Witty Whispers

  Dear 2025, I greet you with a strange kind of gratitude, because 2024- unexpectedly, beautifully- was kind to me. Not in a perfect, ideal, Instagram-filtered way, but in the way that matters most: I grew. I healed. I learned to breathe again. 2024 wasn’t without its storms, but somehow, they passed without tearing me apart. I felt joy in the smallest of moments- the sound of laughter filling a quiet room, the warmth of hugs, the subtle triumphs that no one claps for. And now, 2025, I don’t expect you to outshine your predecessor. I don’t need you to. This isn’t a competition of years, and I’ve learned not to measure life by milestones or Instagram-worthy highlights. What I ask of you is simpler- just let me carry this quiet contentment forward. I promise not to demand perfection, but I will ask for grace- grace to stumble, to fail, to find my footing again. Because even in a good year, there are cracks, and that’s okay. So, 2025, here’s to being human, to...