January 1, 2025
The world keeps spinning, and here we are again. It’s another year, another January, and I’m sitting here with the same eerie quiet I always feel on the first day of the year. No aliens have come to invade, no apocalypse has wiped out humanity, and no grand cosmic shift has turned us into enlightened beings overnight. Disappointing, really. It’s not that I wish harm on anyone. I don’t. But sometimes I wonder if humanity needs something bigger than itself to remind us we’re not the center of the universe. Something to jolt us out of our self-absorbed, predictable, empathy-starved existence.
Humans are a wild contradiction. Capable of so much beauty, yet drowning in selfishness. We’ve crafted masterpieces and sent machines to the stars, but we still can’t figure out how to treat each other with decency. Most people move through life like emotional scavengers—taking what they can, offering nothing in return. And I’ve spent far too much of my time giving, hoping, wishing… for what? To feel seen? To feel wanted? To fit into spaces where I’ve never belonged? Fuck that.
This year is different. It has to be.
I’ve decided 2025 is my year of not giving a damn about being validated by anyone else. I’m shedding the skin of the old me, the one who needed to be needed to feel whole. No more being the first to extend kindness, to show love, to initiate connection. I’m tired of starting the fire just so someone else can warm their hands. If someone wants me in their life, they’ll have to meet me halfway. Hell, they’ll have to meet me where I stand.
This journey isn’t going to be easy. It’s not like I can flip a switch and stop craving the “you matter” moments I’ve been chasing my whole life. That kind of rewiring takes time, effort, and a lot of unlearning. I’ve always been the giver, the one who shows up, the one who reaches out first. I thought that made me strong, but maybe it just made me a crutch for people who didn’t deserve the weight I carried for them.
So here’s my mantra for the year: I am enough. Just me. As I am. Without doing, without proving, without screaming into the void for someone to look up and notice I exist. That’s the life I’m manifesting—a life where I don’t feel invisible unless I’m waving my hands in someone’s face. A life where I feel wanted, not because of what I do or give, but simply because of who I am.
There’s this tiny, fragile voice in me that still says, “But what if no one notices you at all?” And to that voice, I say, “So be it.” If the people in my life can’t see my value without me jumping through hoops, then maybe they don’t belong in my world. It’s terrifying to think of letting go of the need for validation, but maybe terror is part of growth. Maybe it’s the price of freedom.
I want to feel beautiful in my own skin this year. Not in the shallow, filtered, Instagram-like way, but in the raw, real, unshakable sense that I am worthy, whole, and lovable just as I am. I’m tired of feeling like I have to buy my way into someone’s attention or affection—whether with gifts, words, or acts of service. I want to exist in a space where I don’t have to do anything for someone to care about me.
This is my year of screaming less into the void and whispering more to myself, “You are enough.” And if no one else hears me, I’ll know that I’m still here, standing tall in my own worth. I don’t need someone else to complete me, validate me, or love me first. I can be my own sanctuary.
To anyone else out there who feels like they’re starting this year in a similar place, know this: You are strong. You deserve joy. You are worth loving without having to prove it. Let’s be loners together, finding peace in the stillness of our own company and building lives that feel full, even if they’re not crowded.
Here’s to us, to this journey, to a new year of being unapologetically enough.