a love letter to the year that held me...

a love letter to the year that held me,

to the sunset skies that reminded me the day didn’t have to end in darkness,

to the belly laughs that saved entire weeks,

to the nights i held myself through disappointment,

to the deep breaths i took before answering,

and the boundaries i set with hands that were still shaking.

to the 2am tears that finally had space to fall,

to the texts i typed and deleted and typed again,

to the moments that brought me to my knees before they brought me back to myself,

to the midnight unraveling and the swollen eyes in bathroom mirrors,

to the softness that followed like an apology from the universe,

and to every moment that asked me to stay with myself instead of leave, thank you.

thank you to the moments that softened me and the ones that stretched me,

to the laughter that brought me back, and the tears that set me free.

thank you to the boundaries that protected me,

the softness that found me,

and the ache that taught me i was still becoming.

thank you for helping me grow,

in all the ways i didn’t know i needed.

this year asked a lot of me.

some days i showed up with grace,

some days i showed up shaking,

but i showed up.

this year was not what i expected,

and yet, somehow, it was exactly what i needed.

i learned that endings don’t always arrive like slammed doors,

sometimes they slip in quietly,

in the way you stop defending what hurts,

in the way your body whispers, this version of me deserves more.

i learned that healing is not heroic or loud,

sometimes it’s choosing rest over guilt,

softness over performance,

silence over explanations no one has earned the right to hear.

i learned that love can feel like support, not sprinting,

like room to breathe, not room to prove,

like staying whole, not shrinking to be chosen.

i learned that choosing myself isn’t a crime against love, it’s an act of it.

it’s how i stay true to my future,

and how i remember i’m allowed to belong to me too.

i learned i can be both a therapist and a human,

that i can guide others through their storms

without drowning in my own.

i learned that boundaries aren’t walls to hide behind, they’re doorways i walk through to reach the life i’m meant to live.

i learned i’m allowed to grow,

to choose myself with both hands,

to want more without apology,

to build a life i’m in love with, the kind i wake up grateful to belong to.

so here’s to every version of me who held more than she could name,

to the girl who gave everything she had,

to the woman learning the art of release,

to the heart still grieving and still growing,

and to the one opening her hands

to receive what aligns, supports, and stays.

and here’s to everything still on its way:

to the wonder waiting in rooms i haven’t opened yet,

to mornings that feel like fresh air in my lungs,

to days that settle around me like a soft blanket of safety,

to the kind of laughter that grows in my chest and refuses to shrink,

and to the light that will find me, spilling into every corner of my life.

i am walking into the new year with love in my chest

and gratitude like sunlight in my hands,

thankful for the lessons that stretched me,

the challenges that refined me,

and the future already calling my name.

i arrive wiser now, softer in the places that matter,

stronger where it counts,

and ready to be astonished by what waits ahead.

this year, i choose the person i’m becoming.

this year, i refuse to shrink.

this year, i arrive.

-- yours trulee <3