When Strength Means Knowing When to Pause
By Lucy Castillo
There is a version of strength that looks productive, energetic, and constantly in motion.
And then there is another kind — quieter, less visible, but far more decisive.
2025 taught me the difference.
From the outside, my work has always required structure, discipline, and reliability. Working closely with high-profile individuals, families, and environments where privacy is not optional but essential, I’ve learned that stability isn’t created by constant movement — it’s created by clarity.
This year challenged that belief in ways I didn’t expect.
A Year of Intentions — and Reality
I began 2025 with ambitious plans. Charity initiatives, community projects, and professional goals aligned with my values and my desire to give back — both in Peru and in the UK.
But early in the year, my body forced a different conversation.
In February, I was diagnosed with perimenopause. What followed wasn’t dramatic — it was subtle and persistent. A loss of energy, poor sleep, mental fog, and a disconnection from physical training, which for me has always been a foundation of balance and discipline.
When your work depends on presence, precision, and emotional regulation, losing that internal rhythm changes everything.
Health Is Not a Detail — It Is the Structure
One of the most misunderstood aspects of working in demanding, high-responsibility environments is this: performance and health are inseparable.
No matter how disciplined you are.
No matter how committed.
No matter how strong you appear.
Without physical and emotional stability, nothing functions properly.
2025 forced me to recalibrate — not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I postponed projects, cancelled events, and redirected my energy toward treatment, recovery, and rebuilding consistency.
It wasn’t comfortable.
But it was necessary.
Learning to Prioritise Without Guilt
This year taught me something essential: prioritising yourself isn’t selfish — it’s strategic.
For years, my work has revolved around supporting others: managing logistics, anticipating needs, protecting privacy, and creating environments where people can operate at their best.
In 2025, I applied that same standard of care to myself.
There were moments of emotional fatigue, brief periods of sadness, and days when motivation felt distant. Instead of pushing blindly, I allowed myself to acknowledge those moments — without dramatizing them and without guilt.
That decision changed how I closed the year.
Growth Doesn’t Always Look Like Expansion
Not all progress is visible.
Sometimes growth means postponing good ideas to protect better ones, choosing recovery over exposure, refining focus instead of multiplying projects, and understanding that alignment doesn’t always follow your calendar.
While some objectives didn’t materialise, others quietly did. I strengthened my boundaries, refined my professional focus, and reconnected with what sustains me — physically, emotionally, and personally.
Why This Perspective Matters in My Work
The environments I work in don’t tolerate chaos. They require emotional intelligence, discretion, resilience, and clarity.
This year reinforced something fundamental: the ability to support others — especially in high-pressure, high-visibility contexts — begins with self-regulation. With knowing when to step back so that, when you move forward again, you do so grounded and aligned.
That understanding now informs everything I do.
Closing 2025 With Perspective
I don’t see 2025 as a year of loss.
I see it as a year of recalibration. A year that replaced urgency with intention and pressure with perspective.
I’m not interested in visibility without meaning. I work with people and brands who understand that trust, discretion, and alignment are not marketing tools — they are values.
Strength, I’ve learned, isn’t always about pushing forward.
Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to pause — so you can return with clarity, stability, and purpose.
— Lucy Castillo
