2025

It seems as if the internet has collectively come to a consensus that 2025 has completely knocked the wind out of them. Like a sucker punch to the gut that has somehow caught you off guard, no matter how prepared you thought you were. And during this time of reflective resets, I can’t help but look back to this time last year and wonder who you were at the end of 2024. Surprise, surprise, she was a remarkably bitter woman. Lacking in love, and purpose, and value.

Surprisingly, I don’t think you can relate to this experience of a brutal 2025. This year felt more like a slow death, as if to test how long this body would last if you were bleeding out on the floor. For better or worse, you survived. And you really put yourself through so much physical pain to numb the emotional scars you still carry (I would like to clarify for the readers at home, this doesn’t mean your typical self-harm, I just never stopped working out).

The feelings you now hold aren’t dissimilar to those you had back then. But I don’t really blame you. Of course, you would be distrustful when you were always having to worry about… Carlotta. Whether you could count on the people you love to show up for you, or whether they were just using you out of convenience. Safe to say, the PTSD really affected your relationships this year. You pushed everyone away—or at least tried to.

No one was safe. The voices in your head echoed. I mean, you even unfollowed many mutuals whom you still love because you couldn’t bear to see the face of the one who hurt you… and kept hurting you. To this day, you’re still painfully reminding yourself he chose Carlotta’s presence over yours (and I hit my head against the wall because of your inability to let this go). Though I suppose it doesn’t help finding out about the third woman a year later, and getting your heart broken all over again.

Imagine how differently 2025 could have gone if some of your friends hadn’t chased after you. The ones that mattered fought for you. Something you felt like you once had to beg for. To be loved. So why are you ashamed that this brings you to tears? You need to stop thinking love is weakness—it’s the very thing that saved you from eternal damnation after all. An irony you still have not overcome.

You’re deeply fearful of being hurt in the same ways—terrified of experiencing the same betrayals, the cuts and bruises—and I don’t blame you. No matter how hard you tried, you were somehow never enough and too much. Not chosen, nor worth the effort to be loved. Messages were ignored, and anxious spirals ensued. Everything was unsafe. Isn’t that why you stopped reaching out first?

Pain left a considerable imprint on your 2025, but you were also extremely thankful for so many good things. For the unexpected chaos of life to keep things interesting, for the many people you met on your travels, and for the loved ones who helped you in more ways than they could imagine. Past working through all the hard feelings, unfolded laundry, undelivered pamphlets, and more. You have no idea how you could even thank the people you love for merely helping to lighten the load. A simple thank you doesn’t quite seem like enough.

There was also an abundance of things to be proud of. And I hope you don’t downplay it like you usually do. Your work is finally being recognised by the right people. You can finally set foot in a bouldering gym without having a panic attack thinking about… well, those two together. And you low-key became really scary with the amount of time you spent at the gym (though I’m not sure this is something to be proud of). But you did it. You’re still here.

So now, as I steadily breathe through the big feelings while writing this, I can say this with certainty. No matter how good things get, it still hurts to think about the pain. However, the only way out is through the mess. And 2025 has been very messy. But it has also been beautiful. I have gazed upon the night sky too many times to count, and have fallen in love with the moon. I have received so much joy from friends that I look back to 2024, when I was heavily neglected and wonder why I endured it for so long.

The biggest takeaway from it all… is that love hurts. So, so much. But do I think love is worth it? A lot of the time, I couldn’t truthfully say that it was. Yet, God thought a relationship with us was worth it. Through this simple and powerful truth, I am reminded how deceitful my heart can be, and how much I fall short. Love is an endless sacrifice, and still, our Heavenly Father decided it was worth it.

As I reflect on the pain that I carry, I have learnt to appreciate Him more and more because of it. Especially over Christmas, when I could revel in the joy knowing that Jesus was born. And I may never be freed from this inconsolable ache, but it comforts me to take to heart how deeply I am known and loved by Him.