12/23/2025
At the end of every year, I write myself a letter. I write it on paper, seal it, and open it exactly one year later. Usually, I write about my plans and expectations, things I wish for myself, what I hope to integrate in the coming year, how I want to feel, and where I imagine I might be.
Today, I wanted to open last year’s letter and realized that I somehow lost it. I have a very specific place where I keep these letters, but this one simply was not there. It is okay, better luck next year.
Even without reading it, I can say this with certainty, my year looked nothing like I expected it to look like. And yet, I published a workbook I started working on back in January. I licensed my art. I revamped my art side hustle more times than I can count, and I have a strong feeling I will probably do it again next year.
I change, I try things, I fail, I pivot, I adjust, I adapt. This is not a straight line, but it is honest, and it is what makes my journey mine.
As this year comes to a close, I am choosing to let that be enough.
