Happy and blessed 2025

As the year comes to a close, I find myself breathing deeply for the first time in what feels like forever. After six years of navigating one storm after another—losing my mom, facing betrayal from friends and business partners, enduring a global pandemic, experiencing abandonment and separation from my husband, heartbreak, liver failure, and losing my dad—the grieving process had been leading me to emotional numbness. Yet, this year offered me something I’d almost forgotten how to feel: space. Space to soften. Space to heal. Space to exist beyond survival mode.

Grief is a multifaceted journey—a process that demands patience, self-compassion, and an unwavering commitment to growth. It has no set timeline, and it often resurfaces in waves, catching us off guard. For me, it was both an anchor and a storm, pulling me into the depths of sorrow while also tethering me to the present moment. It taught me that healing isn’t about erasing pain but learning to live alongside it, to let it shape us in ways that foster resilience and strength.

Healing became my steady companion as I grieved, grew, and navigated the complexities of life. It reminded me to stay present, even when everything felt overwhelming. My family and a few good friends, with their unwavering love and respect for me, kept me grounded when the world seemed unsteady. Their support reminded me that even in life’s darkest seasons, connection can keep us afloat.

And yet, through it all, there was always light. Always. Finding it took courage—a courage that sometimes felt distant but never completely out of reach. It took prayer, trust, and a commitment to deep self-care. It meant opening my heart, even when the weight of grief felt unbearable. It meant choosing to see life’s obstacles not as barriers but as opportunities to grow. Resilience, I learned, is not about being unshakable but about rising after being shaken, time and time again.

This year, I put in the work to clear the residue of those difficult years. I let go of old layers, faced wounds I had long buried, and embraced the messy, beautiful process of transformation. Grief taught me to honor what was lost while embracing what remains. It reminded me that resilience doesn’t mean suppressing emotions but allowing them to flow, to be seen, and to be felt deeply.

I feel stronger now, yet softer. More forgiving, yet fiercely protective of the boundaries that guard my peace. I feel like myself again—and yet, someone entirely new. The grief is still there, but it no longer defines me. Instead, it moves alongside love, creating a tapestry of resilience and beauty.

So here I stand, at the edge of a year that reminded me of my capacity to endure, to evolve, and to thrive. It’s been a year of transformation—a year where resilience wasn’t just about surviving but about living fully, with all of life’s imperfections.

Here’s to the journey—to the light that finds us when we are brave enough to open to it. Here’s to courage, to healing, and to the beauty that comes when we allow ourselves to be seen, both in our brokenness and in our strength.

May the new year 2025 bring more space, more light, and more love to us all.