2025?!

Bittersweet (adjective) /ˌbɪt.əˈswiːt/

:sweet in memory or feeling, yet tinged with sadness

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2025 was that year. A heavy year filled with bittersweet moments that settled deep in my chest and refused to leave.

One moment I felt okay, almost hopeful, and the next I was so low it felt like I had fallen to the bottom of the barrel with no strength left to cry out, let alone climb out.

This year broke me in ways I didn’t have words for. I smiled through pain that was eating me alive. I learned how to function while hurting, how to keep showing up while feeling empty inside.

I held myself together with prayer and sheer will. Some days I didn’t even know what I was fighting for. I just knew I couldn’t afford to stop moving, because stopping felt dangerous.

I lost parts of myself this year. Parts that were soft, trusting, sure… optimistic. I questioned everything. I almost questioned God.

There were many nights, and even days, when I cried quietly. I cried for myself and for others. Not because I wanted answers, but because I was tired of carrying so much alone, and because my heart ached for a world that feels so broken.

I prayed prayers that felt heavy on my tongue, this year.

I waited when I wanted to run.

And yet, even in all of this, I am grateful. Grateful for the people who showed up, sometimes without knowing how much they were saving me. People who brought light, warmth, love, laughter and meaning into my life when everything felt dark.

I am grateful for conversations, for kindness, for presence.

I am grateful for books, for the way stories became a refuge for me. Pages that held me when I felt unheld. Words that reminded me I was not alone in my feelings, even when I could not explain them out loud.

If 2025 taught me anything, it is that the finish line does not always look like victory. It looks like tears/helplessness/hopelessness but somehow still choosing to believe. That the year ahead will be better.

There were small moments of light, obviously. Gentle reminders of grace. When faith felt like all I had left, and even that felt broken. They felt fragile, like they could disappear at any second, but they mattered. They reminded me that even in my lowest seasons, God had not completely let me go.

I’m ending this year tired strengthened. Changed perhaps. Softer in some places, harder in others. I don’t feel victorious. I don’t feel finished. I just feel real before God. And for now, I think that is enough.

May 2026 be better and greater!!!

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