There are only two days left to 2026, and I can feel the year exhaling. It’s more like a long, tired breath, the type we let out after we’ve carried too much and are finally allowed to sit down.
This year taught me how slow change really is and how growth doesn’t reveal itself before it happens, visible enough for everyone to see. Sometimes it looks like staying when leaving would have been easier, other times. it looks like leaving even when your hands are still shaking. I also learned that healing isn’t linear; it circles back, taps you on the shoulder, and asks about your readiness.
I lost versions of myself I thought I needed. I held on to others longer than I should have. I learned that not everything broken is meant to be fixed and not everything or everyone that chooses to be quiet is empty.
Two days to 2026, and I still can’t wrap my head around an expectation but I’m not rushing. I’m letting the year finish its sentence, letting the disappointments rest, allowing the small wins to finally feel like wins and of course I am open to myself, admitting that I survived things I don’t yet have language for.
If 2025 was about endurance, maybe 2026 will be more about intention. More of me choosing softly but standing firmly, loving wholeheartedly without shrinking and just becoming without owing anyone an apology.
So for now, I’m here, between what was and what’s coming. I am grateful, perhaps a little wiser and pretty much still learning.
Two days left. And that feels like enough time to say thank you.
