By Kat Grace
There are years that build us.
And then there are years that strip us.
2025 was not gentle.
It was not polite.
It did not ask permission.
It arrived like a mirror we could not turn away from—revealing what was false, brittle, outdated, or quietly killing our spirit. As a Snake year, its medicine was ancient and uncompromising:
shed or suffocate.
The snake does not negotiate with its old skin.
It does not romanticize what no longer fits.
It releases—because staying the same is more dangerous than the vulnerability of becoming.
And this year demanded the same from us.
The Ache of Shedding
Shedding sounds poetic—until you’re in it.
In 2025, many of us lost:
- identities we worked hard to build
- relationships we prayed would survive
- dreams that once felt divinely assigned
We shed versions of ourselves rooted in survival rather than truth.
Roles we played to stay loved.
Beliefs that kept us small but safe.
And the hardest part?
Shedding doesn’t happen cleanly.
There were moments when everything unraveled at once—as if the universe pulled a single thread and said, Yes. All of it. Now.
Grief became a companion.
Exhaustion lived in our bones.
Silence replaced certainty.
This was not punishment.
It was alchemy.
When the Old Skin Resists
The Snake year is ruthless because it is honest.
What we clung to in 2025 clung back—with teeth.
Trauma resurfaced.
Unhealed wounds demanded attention.
Patterns we thought we’d outgrown returned for one final reckoning.
Many experienced:
- sudden endings that defied logic
- emotional purging that felt endless
- nervous system fatigue from constant transformation
- identity death without immediate rebirth
Just emptiness.
That liminal space—the in-between—is where the snake is most vulnerable.
Bare.
Soft.
Unprotected.
And yet… alive.
The Sacred Intelligence of Release
Here is the truth most people miss:
The snake sheds because growth makes the old skin painful.
What hurt this year wasn’t the loss itself—it was staying too long in containers that could no longer hold who you were becoming.
2025 taught us:
- discernment over attachment
- depth over performance
- truth over comfort
It stripped illusion so we could meet ourselves without costumes.
Even when it felt cruel, this year was preparing us for motion.
2026: The Horse Is Coming
After stillness… comes movement.
2026 arrives as a Horse year, and the energy could not be more different.
Where the Snake asked us to pause, feel, and release—
the Horse asks us to run, trust, and expand.
The Horse is freedom embodied.
Momentum returning to the body.
Vitality coming back online.
If 2025 broke you open,
2026 invites you to move with what you’ve learned.
This is the year of:
- forward motion after stagnation
- reclaiming joy in the body
- courageous leaps fueled by inner truth
- restored confidence and direction
The Horse doesn’t overthink the path.
It runs because it knows where it’s going.
You Are Lighter Now
You may not feel victorious yet.
You may still be tender.
But notice what you’re no longer carrying.
The Snake year removed what you couldn’t bring with you.
The Horse year will show you why.
You didn’t lose yourself in 2025.
You found your true form.
And now—
with less weight, clearer vision, and a braver heart—
you’re ready to move.
Run gently.
Run freely.
Run home to yourself.


