2025 showed me this. That strength doesn't always roar. Sometimes it whispers, "Try again tomorrow." And that has been enough to carry me through days I never thought I'd survive. Hearned that sharing my truth isn't weakness. It's how I stitched myself back together. Not to be pitied- but to be honest, whole, and finally free. Healing didn't arrive all at once. It showed up in small, brave decisions: choosing softness over bitterness, choosing growth over familiarity, choosing myself even when it hurt. Not everyone will understand my journey. Some will rewrite it. Some will judge it. But my heart remembers every step it took to stay alive-and that is all the validation I need. Walking away didn't ruin me. It returned me to myself. It created room for calm that doesn't exhaust me, for love that doesn't demand I disappear, for a life that feels steady, honest, and mine. What's meant for me won't require me to beg or prove my worth. It will meet me where I stand. It will stay. And it will feel like exhaling-like finally coming home.