This year was a year to remember, and for (mostly) the wrong reasons.
Our voting power was diluted, disabled children were locked up, mothers were grabbed while taking their kid’s college, a midwife was arrested for doing her job, it got more dangerous to have a baby and to simply live as a trans Texan. If Texas politics felt unhinged this year, that’s because the hinge was intentionally removed.
Oh and the governor is taking orders from hate-mongering content creators. Nothing says leadership like chasing clicks. What a time to be alive.
But, as an eternal optimist, I know that for every shitty thing that happened to Texans, there were more good things. In a year defined by manufactured outrage, the most radical act turned out to be showing up anyway.
Like the women at the capitol who tried to fight facism, or the Texas judge who planned a big gay wedding party as a protest against anti-LGBTQ laws. And the woman who spent 141 days in ICE custody and is now fighting for women like her.
Of course, being a journalist, I wanted to ask others about the moments that got them through the year. I’ve compiled our favorites below.
Hannah J. Langenfeld, Operations Fellow at The Barbed Wire
For me, 2025 was filled with the ups and downs. My highest moment was attending the All Things Go music festival in D.C. in September with my best friend, Maria.
We’d waited four long years to go — worth it because we saw Noah Kahan perform live! Kahan is one of my favorite musicians (I have a tattoo inspired by his songs, shhh!) and I turned Maria into a fan quickly. His lyrics contain deep emotion, and have helped me get through and process quite a bit.
When Kahan sang “Homesick,” I felt carefree and transcended, albeit with a sore throat from screaming at the top of my lungs. That tends to happen when you LOSE your MIND for your favorite musician. Which is why following the set with the best soft-serve ice cream in D.C. was the cherry on top of a memorable day with someone who has been through it with me.
Brian Gaar, Senior Editor, The Barbed Wire
It’s been a tough year. My best friend got me tickets to see John Mulaney in Austin and it was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. In contrast to a lot of the mean-spirited comedy that has suffused our culture lately, Mulaney was light-hearted and fun, without ever punching down. A total pro, and it was a joy to watch!
Olivia Messer, Editor in Chief, The Barbed Wire
Spots of brightness for me this year included Sabrina Carpenter’s *whole thing,* the time I said I needed “flour” and my 4-year-old nephew handed me a bouquet of crocheted sunflowers, the catharsis of writing vulnerably and feeling seen, and the fact that The Barbed Wire’s whole team made space for me to take a much-needed medical leave in the spring after something really bad happened to me. I feel more than ever that doing good journalism and spotlighting important stories is actually good business. That makes me really excited for how we’re going to build out our team in 2026.
When we were covering the July 4 floods in Kerrville, the stories of strangers donating their time, money, and attention to the families in need were so impactful to me. One couple, Daric and Heidi Easton, told CNN they own a restaurant and immediately started making food for the first responders at Camp Mystic.
“I think hospitality and service is uniquely equipped to handle situations like this,” Daric Easton, who has a daughter around the age of the missing girls, told the cable news station. “I can’t imagine what these parents are going through, and I don’t need to. I just need to make sandwiches.” Cara, our managing editor, wrote about her own family’s efforts to save people during Hurricane Helene, using just a canoe — and how the majority of search and rescue folks during natural disasters are volunteers, in fact.
Amid all the adversity and hardship this year, it’s too easy to forget how many people dedicate their lives to public service, whether they’re working an unpaid side job doing search and rescue work, raising rescue dogs from a puppy mill, doing pro bono legal aid for immigration clients, or making sandwiches for grieving parents. What if we’re actually all more generous, understanding, and compassionate than we give each other credit for?
Darryl Golden, Journalist and Producer
My favorite moment(s) this year have come from people who took the time to speak life into me by celebrating, LOUDLY, my wins, accomplishments, and accolades. (Golden is an Emmy-award winning journalist who was recognized for his coverage of South Dallas history and civic engagement in Black communities.) These people created space for me to acknowledge the cool and wonderful work I’ve been able to create. It’s an experience that was foreign and it was a good reminder to always celebrate ourselves!
I’m thankful to receive my flowers and I’m thankful for the opportunities to smell them. I am grateful! ☺️
Karla “DJ KICKIT” Rendón, DJ, Entrepreneur, Speaker and Author
This year tested my confidence in ways I didn’t expect. On paper, my DJ career was thriving — but internally, I was questioning whether I had the right to pursue something bigger: public speaking. Around the same time, I was unexpectedly terminated from a job, and the blow to my self-esteem lingered far longer than I wanted to admit. I felt unsteady, unsure, and disconnected from the version of myself I knew I could be.
Then I went to a speakers retreat hosted by one of my favorite motivational speakers and pianist, Jade Simmons — and everything shifted.
Jade didn’t just teach us how to speak; she helped me remember who I was. As I shared vulnerable, painful experiences from my past, she gently reflected something back to me that I had lost sight of: my purpose. Jade helped me see how so many moments from my childhood — the rhythm, the storytelling, the connection — were early callings of the work I do today as a DJ and entertainer. Nothing was random. Nothing was wasted.
When she prayed over me, I broke down. Not from sadness, but from release. I didn’t need advice or validation — I needed to be seen. I needed someone from the entertainment world to understand the weight we carry behind the scenes and remind me that my gifts weren’t accidental.
That moment reminded me how powerful kindness can be when it comes in the form of listening, belief, and a genuine embrace. Sometimes what gets us through isn’t a grand gesture, but a reminder of who we are — paired with a hug at exactly the right time.
Oh yea… and we performed together at her all women’s conference a few months afterwards!
Amanda McCoy, Social Media Fellow, The Barbed Wire
It’s rough out here, from world conflicts to the government’s conservative agenda in the glorious state of Texas, we call home. Not to mention my personal life and “adulting” (even though I barely classify myself as an adult, I’m a baby adult). It’s crucial to ground myself while I stay informed and for me, music is my personal solace.
What got me through this year was one specific 1975 tune: “Dreamboat Annie” by Heart.
Heart is a rock band fronted by sisters Ann and Nancy Wilson, formed in Seattle. There’s something about that rainy city that produces most of my favorite rock/grunge musicians.
As a sister myself, I feel connected to their music and appreciate their bond. It warms my heart in the best way.
So when the news notifications keep coming through, and it’s all intensely negative, my anxiety often requires more than a peppermint tea to calm me. There’s also my stress about my (adult) future that, knock on wood, may not live up to my many Pinterest boards.
Still, in the midst of all the chaos, I can always count on the two minutes and one second of “Dreamboat Annie” to be my cure-all. Listen to it, maybe it can help you, too.
Kit O’Connell, Big and Bright Contributor, The Barbed Wire
There’s a young man I’ve been checking in with all year because I’m working on a developing story with him about legal trouble and the right to protest. This guy has been through it with the system, and was even placed on house arrest for minor charges.
The last time we spoke, as we were wrapping up the formal interview, he said to me, “I don’t know how this works, am I allowed to ask about you?” He then conducted a mini-interview with me about my work and how I’m doing.
It was so refreshing to have this guy, with troubles of his own, take a moment to simply say “Hey, I see you, how are you doing?” It reminded me of how we all carry burdens and yet time and again we find just a little more capacity to reach out to others. It was a small moment but stuck with me.
Last but not least, me!
Like many American families, I’m dealing with the reality that current events these past few years have drastically changed family dynamics. But I believe that when good things fall apart, it’s because better things come into place. That’s what I witnessed most of all this year.
This past summer I spent a wonderful 10 days galavanting with girlfriends in the jungles, beaches, and cities of Colombia with my friend Manuela who planned the trip to her home country.
I met Manuela in Jamaica on a retreat in 2023 and immediately knew we were destined to be the best of friends.
She lives in New York City, so most of our friendship has been nurtured via text, scheduled zoom dates, occasional plane rides, and road trips to visit each other. This year, I got a chance to experience the beauty of her country. In the midst of me writing about a lot of traumatic stories happening in the U.S. (see first paragraph), I was reminded of the beauty and culture of Latin America. The trip was meant to be a reminder to celebrate life and the little things. While we had fabulous experiences in Colombia and even got to dance at Karol G’s bar(!), it’s the daily life moments that stay with me. The moments of us singing and dancing to Bad Bunny and Karol G in the car. The moment we greeted each other at the airport. When I met her best friends growing up and we all collectively bonded.
But perhaps the most magical moment was when she officially gifted me her sisterhood.
On one of our last days in the beautiful country, we each got a secret person from our group (like a secret santa) to give them something small. The day before we had spent time at a local artisan market in the country’s oldest city, Santa Marta. I was fascinated with the cultural similarities of indigenous life from my parent’s home counties of Mexico and Guatemala. I told her that for some reason Colombia felt like home, like an ancestral memory. A woman in one of the booths looked at us and said we had a special friendship, like soul sisters. We smiled, teared up and embraced each other then went about our trip. The day before we all departed, I opened up a small gift wrapped in newspaper from Manuela. It was a beautiful black artisan mask with a sun at the top made by the lovely Tayrona woman we met at the Santa Marta market. The woman had told us that, in Tayrona indigenous culture, such pieces are shared as gifts upon being welcomed into a chosen family. That moment stays with me.
We don’t always get the choice of what situations we’re placed in, but we always get the choice to surround ourselves with people who see us for the magic we are.
