2025 — a year of inspiration

I didn’t plan anything specific. I just did what I loved. And yet there were so many reasons to be excited and grateful.

I never stopped admiring the people I was lucky to meet, work with, and call friends — and of course my husband and son, who support me ❤️. None of this would have been possible without them.

When I went to Manila in February, I spent four days in my hotel room. Quite accidentally, I spent one day writing a short film script, and the other three preparing for my talk at WordCamp Asia 2025 and for being a Test table lead at Contributor Day.

I only had 10 minutes for my talk, so I had to cut it without mercy. In the end, it was 8.5 minutes long (check out “How to Grow as a WordPress Developer” if you haven’t seen it yet). The room was full — with friends and familiar faces in the first rows. And when you finish a talk thinking it couldn’t have gone any better, and people start closing in to take selfies… well, now I know how artists and musicians feel after a show. It’s cool 🤘🏻

I’m grateful to everyone who came, and I hope my talk helped someone — becoming that small drop that changes a life for the better, the spark that starts the engine. I saw the fire in people’s eyes and their enthusiasm, and maybe I simply voiced things they already knew. It’s also incredibly important to have like-minded people around you. Remember that feeling when a book author puts into words exactly what you’ve been thinking?

In March, I spoke in Innopolis (Kazan, Russia) at the Merge conference. I was a backup speaker in Basel at WordCamp Europe 2025 and a Test team table lead on Contributor Day. In September, I was also a backup speaker at PHPyh.conf’25 in Moscow, and later that year I spoke in St. Petersburg at the Stachka conference.

I want to especially mention Valentin Udaltsov, the organizer of PHPyh.conf, who assembled an amazing team and made something almost impossible for one person — especially on the first attempt. It was an outstanding conference.

Being a speaker takes a lot of time and effort, but it’s worth it. It may be a plus on a CV (sometimes), but that’s not the point. When you explain something to others, you start to understand it more deeply yourself and grow as a professional — though even that isn’t the main reason.

Sharing knowledge is a noble thing, but it’s not always rewarding. What truly matters is being among people like you: people who love what they do, talk about it, live it, and care deeply. And at the same time, we’re just humans — who love our spouses, children, pets… and beer; who experience impostor syndrome from time to time; who have unrealized projects and dreams. Talented, positive, motivated, and humane — that’s an incredible company to be part of.

I’d also like to thank my friends who came from Nizhny Novgorod to Kazan just to meet up. You’re amazing 💗 Invite me — I’ll fly in!

Over the year, I participated in three podcasts (one of which we had to record twice). It also took an unexpectedly large amount of time and effort to publish the article “Under the Hood of WordPress — Dissecting the Engine and Exploring the Tools” on Habr, based on a previous presentation. Meanwhile, the editors of the WordPress Dev Blog never got around to reading my article about WP_Query, so I posted it on GitHub instead: WP_Query Optimization — just to close the gestalt.

After returning from Manila and submitting the script I had written to a competition, I “accidentally” wrote a second one. At that point, it became clear that no “fairy godmother” was going to appear — if you want to make a film, you have to do it yourself.

I had no idea how to approach this, so from April onward I talked about it everywhere — at parties, conferences, concerts. I probably got on some people’s nerves. But like-minded people were eventually found at the fencing studio I attend.

On September 6, we discussed the script. On November 6, the film was finished.

If there’s anything more powerful than a room full of people listening to you with enthusiasm, it’s this. Seven talented people believed in the project. I’m deeply grateful to all of them and hope I managed to express that.

I was the producer, scriptwriter, production designer, prop master, loader, and errand girl. It’s just 17.5 minutes — but we poured our time, energy, and hearts into it.

I’m currently submitting the film to festivals (which is why I’m not publishing it yet). Regardless of awards or certificates, we know we made a great film. But, as with everything else, we can’t stop. It’s long, labor-intensive, and expensive — but worth every bit of effort. It’s art that can’t be imitated.

We also held a film presentation, which — in terms of organizational effort — turned out to be comparable to the filming itself.

Of course, as usual, I attended rock concerts, musicals, and plays — not only in St. Petersburg, but also in Moscow and, unexpectedly, in Petrozavodsk. It was fun!

I still train fencing twice a week and miss sessions only for serious reasons — like conferences or travel. In the fall, some training time was replaced by discussions about filming and then organizing the presentation. My fencing master helped with the venue and other logistics. Without him, I’d probably still be walking around telling everyone what I wanted. I think he just got tired of it.

One of the actresses from the film — who also did makeup and illustrations — is now working on illustrations for my book “The Cursed”, the first novel in the “Foothill Kingdoms” series. This gives me the moral right to delay publication 😅. Once again, I don’t know where to start — but I have to decide. I’m currently translating it into English, and I’ve found a fantastic narrator for the English audiobook.

And yes — there was work this year. Work that I love.

All of January, without holidays or days off, from 8 a.m. until midnight (with breaks for meals), I worked to meet a deadline. I made it. I was happy with the result — and so were the managers and editors.

The work was interesting, intense, and varied all year. But in the fall, things changed (and no — AI had nothing to do with it). Projects were cut. People were laid off. No one from the team remained, and my tasks were reduced to laying out forms. I left.

Often, to build something new, you need to dismantle what no longer works — to clear the way for new opportunities, prospects, and horizons.

What will they be? We’ll see.

Exciting? Yes.
Just like everything I do.