i'm back
new years and all of that
Hello. I am back from my little hiatus.
Dec 23rd, 2025.
I have spent the past five days at the beach. I just got home and I don’t know how I feel. Tired? Exhausted? Relieved? Horrible? Joyful? Regretful? Yes, probably all of the above. It’s sad to be back in the city after being away in such a peaceful environment.
I got horribly sunburnt, but I have survived and it was nice to have some warmth quite literally radiating from my skin during the cold nights, so, I guess I won at a loss.
I went to my favorite spots and got to share them with a friend. It made me think of how badly I want to share those places with my people, and hopefully my future people, too. It felt intimate. Views, foods, corners in that little town that served as shelter through many years of my life, many stages and chapters. — The human experience is fucking great.
Dec 31st, 2025.
The year is ending, which means a new one will come, and new adventures will fill the pages of my journal. I feel older than who I was in January… and sure, I had a birthday, but I feel much older than just a year older. There’s this calm settling over me, and it has been for a bit… like a fog approaching the coast. This sort of feeling that there’s no more fighting, no more struggling; I can finally breathe.
The things, the people that used to hurt don’t hurt as they used to. The days of the calendar had gone by and I have gathered a teaspoon of wisdom to add to the recipe of my scandalous personality. I’ve seen the four seasons and I’ve had great company through them. I met new people, I met families, and some I got to know better; I showed them what was under my skin all along. — So much unconditional love and support, too.
I wrote and wrote and wrote… and like every writer I think I could have written more. But I wrote. My writing is on its own adventure now, so to speak. It went through naked eyes that were certainly not my familiar ones, and I allowed myself to have some pride, some praise. — I fell in love with writing again.
I think I fell in love with myself and THANK GOD I didn’t fall in love with the one love interest this year because THEY WEREN’T GOOD FOR ME… but I learned my lesson and I saw clearly after years of the recurring pattern of being so incredibly afraid of being rejected.
I was rejected this year! So many times.
The query process was a chore, a bore, an exciting opportunity, an upcoming future, an anxiety, a bliss, a step closer to the goal. I got rejected many times, and I got a couple interested in between the NOs… NOs towards the big YES that is to come any time now.
Frustration went down, anxiety went down, stress went down… and confidence came to meet me fully.
I don’t really do resolutions, but I do feel intuitive regarding a few things when the year is about to end. — December is my rebirth, my karma, my hibernation and my hint for the new year. Last year in December I got the hint of what would come, what candle would light the way… and this year I spent it working on my projects, aiming higher towards where I knew I had to go… this December I got a hint as well, so I know next year I’ll be bored to death with logistics, some waiting, hoping, achieving, creating… and more. — I’m excited to be absolutely exhausted, because I know all the hard work will pay off.
I wrote this tonight after sudden inspiration struck (it lasted about ten minutes and it went away):
It was this itch to tell a story that drove her to where she currently was. It was this view she had been waiting for throughout her whole life. It was this feeling in her chest, catharsis. Lydia had put her every thought into this present, this bliss that came after so much work, so many sleepless nights, so much introspection she’d eventually get a headache and call it a day.
It had been a decade and some more in the making, a vision so clear, so precise, so spectacular she sometimes lost herself, thinking a dream might just be a dream.
She began to understand dreams could be as serious as taxes, doing the laundry and saving up. Lydia understood that it was real because it mattered to her. It was genuine because it came from the heart, not the ego.
The present she built came from a lot of laughter and a lot of tears. It came from joys in between pains and facing demons in the mirror. She’d come out a brave, fearless butterfly.
In the end, not everything’s perfect. If perfect was real, things would be so dull, so lifeless. If perfect was real, the struggle would never come and the resilience after it wouldn’t either. If perfection showed us the path, we wouldn’t have to go anywhere and therefore there would be no learning obstacle in the adventure of life.
To the ones that were part of my 2025, I appreciate the hell out of you.
Happy new year!