✧ 2025 ✧ A Year I Lived Inside My Own Skin
I entered 2025 carrying more than I admitted. Stress I had normalized. Pain I had minimized. Stories about myself that no longer fit—but hadn’t yet been set down. This was not the year everything changed. This was the year I changed how I listened . I learned that my body was not betraying me; it was telling the truth long before my mouth could. I stopped asking What is wrong with me? and began asking What do I need to stay whole? I did not escape the systems that exhaust me, but I built buffers, boundaries, and language. I practiced choosing enough over everything . I honored my creativity not as output, but as remembrance — through essays, vignettes, journaling-as-ritual, and the slow, cosmic redrawing of my life’s Etch-a-Sketch. I reclaimed nourishment: food as care, rest as necessary, ritual as grounding. I marked time not just by tasks completed, but by what I built with my hands and what I consecrated with intention. I allowed myself to be seen. I let s...