The Wood Snake: The Year Everything Changes

Growing up, my parents would take us to a Chinese restaurant, and I was always fascinated by the Chinese horoscopes. I knew I was the snake, but each time, I hoped the Chinese Zodiac table placements would be different, that I would be a stronger, more confident animal, because to me, a snake was evil, sneaky, and brought negativity. I thought that if I were something else, I’d present as this confident and strong little girl ready to conquer the world.

In the Chinese Zodiac, the Wood Snake represents transformation, change, and wisdom gained through tension and growth that occur beneath the surface. It is not loud or impulsive. It sheds its skin slowly, intentionally, and permanently.

The last time the world experienced a year of the Wood Snake was in 1965, and the similarities between 1965 and 2025 are surprising. 

1965 was a year when social systems were openly challenged. While progress was made, it was not met without resistance, discomfort, and unrest.

2025 mirrors this same energy. Institutions, norms, and beliefs are being questioned. Not as loudly as in 1965, but persistently.

In both years, the generational divide is prominent. In 1965, a widening gap emerged between younger generations, who were pushing for change, and older generations, who were clinging to stability and tradition. In 2025, this tension remains, but it’s amplified by technology, social media, news stations, and lived realities.

Most importantly, in 1965, significant social progress was met with cultural backlash. It involved some of the same issues we face today, such as voting rights, civil rights, healthcare, immigration reform, and more.

1965 was the year the United States could no longer turn a blind eye and pretend, while 2025 felt like the year we’re finally deciding what we are willing to let go of.

The Wood Snake doesn’t force change. Just like a snake, it waits, observes, and then undergoes a complete transformation. 1965 and 2025 weren’t about instant resolution but about shedding the illusions without knowing what comes next.

As I look back on 2025, I realize something unexpected: the same thing happening in the world has been happening in me, too. This year was about shedding versions of myself that no longer aligned; it was about redefining boundaries and learning to let go when something no longer serves me, even if I can’t control the next step. It was a year of quiet decisions that didn’t feel brave, and where change didn’t announce itself, it just kept accumulating.  It was a year of learning where I end, and others begin, not absorbing what was never meant for me to carry, and choosing clarity over harmony.

This was my year. The year I learned that empathy without boundaries is self-destruction. That I take responsibility for others’ emotions out of obligation/guilt and not compassion. This year, I was asked to sit in discomfort rather than smoothing it over.

I learned that trusting the truth is safer than silence and choosing honesty, even when it’s messy, is a way to protect peace. And woven all through this was trauma healing. The kind where your nervous system goes into overdrive, and your body reacts before your mind can catch up. That growth feels disorienting and not empowering, at first.

All these lessons appeared in different spaces, with different people, wearing different faces, and were connected through it all.

The Wood Snake doesn’t demand transformation; it waits until the old skin no longer fits, and this year, maybe the snake was loud enough that I finally listened.

In 2026, the year of the Fire Horse, a very different question is asked. What will I do with what has been freed?

As I enter 2026, I’m lighter, no longer running away, but I’m carrying the momentum and moving towards the person I already am inside.

2026 isn’t a year about proving; it’s a year of choosing.