Dear Twenty 25

2025

A whole year passed, and I still do not understand how a year can hold this much when my brain clearly has very limited storage. Honestly, how is that even fair? As the year ends, I am choosing to focus on the good things, which I can count on one or two fingers, max. But I am a positive sunshine person, so we move forward anyway.

Somewhere along the way, I started noticing smaller things. How quiet mornings feel like they are speaking softly. How some days do not need fixing. How it is okay to sit with a feeling instead of running away from it like it is going to chase me. Some things ended this year. Some things started. Some things quietly changed shape. Not everything asked for closure. Life rearranged itself while I was busy just trying to get through the day.

Did I figure life out? No. Did I suddenly become wise? Also no. I am still confused most days. But I did learn how to pause. And I think that counts as growth. At least a little.

Before the year even started, I got influenced by all those vision board reels. I did not have an actual board at home, so I unwrapped one of my favorite notebooks instead. It genuinely felt like betrayal, but dreams require sacrifice, apparently.

I made a vision diary. I knew myself well enough, so I did not write any unrealistic goals. Now I do not remember half of what I wrote, and I am way too lazy to get up and find the diary. But I do remember a few things. Saving money to buy things I like. Reopening my work. Doing the things I love. And the fact that some of these things actually happened, even a little bit, still feels magical to me. Like the universe was listening. Or at least half listening.

I also did something that was not on my vision board at all. I started feeding as many cats and dogs as I could on my way. Somewhere during the year, I began carrying cat food in my bag like it was completely normal behavior. Cats and dogs running up to me became a regular thing. The way they look at you with trust and excitement is a feeling I never want to trade for anything.

Most importantly, I tried to keep little Anikah happy. I bought a Harry Potter side bag without thinking twice. I really wanted to buy a Jhilmili balloon too, but it was too expensive and I was very broke. Still, I promised her that the next time I see one and have the money, it is coming home with me. No discussion.

The other day, I was washing the pot we use for making tea, and suddenly I remembered something. When I was much younger, I was scared of washing that pot. Just looking at it felt overwhelming. So I would wash everything else and leave the pot in the sink, hoping someone else would magically deal with it. One day, for no dramatic reason at all, I decided to wash it myself. My inner independent girl showed up, I guess. I soaked it in water, took my time, and washed it. And it was fine. Completely fine.

That tiny moment taught me something no motivational video ever did. Most problems stop looking so scary once you give them a little time. They lose their power when you stop running.

There are moments when I pause and wonder why I am the way I am. Why certain things hurt. Why some things feel familiar even when they shouldn’t. And somewhere in that wondering, I realized something that I will always carry the people I have loved with me forever. Not in a I can never get over them way. In a softer way. Loving them changed me. It meant something. And I am learning to let that be enough.

I remember being ten, when the future felt very far away. Everything was a someday. And now I have one foot in that someday, and nothing feels exactly right. Sometimes all I want is to step back. But the past does not wait. It crumbles the moment I try to hold onto it. There is no going back. Only forward, even if I am walking slowly.

I believe if I do nothing else in this life than make people feel a little more loved when they feel alone, then I have done something right. From just a girl in her room trying to forgive herself, to a girl who realized she always tried her best.

I don't think I'm chasing big moments anymore. I think I’m collecting small ones. The kind you almost miss if you're not paying attention. A good cup of tea. A quiet laugh. A moment where nothing hurts too much. I don’t know if that's growth or just me getting tired, but either way, it feels honest.

Now I see the sun. And even on days I cannot see it, I know it is there. There is comfort in that. I found a quote on Pinterest that said self-care is creating a life you do not routinely have to escape from. I cannot stop thinking about it. So with soft hope and a slightly tired heart, I am signing off from 2025.