my dear december,
the first thing i wanted to say was “please be kind,” but i know you already are. you’re always gentle, even when the world feels a little heavy.
we’re finally settling down and edging closer to the end of the year, a season that makes me more nostalgic than the past 334 days combined. as i sit in front of this screen, memories flash back from january to november, and even though my face remains the same, something deep inside me has shifted forever. it wasn’t like 2024, the year that kept testing me over and over again, but it wasn’t entirely sweet, either. these past eleven months were a long road that led to the first steps of healing — real healing. the proof? november was calm, full of boundaries, and very good for my mind.
that’s why i know, december, you will treat me gently. i’ve learned what i needed to learn. now, it’s time to enjoy what you bring. it’s time to put my new lessons to use.
i want a month filled with hot cocoa milk, with laughter, friends and family around me, with warm sweaters and christmas playlists humming in the background. i want slow mornings, too; the kind that remind me i’m allowed to breathe, that i’m allowed to take my time. december, i want you to be a soft landing. i think i’ve earned that by now.
i want to look back without hurting, to revisit the versions of myself that tried so hard and finally tell them, “we made it.” i want to forgive myself for the days i rushed, the days i cried, the days i wasn’t my best. all of that was part of the journey to this warmer place.
and maybe, december, i also want a little bit of magic… the quiet kind: the message i wasn’t expecting, the hug that lasts longer than usual, the moment where i suddenly realize i’m okay. i want to feel held just enough to remember that i’m not alone.
i will let myself enjoy every small miracle you bring.
and i hope you bring many.