Dear 2025,

I didn’t know how to greet you when you arrived. I stepped into you carrying exhuastion from the year before, quiet hope in my chest, and a lot of unanswered questions. I never wanted you to be easy, just honest. And honest you were.

You stretched me in ways I didn’t anticpate. You begged me to show up even when I felt unsure, to lead while still learning, and to love people deeply without guarantees. You taught me that growth rarely is glamorous. It is consistency, discomfort, choosing to stay soft in a world that demands hard edges.

You held some of my most sacred moments. I graduated college, started grad school, and ran a half marathon. Each milestone a reminder of how far my body, mind, and heart have carried me. I met one of my best friends this year. I watched my nephew grow up in real time, witnessing the quiet miracle of his becoming and feeling my own heart expand alongside him. Conversations with loved ones cracked my heart open and rearranged my own priorities. And small joys like movement, lots of laughter, Dancing with the Stars anchored me when the world felt so loud.

But, you weren’t gentle all the time. You brought goodbyes. You brought uncertainty. You brought days where I questioned myself more than I believed in myself. And still, you refused to let me stay the same. You taught me that faith isn’t about having all the answers, its continuing to walk forward with trust, even when the path is foggy.

Because of you, I am more brave. Not louder, not tougher, braver in the quiet ways. Braver in asking for help. Braver in naming what I want. Braver in believing that joy and grief can coexist, and neither one cancels out the other.

So thank you, 2025, for the lessons I didn’t know I needed. For the people who stayed. For the people who left. For the version of myself I get to carry forward, the one who knows her valued, honors her limits, and keeps choosing love anyway.

I release you now with gratitude, not regret. You did what you came to do.

With love,

Sage