At the start of 2025, I was returning to contracting after five years in permanent roles. It was exciting and uncomfortable in equal measure. New business, new goals, a new client, and an underlying determination not to simply replay my pre‑2019 contracting career. Despite that intention, I carried a quiet assumption that work would be continuous, that one client would naturally roll into the next. That assumption did not survive the year.
From my first day with a new client in early January, I believed the year ahead held opportunity. Not just to build something of my own, but to move in a different professional direction. I began shifting from security engineering into security operations: from securing products to helping secure organisations. So far, it has been a worthwhile move and one that feels right for this stage of my career, both in terms of skill development and in laying the foundations of a sustainable business.
The dominant themes of the year were growth, learning, and resilience. I had to learn an entirely new dimension of security, seeing how it operates from a business and operational perspective rather than a purely technical one. I had to grow my confidence and judgment to meet the needs of people who had spent far longer in these environments than I had. That process demanded thicker skin than I expected.
A recurring challenge was resisting old defaults. I was an engineer for a long time, and it is easy to fall back into a build‑first mindset even when the task requires analysis, judgment, or restraint. Letting go of skills that once defined my value came with a genuine sense of loss. I experienced something similar when I moved from individual contributor to architect and leader, but this transition was more profound. There is a constant tension between who I was, the engineer who measured success by output, and who I am becoming, a security leader measured by outcomes. What surprised me most was how real that leadership identity became once I moved into security operations. In security engineering, I often felt like an engineering leader who happened to work in security. In operations, security itself became the substance of the role.
I take the most professional pride in how I adapted to security operations engagements. My underlying security knowledge transferred well, but the difficult part was learning to contextualise and communicate it differently. I had to shift from an engineer’s lens to one that addressed problems from multiple perspectives and produced guidance clients could actually act on. That shift was uncomfortable but necessary.
Outside of work, the area where I showed the most consistency was physical training. I maintained three gym sessions per week and averaged five hours a week training at the dojo across multiple martial arts styles. Over the year, I made significant gains in strength, skill, and overall fitness. I am in a completely different place from where I started. Looking ahead, with a black belt on the horizon in one style and senior promotion in another, maintaining that discipline will matter as much as any professional goal.
Midway through the year, my earlier assumptions caught up with me. When my first contract ended in August, I struggled to secure follow‑on work. Before moving into permanent roles in 2019, I was rarely between engagements. My skills were in demand, and my network was strong. I assumed that would simply resume when I returned to contracting. It did not. My network had cooled, the market had slowed, and IR35 changes meant genuinely outside roles were far less common than I had expected.
The period between August and October was harder than I anticipated. Although there were warm leads, none materialised. My financial runway shrank, and I questioned the decision to return to contracting more than once. Under that pressure, I narrowed my focus in unhelpful ways. Instead of building the business, serving clients directly, or developing alternative revenue streams, I fixated on refining my CV and applying for advertised roles. Anxiety about cashflow crowded out longer‑term thinking.
In hindsight, I allowed reactive behaviour to masquerade as productivity. CV refinement and applications are legitimate activities, but without boundaries they become a form of procrastination. The real discipline lies in limiting them and continuing to invest time in work that compounds over the long term, even when short‑term outcomes feel uncertain.
Going forward, contingency planning will be a priority. Building a larger runway, preparing for lean periods, and executing calmly when they arrive will be essential if this business is to be durable rather than fragile.
The year changed me more than I expected. I am not the same person I was twelve months ago. One notable shift was developing a sustained interest in philosophy, particularly Stoicism. That interest led me to start a Substack, The Professional Stoic, where I explore how Stoic ideas apply to leadership, decision-making, and responsibility. More importantly, Stoic practice changed how I approach risk and ambition in practical terms.
Risk is not about reckless leaps. It is about making deliberate commitments with incomplete information: allocating time, cash, and reputation to work that may not pay off, while keeping enough control to recover if it doesn’t. That framing has removed much of the emotional volatility from decision-making. Success and failure are treated as inputs, not verdicts.
The same mindset reframed ambition away from hitting targets and toward trajectory: choosing work and projects that build judgment, skill, and experience with each iteration, even when individual efforts do not immediately pay off. Progress is measured less by outcomes in isolation and more by whether each cycle of work leaves me better equipped for the next. That shift has been central to how I now think about building both a business and a career as an entrepreneur.
Looking ahead to 2026, the central theme is consistency, but not in isolation. Alongside maintaining discipline in training and delivery, there are several future projects already underway that are critical to where the business is heading next. These initiatives sit in deliberately narrow and unconventional areas of practice. They carry real professional risk, and for now they must remain unnamed, as they are being developed behind closed doors. What matters more than the specifics is how they are approached.
Pursuing work at the edge of the field requires patience, repetition, and tolerance for delayed feedback. There will be long periods where effort is not visibly rewarded, where progress is measured internally rather than by external validation. Consistency is the only viable strategy in that environment. Showing up to do the unglamorous work, refining ideas quietly, and continuing to invest even when outcomes are uncertain will determine whether these projects become the foundation of the business or remain unrealised potential.
A good year will mean extending my runway while continuing to meet personal milestones, such as earning a black belt in freestyle martial arts. More than any single outcome, it will mean honouring commitments to myself, my family, my clients, and to the long-term work that is being built out of sight.
Habits and systems make that possible. Simple tools like a daily GSD list have improved how I plan and execute my work. Stoic practices have helped me manage anxiety and reflect more clearly. Physical training remains foundational. Seneca’s insistence on disciplining the body so it does not disobey the mind has proven accurate in practice.
As I move into 2026, the central challenge is consistency under uncertainty. The work that matters most is largely invisible, deliberately narrow, and carries real professional risk. It offers little immediate feedback and no guarantee of validation. Progress will be measured quietly, through repetition rather than momentum.
2025 exposed the cost of assumption and the limits of discipline under pressure. It clarified what it actually takes to continue investing effort when outcomes are delayed and reassurance is absent. That lesson was not abstract. It was paid for.
The projects now underway will either become the foundation of what this business becomes or a record of ideas not carried far enough. What is required is clear: consistent execution, patient refinement, and the willingness to remain visible and accountable while the work itself stays largely out of sight.
This reflection is not a resolution or a promise of results. It is a declaration of intent. My professional network will not see the work as it is being built, but they will see me. Over time, they will see whether consistency holds, whether progress compounds, and whether the risks chosen were justified. In 2026, that accountability is the point.