doesn’t feel like a year of big, flashy wins. It feels like a year of questions. Of endings. Of awkward in-between moments where the old version of life no longer works, but the next version hasn’t fully revealed itself yet. A year where hope can feel a little threadbare.

And yet… there’s something quietly important happening here.

The In-Between Is Where People Find Me

Over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern at Breaking Barriers.

People rarely walk through the door just because they want to “get fitter.”

They find me during transition periods in their lives.

Sometimes it’s obvious — a breakup, burnout, injury, grief, a big life change. Sometimes it’s harder to name. A sense of restlessness. Feeling disconnected from their body. A quiet realisation that the way they’ve been doing life isn’t working anymore.

They often say, “I just need to move again. Or, “I need to feel strong. Or, “I need something for me.”

They come for the fitness. They come for the boxing. They come because hitting things sounds like a good way to blow off steam.

And yes — all of that happens.

But what they usually find is something deeper.

More Than Fitness (Even When You’re Punching Stuff)

Movement — especially boxing and kickboxing — is incredibly well documented for its physical benefits. Strength, coordination, cardiovascular health, bone density, balance. All important. All valuable.

But what often goes unspoken is how deeply regulating these practices can be on a mental and emotional level.

When you’re boxing, you’re not just exercising — you’re present.

You’re aware of your stance. Your breath. Your balance. Your timing. You’re learning how to generate power without tension, how to stay grounded while moving dynamically, how to remain calm under pressure.

Sound familiar?

Physical balance supports mental and emotional balance — and vice versa. When one is off, the others usually follow. When we work with the body in an intentional way, we’re not just strengthening muscles — we’re rebuilding trust.

Trust in your body. Trust in your instincts. Trust in your ability to respond, not just react.

This is where the “life skills wrapped up in the fun of hitting things” really live.

Shedding Old Patterns Through Movement

The Year of the Snake is about shedding what no longer serves you. And often, what needs shedding isn’t just external — it’s internal patterns we’ve been carrying for years.

Overthinking. Second-guessing. Disconnecting from the body. Ignoring signals until we burn out or break down.

In training, these patterns show up immediately.

You can see it in the way someone holds their breath when things get hard. In how they apologise for taking up space. In how uncomfortable it feels for them to rest — or to push.

Movement becomes a mirror.

And that’s not a bad thing.

Because when you can feel something in your body, you can work with it. You can practise responding differently. You can learn what grounded effort feels like instead of forced effort. You can discover that strength doesn’t have to be aggressive — and softness doesn’t mean weakness.

This is why people often say, “I didn’t expect this to be so… therapeutic.”

I usually laugh and say, “Yeah — the gloves are sneaky like that.”

The Snake Clears the Way

2025, in many ways, feels like a clearing year.

It’s asking people to slow down enough to notice what’s no longer aligned. To feel the discomfort instead of numbing it. To release roles, expectations, or identities that once felt necessary but now feel heavy.

That process isn’t glamorous. It can feel lonely. Confusing. Exhausting.

I’ve had many conversations this year that start with, “I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

And honestly? That’s often the beginning of something important.

Because clarity usually comes after we stop forcing ourselves to be who we think we should be.

Looking Ahead: The Horse Is Coming

What follows the Snake is 2026 — the Year of the Horse.

Symbolically, the Horse represents momentum, movement, stability, and forward progress. The energy shifts from shedding to building. From internal recalibration to outward expression.

But here’s the thing — the Horse moves best when the groundwork has been done.

When the body is balanced. When the nervous system feels safer. When trust has been rebuilt.

You don’t rush a horse out of the gate before it’s ready.

And you don’t rush yourself through transformation either.

A Space to Reconnect With Yourself

This is what I aim to provide at Breaking Barriers.

Not just a place to train — but a space where you can reconnect with yourself.

Where you can move your body in a way that feels empowering, not punishing. Where you can learn skills that translate beyond the gym floor. Where you’re encouraged to listen inward rather than override your instincts.

I don’t believe people need fixing.

I believe they need space, support, and the right tools to remember that they are already their own best resource.

Movement helps us do that. Boxing and kickboxing just happen to be a very effective — and fun — way in.

So If You’re Here…

If you’re reading this feeling tired, uncertain, or quietly questioning everything — this is your reminder:

Hold on. Just a little bit longer.

If hope feels distant, look for the smallest glimmer of good. It doesn’t have to be loud or obvious. Sometimes it’s as simple as showing up, moving your body, and noticing that you feel a little more grounded when you leave than when you arrived.

Snakes don’t shed because they’re broken. They shed because they’re growing.

And growth doesn’t always feel good while it’s happening.

But it is happening.

The Horse is coming. Until then — breathe, release, and trust yourself.

You’re doing better than you think.