I’ve spent so much time this year focused on what happened to me — the hardship, the weight I carried, the people who didn’t show up, the ones that kicked me down and made sure I stayed there, the ones that turned away because it was all too much — that I almost missed what I gained along the way. The ones who did show up. The friends I made when I wasn’t at my best. The people who chose me at my worst. The moments that revealed the true capacity of my strength. The lessons that I learned despite or because of it. And most importantly, the depth of love I discovered within myself — for my family, my friends, and even for strangers who crossed my path. I have come to learn that I am so much more than the pain that holds me under water on the most difficult days.

This is who I am. Even when life knocks me down, I still show up. I still choose love. And if that isn’t something to be proud of, I don’t know what is.

I learned that we have to try to meet people where they are, not where we expect them to be. And that takes conscious effort. Understanding human capacity — the ability to show up for another person in the chaos of life in 2025 takes not just effort, but determination, drive, and a kind of quiet, solid commitment.

And in a world that teaches us to love ourselves first, to put our needs before all else, I keep asking: Where do I end, and another begin?
How do we tell the difference between self-love and selfishness?
Where is the line between selflessness and placation?

Balance — that elusive balance — is what it all comes down to. A balance that isn’t clear, that demands self-learning, unlearning, and relearning; breaking old habits and outdated coping mechanisms; reassessing old survival skills and adapting them to what we need today, not what we once needed to endure.

And when the world keeps moving, when time refuses to slow down for anyone, where do we find the space to teach ourselves all of this without shedding everyone and everything that no longer serves our growth?

Because in the end, what truly matters isn’t what we built, but how we built — and who we become in the process.
Isn’t our truest legacy the person we leave behind in the memories of those we encounter?
Ultimately, isn’t that the real measure of a life well-lived?

Love Always,