The Moments That Made 2025

7 min read Original article ↗

Some days, I wonder if any of this matters.

The content. The teaching. The late nights.

Then I read feedback like:

“I feel lucky to have you as a teacher.”

“A person one likes to talk to and work with.”

“We can/will continue in Rakia’s session until the end.”

And I remember: it does.

2025 gave me screenshots I’ll keep forever. Words that stayed.

A son who used to say “hello mama” to the camera because I told him to pretend it was me, and now corrects my English pronunciation.

A flight over Greenland I never expected.

3 kg dumbbells, I finally picked up. Not perfectly. But enough.

None of it showed up in my analytics. All of it showed up in my life.

I’m on a plane. Eleven hours into the longest flight of my life. Germany to Denver.

I look out the window and see something I’ve only watched in documentaries: Greenland. Ice-covered mountains stretching endlessly. White and blue and ancient.

I didn’t plan to see this. But there it was — one of those unexpected moments that make you pause and think: I’m really doing this.

I was on my way to meet my team for the first time. Three days of workshops and a hackathon in Colorado. The kind of trip that sounds routine on paper but feels significant when you’re living it.

Greenland from the plane
Greenland from the plane, October 2025 (picture by author)

Boulder, Colorado. Golden hour.

We’re hiking as a team — something I wouldn’t have planned for myself. I forgot my phone. I asked a colleague to take a photo for me.

I’m standing on a trail with the Rocky Mountains behind me, autumn colors everywhere, and a sunset that looks edited but isn’t.

This is what it looks like when work becomes more than work. When colleagues become people you hike with. When a business trip turns into a memory you’ll keep.

Me hiking in Boulder, Colorado
Me in Boulder, Colorado (picture by author)

Some feedback disappears the moment you read it. Other feedback stays.

This year, I received words that stayed.

“Passionate, full of ideas, eagerly shares and discusses feedback, emits good vibes and has lots of helpful architectural experience.”

“A prolific teacher… incredibly well-prepared, delivering customised content that perfectly suited my needs. Her engaging teaching style and deep knowledge made complex topics accessible and exciting.”

“Thank you so much for the course, which I appreciated immensely!!! I feel lucky to have you as a teacher.”

Feedback about my 1-day seminar
Feedback about my 1-day seminar (screenshot by author)

I read these on hard days. The days when I wonder if any of this matters. They remind me: it does.

August 2025. I’m running a live session on AI Dev Use Cases.

Midway through, a group leader sends a message to the team: “Just a heads-up that we can/will continue in Rakia’s session until the end.”

There was another meeting scheduled. They chose to stay.

Feedback from a manager who attended my live AI Dev Use Cases Live interactive session
A mesage from an attendee of my live AI Dev Use Cases Live interactive session (screenshot by author)

The next day, feedback from another manager: “Great presentation yesterday! Really enjoyed it.”

These moments are small. A message. A comment. But they’re the ones that tell you: people are paying attention. Keep going.

Feedback from a manager who attended my live AI Dev Use Cases Live interactive session
Feedback from a manager who attended my live AI Dev Use Cases Live interactive session (screenshot by author)

December 20th. A message from a client.

“We are happy to have gotten in contact with you. You help us a lot, and you are a person one likes to talk to and work with.”

Feedback from my client wishing me a happy new year
A message from my client wishing me a happy new year (screenshot by author)

I read it twice.

Not because it was complicated. Because it was simple. And simple is rare.

So much of client work is transactional. Deliverables. Deadlines. Scope. But sometimes you find people where the work feels like collaboration. Where communication is smooth. Where you genuinely enjoy showing up.

This client — and their whole team — is one of those. The kind of working relationship that reminds you: the who matters as much as the what.

I shared an article on Facebook about Apple and AI. A comment appeared from Samy Ben Daoud, an early manager who shaped my career many years ago.

“Exceptionnellement intéressant…”

He’s still reading. Still engaging. Still there.

Some people impact your trajectory and disappear. Others stay in the margins of your life, quietly cheering. Samy is one of those. A reminder that mentorship doesn’t expire.

Comment of my early manager and mentor
Comment of my early manager and mentor (screenshot by author)

My son stands in front of the camera. Teleprompter running. Microphone positioned. He’s recording a segment for one of my YouTube videos.

Two or three years ago, this wasn’t possible.

I remember telling him, Suppose the camera is mama.”

He looked at the lens and said, “Hello mama.”

I smiled. It was a start.

Now? He stands there like he’s done this a hundred times. Confident. Clear. No coaching needed.

My son in front of the camera recording a YouTube video
My son in front of the camera recording a YouTube video (picture by author)

And here’s the part that gets me: he corrects my English pronunciation now. Helps me with words I stumble over. The student becomes the teacher — in the most unexpected way.

This might be my favorite memory of the year. Not because of views or metrics. Because of who he’s becoming. And because I got to watch it happen.

My son in front of the camera recording a YouTube video
My son in front of the camera recording a YouTube video (picture by author)

These dumbbells aren’t new. I didn’t buy them in 2025.

And honestly? I didn’t use them as regularly as I planned. Life happened. Deadlines happened. The dumbbells sat there, waiting.

But I improved. Not perfectly. Not consistently. But noticeably.

Twenty to thirty minutes. Three kilograms in each hand. Some weeks more, some weeks less. Not impressive by gym standards. But progress doesn’t need to be impressive. It just needs to be real.

2025 wasn’t the year I mastered fitness. It was the year I stopped treating “not perfect” as “not worth it.”

In 2026, I want to keep going.

My dumbells
My dumbells (picture by author)

This year gave me:

  • A flight over Greenland, I didn’t know I needed

  • A team I finally met in person

  • Feedback that reminded me why I teach

  • A client relationship built on genuine collaboration

  • A mentor who still reads my work after all these years

  • A son who went from “hello mama” to correcting my pronunciation

  • Progress with 3 kg dumbbells — not perfect, but real

None of these fit in a metric. None of them show up in analytics.

But they’re the reason I keep going.

Here’s to 2026 — and the moments we can’t predict but won’t forget.

  • ✨ Make complex topics exciting

  • ✨ Show real-world case studies

  • ✨ Give hands-on with tailored content

  • ✨ Let you leave energized 🚀 not overwhelmed!

Want this energy for yourself or YOUR team? 👉 Reach out or DM me.

I’ve got a couple of great offers to help you go even deeper. FREE & discount access to my video courses - available for a limited time, so don’t wait too long!

💡 🧠 I break down the real-world engineering wisdom they don’t teach in tutorials. Join my newsletter and my YouTube channel, where I help working developers and engineers navigate the evolving tech landscape with clarity and confidence.

Thanks for reading TekForge! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Share