Thank you, 2025. You gave me so many things in my life—lessons, realizations, and growth—but you also gave me many losses, pain, and moments where I felt completely broken. This year tested me in ways I never expected, and I truly hope this is the last year I have to carry this much weight on my heart. I’m so tired of struggling, tired of always being strong, tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not. I hope the next year is kinder to me, that I meet the right people, people who choose me without me having to beg or explain my worth. I’ve learned the hard way not to expect too much from people, because expectations only left me feeling empty. I quit my job this year because my last company wasn’t good for me, and even though that decision was scary, it was necessary. Now I’m trying to build my life through freelance work, step by step, hoping something stable finds me soon.

But beyond work, what hurts the most is how lonely I feel. I like everyone, I care deeply, yet most of the time I feel like a stranger everywhere I go—like I’m just a guest in people’s lives, never someone’s priority, never someone’s first choice. I’m exhausted from playing this guest role, from being temporary in everyone’s world. In 2026, I don’t want to feel invisible anymore. I want to matter to someone. I want to be chosen, not tolerated. I crave love so badly, not because I’m weak, but because I’m human, because I have a heart that gives too much and receives too little. I’m okay being an independent, strong woman, but I also want to be soft sometimes. I want to be held, understood, and cared for. I want to live my “just a girl” era too, where I don’t have to fight every battle alone. Sometimes it feels like even the world understands me better than people do, like my feelings are seen by algorithms but not by humans. God, if you’re listening, please send someone who can heal me—or give me the strength to heal myself. I’m tired of questioning my worth, tired of asking why it’s always me, tired of feeling like I don’t deserve love. My heart deserves something gentle, something real, at least once. I’m sorry to myself for all the pain I’ve endured silently, but I still choose to believe that love will find me, and that one day I won’t feel this alone anymore.