AND AT LONG LAST, SHE RETURNS.

I don't necessarily think revisiting this blog feels good. I think more than anything, it feels necessary.

This past year has ripped everything I know about myself away from me.

The things I thought were at the crux of my identity mean very little to me all these months later - the friendships and loves that I thought were unshakeable turned out to be not-so-earthquake-proof.

I wish I could look back on 2025 with pride and joy. I felt pride and joy during that time, don't get me wrong, but a lot of this past year felt like time was sliding on before my eyes, and I was a victim to its unstoppable inertia.

Why is life so hard for me to grasp? Why can't I quite get a handle on the reins?

Sometimes spiraling into the pit of doom feels really damn good. Self pity is indulgence in its richest form - a chocolate lava cake of bullshit.

I hate pity.

I hate pitying myself. I hate when others pity me.

It's why I avoid telling people the details of my life at all costs.

I had a friend once ask why I tell people the worst things about me first, rather than lead with my strengths and heart. I think the true answer is I'd prefer to scare off all with a weak stomach before they get the chance to know me.

Before I care enough for them to be able to hurt me when they inevitably leave.

And on most days, I defend that choice with everything I've got.

But today, I can see through the haze just enough to note that that mentality has robbed me of so many connections. It has stripped me of the opportunity to feel so much joy.

And I need joy.

I need opportunity, and freshness, and to feel alive.

Because life is going to keep moving, and I am going to keep aging. And what happens if all this time passes me by and I have no scars or wrinkles or stories to tell? What proof of a life well lived will I have if I let my fear and anxiety keep me at my kitchen counter?

I want to live. I want to live well. I want to feel the crisp, fresh air on my face in the winter somewhere far from home. I want to feel love without bartering for it or defending my right to it in equal measure. I want people to call me first and wonder how I'm doing - and I want to be able to say I'm doing well and mean it.

2025 hurt. But 2026 will heal.

I can feel it.