In less than a month, I’ll be turning the page on another year—a fresh 365 days. And yet, I can’t help but feel that I’m carrying the weight of my mistakes with me. It’s a feeling I know all too well, the result of walking the same path again and again, hoping each time for a different ending. But life doesn’t work that way.
I’ve always believed in the good in people. Believed that kindness, generosity, and giving without expecting anything in return are the way to live. But that belief—pure and unwavering—has brought me here, to this moment where I feel hurt and disillusioned.
The truth is, I need time. Time to make sense of the inconsequences I’ve left behind, the emotional debris of repeating the same mistakes, over and over. Time to heal the wounds I’ve inflicted on myself by ignoring the lessons the world has tried to teach me. Time to sit with the reality that the world I wish for isn’t always the world that exists.
This year has been a harsh reminder of that. I’ve been forced to confront the gap between my intentions and the outcomes, between the goodness I try to put into the world and the hurt I sometimes receive in return. It’s left me raw, wounded, and questioning whether the problem lies in my choices or in my unwillingness to accept that life isn’t always fair.
I think the hardest part of all this is realizing how much it hurts to give so much of yourself—your soul, your trust, your belief—only to face consequences that make you question everything. It’s as though I’ve been living in a familiar world, one I thought I understood, only to wake up and find that I was wrong. That the rules aren’t what I thought they were.
But as I look ahead to the turning of another year, I know I can’t keep going like this. I need to break this cycle, to stop giving so much of myself to situations and people that don’t see or value it. And most importantly, I need to learn to forgive myself—for the mistakes, for the misplaced hope, for the pain that comes with it all.
I need time. Time to process, time to heal, time to learn how to protect myself better. And time to figure out how to stop running this same loop of expecting different results from the same choices.
Life is unjust. It’s ingrained in its very fabric, and though I don’t think I’ll ever stop believing in the goodness of others, I do know I need to balance that belief with the reality of the world. I need to learn to hold back just enough to protect my heart, my soul, my energy. Because if I don’t, I fear there won’t be much left of me to give.
I’m still incredulous at what’s happened to me, at how the things I thought I could trust unraveled. It’s a wound I don’t know how to close just yet. But as I move forward, I know I need to carry the lessons with me, even if they’re hard to face.
So, here I am, standing at the edge of another year, not quite ready to step into it, but knowing I have to. It feels like a moment of reckoning—a quiet pause to ask myself how to move forward without losing the parts of me that matter most.
If you’re reading this, and you’ve ever felt the same way, know that it’s okay to need time. It’s okay to take a step back, to reflect, to forgive yourself for the choices that didn’t turn out the way you hoped. And it’s okay to protect yourself, even if it feels selfish.
Here’s to the lessons of the past year, and to the hope that the time ahead—however long it takes—will bring clarity, peace, and maybe even a sense of renewal.
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