In My Own World

Goodbye, 2025. You were not an easy year to carry. You came with a flood of emotions—sadness, frustration, anger. You reopened wounds I thought had already healed, only to remind me that some pain lingers quietly, waiting for the right moment to resurface. You tested my patience, my strength, and my faith in ways I wasn’t prepared for. Work was especially heavy this year. Plans fell apart. Efforts didn’t always lead where I hoped they would. There were moments when everything felt uncertain, like standing still while the world moved forward without me. And yet—somewhere in the middle of the chaos—came beautiful surprises. The kind that makes you pause and say,  “Who would’ve thought?”  The kind that reminds you that life still knows how to surprise you when you least expect it. 2025 was confusing that way. Painful and hopeful. Disappointing and generous. A year that took so much, but still gave just enough to keep me going. As I let this year go, I hope that 2026 will be the c...

If you open my heart, you won’t find softness right away. You’ll find shattered pieces of glass—sharp, uneven, scattered in places I never learned how to clean up. If you reach in too quickly, your hands will bleed. Not because I wanted to hurt you, but because there are wounds in me that were never given the time to heal. I carry a lot of unhealed things. Some I recognize. Some I’ve learned to live around. Some I pretend don’t exist until they ache unexpectedly. They’ve shaped the way I love, the way I trust, the way I hold on. And maybe Christmas has a way of making all of this louder. It slows the world just enough for feelings to surface. The lights are softer, the nights are quieter, and suddenly there’s space to notice what’s still tender. In a season meant for warmth and celebration, I’m reminded of how fragile the heart can be—and how carefully it needs to be held. So if there’s one message I want to tell myself this Christmas, it’s this: Don’t take everything too seriously. No...