Love deeply, but don’t break yourself in the process. Show up for others—but let them meet you halfway.

Sitting in the corner of a small coffee shop in Amman, Jordan, I promised myself I would write before continuing my journey to Antalya, Turkey on Sunday. The past week—moving through Jordan from Amman to Petra, spending a night under the stars in Wadi Rum, and floating in the Dead Sea with my best friend—has been nothing short of magic. I honestly couldn’t imagine a more beautiful way to close out 2025.

This year has been quietly transformative. It didn’t just give me experiences; it gave me clarity. I learned to stop being available to people who don’t reciprocate. To stop over-giving until there’s nothing left of me. To stop shrinking, softening my needs, or explaining my worth just to be chosen. Somewhere between catching flights and chasing sunsets, I realized how often I was the one showing up—always trying, always holding space, always making things work. And in that realization came permission: I’m allowed to choose myself. I’m allowed to rest. To walk away. To protect my peace without guilt.

I learned that softness is strength. That rest is not laziness. That play, joy, and exploration are not indulgences—they are necessities. You are not behind just because you paused to breathe.

This year, I didn’t just return to the stage and perform pole dance three times (and man, it feels so good to be back). I also discovered boxing and folded it into my weekly routine alongside Pilates, tennis, and dance classes. Yes—she’s busy, and she’s thriving. All of this happened while traveling in and out of different places and juggling two jobs. Sometimes I don’t even know how I manage it all, but these small, consistent joys are what truly shaped my year. Along the way, I learned—maybe for the first time in my life—how to be gentler and softer with myself. I realized I don’t always have to chase big milestones to feel fulfilled; I found peace and solitude in movement, in showing up for my body, and in the quiet joy these routines bring me.

As for next year, I want to take it one day at a time. Life doesn’t always need to be optimized or redesigned. It doesn’t have to be bigger or louder to be better. Maybe it just needs to be truer. It’s not always about more—sometimes, it’s about enough.