Dear 2025

 

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 letting the good filter through
in the ways I least expect.
And if you bring new challenges,
I will face them.
If you bring more beauty,
I will hold it close.
And if you bring nothing extraordinary at all,
I will still find meaning
in the simple act of moving forward.

With hope,
The one who remembers how far they’ve come.