Sarala Life — Life in Chapters: Careers, Canines, Cabernet & Courage

Life in Chapters

One of the biggest lessons the past three years has taught me is this:
sometimes relationships don’t end because of betrayal, conflict, or cruelty — they end because value systems quietly drift apart.

I’ve watched credible, strong, experienced people — people I love or deeply respect — make choices that took them down a values path different from mine. Choices made in pursuit of what they saw as the goal: a job title, a role, a partner, a version of success that looks impressive on paper.

And while I understand ambition, survival, and the very human need for validation, it’s been painful to witness those choices come at the cost of alignment — and, in some cases, at the cost of friendship.

That loss hurt.
Not because I don’t wish people well — I do — but because it forced me to confront a hard truth: what looks good is not always what matters.
And pain is still pain, no matter how beautifully it’s dressed.

Acceptance Is Not Settling

In a recent therapy session, my therapist asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks:

“Have you ever loved or cared about someone you wished would change — but couldn’t?”

At first, I wasn’t sure I had.
But the truth is… we all have.

I’d been throwing around language like “settling”, as though acceptance meant compromising myself. She challenged me instead to consider acceptance — not as resignation, but as emotional maturity.

Over the course of 2025, I’ve done a lot of work on myself — and I’ve been incredibly lucky to have the space to do it. I’ve learned what it truly means to have a voice. To take up space. To stop shrinking or performing for approval.

But the most important lesson has been learning that two truths can coexist:

• I can be sad and grateful
• Disappointed and accepting
• At peace with an ending and appreciative of what once was

Acceptance isn’t weakness.
It’s clarity.

When Performing Stops Working

If TikTok is to be believed, “2025 wrecked us all.”
While it wasn’t my worst year — let’s call that 2024 — it was a hard one.

Hard because it forced me to sit with why I no longer needed to perform.
Why I didn’t need to tick boxes someone else had decided were “the measure.”

I’ve smiled through crippling pain before.
I vividly remember a board meeting where I’d excuse myself to cry in the bathroom — then walk back in, composed, articulate, “fine.” All while outwardly living what looked like a once-in-a-lifetime professional experience.

It’s astonishing what shifts when you stop caring whether people think you’re smiling or frowning.
When they don’t know your next move — but the people who matter do.

Choosing Quiet Over Noise

These days, my life is filled with routine and quality.
The loudest noise is me shouting at George (who is now a little hard of hearing), Isabella (who inherited my stubbornness), or my husband — who once told me that when I argue, he sees sheep jumping up and down.

Honestly? Not bad at all.

Don’t misunderstand me — the road to self-confidence isn’t a steady upward trek. It hasn’t been miraculous or neat. There has been real pain. Fear. Tears. Trauma responses. Situations handled “so as not to cause trouble” or “not to look bad.” Gratitude offered even after being hurt.

And I’m no saint.
I’ve made mistakes. I’ve hurt people I care about. I’ve acted irrationally. I’ve been selfish. That’s part of being human.

What matters is what we do with the lessons.

What Matters vs. What Looks Like It Matters

Life will always set you a higher measure to prove your worth.
Some of those measures may be necessary on paper — especially in careers — but they are not who you are.

Are there people who think they’ve “won” some mysterious war against me?
I’m sure there are.
Does it affect me now?
Not really.

One of the most fundamental lessons of 2025 is this:
people can’t turn up for you if they can’t turn up for themselves.

That doesn’t excuse bad behaviour — people can still be deeply disappointing — but it does explain a lot.

So I’ve leaned into turning up for myself. And for the people who truly see and feel this version of me, I’m profoundly grateful. In choosing quality over quantity, I know the connections I have are genuine — not competitive, not transactional.

I recently listened to a podcast that spoke about being intentional with who we label friend and who we place in that friendship bucket. Not everyone is rooting for you — sometimes because they haven’t done their own work, sometimes because… well… they’re just not great people.

Either way, that part isn’t our business.

What is our business is recognising that we become who we associate with.

So this January, the focus is knowing ourselves — so we can recognise those around us.

In Other News… Life Updates

Since this is, after all, Life in Chapters:

I’m attempting Dry January to reset my wildly indulgent Christmas ways. On January 1st, 2025, I started 75 Medium — committing to a minimum of 10K steps daily alongside physical, mental, and spiritual challenges — all in time to unveil a hotty (hotty for me) body at Jamaica Carnival with my bestie. And I am happy to report I smashed it- and kept up my daily steps ( sometimes doubling it) and exercise routine for the entire year- with the odd rest and travel day for balance.

This year? Dry January comes with a 30 Soft twist — because February travel means some days the only steps I’ll get are to the cooler… to top up my prosecco.

Grace, after all, is growth too.

And now I’m wondering — should I do a chapter on Dry January, discipline, and carnival body prep?

We’ll see what the next blog brings.

About the Author

Sarala Rambachan is a corporate attorney, governance advisor, mentor, and writer exploring leadership, healing, ambition, and authenticity through lived experience. Life in Chapters is her space to reflect honestly — without performance — on the seasons that shape us.

Clue of the Week

Acceptance doesn’t mean you approve of what happened — it means you stop fighting reality.