This year broke me open. Not in the way that destroys (maybe a bit), but in the way that makes room for something new.

At the end of January, our son was born. And just like that, the person I was before that day became a fading memory. Everything I thought I knew about my life, my priorities, my capacity for love —all of it changed in an instant.

I've written about fatherhood already—the exhaustion, the divided attention, the overwhelming newness of it all. But what I didn't fully capture in that post was how it exposed something I'd been avoiding: I didn't really know who I was anymore.

The year I lost myself

Becoming a dad didn't just change my schedule or my sleep patterns. It also revealed that somewhere along the way, I had lost my sense of self.

For months, I was just surviving. Getting through the day. Being present for my son and my wife but not really present for myself. There was no time for the things that used to ground me. No running. No reading. No working on projects that excited me. Just the relentless rhythm of work, baby, sleep, repeat.

And when you strip all of that away — the hobbies, the routines, the small things that make you feel like yourself — you start to wonder who you actually are.

I wrote about this in detail a few months ago. That post was the result of weeks of late-night reflections, trying to dig out something true from under all the exhaustion. I had to ask myself the hard questions: What do I actually care about? What are my values? What do I want my life to be about?

The answers were there. They had always been there. I just couldn't see them anymore.

Leaving and arriving

As a result of all this inner turmoil, I made a decision that scared me a lot: I left my job. While having a newborn at home that comes with so many uncertainties.

It wasn't anything dramatic. I had been at HubSpot for a year and a bit, and the people were great. I genuinely enjoyed working with my colleagues. But the way teams and projects operated at a company that size just didn't work for me. Too many layers, too much process, too little of the direct impact I want from work. And now with barely any time, I couldn't afford to spend 8 hours on something that didn't feel right to me.

So I joined Buffer.

I know this might sound like corporate PR, but it's not. This move has been one of the best decisions I made this year. Not because the work is easier or the pay is better, but because the way Buffer operates aligns with how I want to live. Remote, async, thoughtful about how they treat people. I finally feel like my work is part of my life instead of something I have to survive everyday to get to something enjoyable.

The things that fell apart

I want to be honest about what didn't work this year.

My fitness journey was a mess. I had built up decent running consistency before our son arrived, and then it just... collapsed. There were weeks where I didn't exercise at all. Months where I'd start a routine and abandon it within days or weeks. And getting ill more often didn’t help with that either. The half marathon I ran in 2024 feels like it happened to a different person.

I'm am trying really hard to not beating myself up about this. A new baby, a new job, trying to figure out who I am — something had to give. But I miss the version of me that moves, that feels strong and confident, that has the discipline to show up even when it's hard.

Travel was minimal too. A trip to Germany, Amsterdam, and Gent. While I enjoyed these trips and moments (especially meeting my friends in Gent and showing my wife and baby where I used to live), they were nothing like the trips we would go on in the past. First year in a long time that we didn’t visit Italy. I miss it. I wish we could have done more. But with a newborn, it just wasn't realistic, and I've made peace with that for now.

I did manage to ship a few side projects — Offset, my first ever fully native macOS menubar app, and a Linear inspired todo app. Small things, but they reminded me that I can still build, still create, even when time is scarce. Most of my other project ideas stayed in notebooks and Notion, waiting for a version of me with more hours in the day.

The best thing

Through all of the identity crisis, the job change, the fitness struggles, the exhaustion, there's something I need to say clearly: Our son is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Every smile, every small milestone (and there are many of them), every moment where he reaches for me or even says appa — it makes up for whatever hard day I've had. I'm not romanticizing parenthood. It's brutal sometimes (especially for my wife who’s been looking after him during my work hours). But the brutal parts don't cancel out the magic. They exist together, and somehow that makes both more real.

Looking ahead to 2026

I don't want to set goals for next year. I've done that before, and they usually become another thing to feel guilty about when life doesn't cooperate (and in the past few years it hasn’t really).

Instead, I want to talk about how I want to feel. What kind of life I want to build.

Slowing down

I want a calmer life. Not a passive or boring one, but less rushed. Less of the constant feeling that I should be doing more, achieving more, building more.

For years, I've operated like someone with something to prove. Grinding on side projects late at night. Feeling guilty to take rest days. Treating every quiet moment as wasted potential.

I'm tired of that version of myself. (I’m also generally tired)

In 2026, I want to actually enjoy the moments instead of always looking ahead to the next thing. I want to be present with my son without mentally thinking about some project or goals. I want to enjoy cooking a meal without having to worry about tomorrow's tasks.

This is so much harder than it actually sounds. My brain is wired for productivity and working on things. But I think that wiring has been costing me more than it's been giving me. Over the last 10 years or so it’s just worn me out and I’m not 17 anymore to recover from it quickly.

Health without punishment

I want to get back into fitness, but slightly differently this time. In the past, I've approached health like a project to optimize. Strict diets drinking massive shakes to gain weight, intense workout programs and running, tracking every bite I had. It does work, but without enough time the whole system collapses.

Next year, I want something more sustainable. My project Maxout is about building a healthy lifestyle and I want to live that lifestyle that I envision for the world.

Exercises that I actually enjoy. Eating a healthy and balanced diet while still allowing to enjoy cooking and foods. Staying lean and fit throughout the year without making it another source of stress.

I have no idea if I can do this. Balance has never been my strength. But I'm going to try.

Rebuilding my social batteries

This one is something I haven't really talked about publicly: my social batteries are completely drained. Not just like recently but for a really long time now.

Over the past few years, I've become increasingly withdrawn. Meeting people feels exhausting in a way it didn't use to. Hosting feels like a burden. Even reaching out to friends I care about has become something I avoid.

I want to change this. Not by forcing myself to become the extroverted person I used to be, but by being more intentional about the connections I do have. Starting with people I actually care about. Maybe finding a local community - a gym, a football club, something where I can show up regularly without the pressure of always being available.

I used to enjoy being around people. I want to find that again.

Purpose through heritage

The clarity I found this year about who I am — it came down to one thing: my identity as a Tamil.

My mission hasn't changed since I first articulated it years ago. I want to preserve and share Tamil linguistic and cultural heritage through content creation and technology. Help disconnected Tamils in the diaspora rediscover their roots. Open our world to those who want to understand us.

Most of the projects I want to work on all connect to this: tools to learn Tamil, content about Tamil food and cooking, apps that make language learning accessible. None of this has deadlines. None of it is going to make me rich. But it's meaningful work that only I can do, and that matters more to me than building another todo app.

The honest uncertainty

I don't know if any of this will happen.

I might write this same reflection next year about how 2026 was another year of survival mode. Life with a toddler is most likely going to be even harder than life with a baby. My good intentions might dissolve the moment things get difficult.

But having a direction feels better than the aimlessness I felt for most of this year. And maybe that's enough for now. If I am lucky, I will find a way around the challenges that dad life brings, I have now almost one year more experience than I used to have at the beginning of this year.

In 2025, I found myself again. Not the person I once was before but someone I at least recognize. Someone who knows what he values, what he wants to build, and who he wants to be or become.

That's worth something. Let's see where 2026 takes us.