If you had told me a year ago that I’d be writing a post like this, clear-headed, grounded, and dare I say… hopeful? I probably would’ve laughed. Or more likely, shut down completely and changed the subject. But here I am, at the start of 2025, taking a deep breath and recognizing just how far I’ve come.

This past year has been nothing short of transformative. Not in a sparkly, overnight-makeover kind of way, but in the “I had to crawl through the mud to get here” kind of way. At one point, I found myself standing at a crossroads. I had to make a choice: keep running in circles, repeating old, damaging patterns that were hurting both myself and others, or finally make a conscious effort to change.

I chose change.

I won’t pretend it’s been easy. There were days I wanted nothing more than to shut down, go numb, or fall back into the coping mechanisms that once kept me safe (or at least felt safe). But I knew that nothing good was waiting for me down that road. So I kept pushing forward. And with each step, I discovered something new: a little more strength, a little more clarity, and, maybe most surprisingly, a growing sense of calm.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel genuinely confident. I’m learning what being happy actually means on my own terms. And what’s even more telling? I don’t just hear from others that I’ve changed. I feel it in my bones. That’s a first.

The Big Shift: Accepting My CPTSD

Acknowledging that diagnosis fully and, more importantly, what caused it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Facing the reality of my childhood abuse meant admitting it was real and that it left a mark. That pain had been bottled up for so long, I wasn’t sure I could survive letting it out. But I did. And I’m still standing. Actually, I’m standing taller.

It’s taken me a while to get here. And by “here,” I don’t mean some finish line. There’s still work to do. Healing, for me, isn’t linear; it’s messy and ongoing. But the weight I’ve carried for so long feels lighter now. And in that lightness, I’m finding freedom. Not total freedom yet, but something close, and that’s more than enough.

The Unexpected Gift of a New Year

I’ve never been the “new year, new me” type. That’s always felt like Instagram nonsense. But weirdly enough… this does feel like a new me stepping into a new year. A me who’s learned to appreciate the small wins, the quiet moments, and the people who’ve stuck by me through it all.

handle it all alone. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t.

I’ve lost a lot this year, it’s true. But I’ve gained just as much, maybe even more. I’ve gained perspective, peace, and purpose. I’ve let go of the survival strategies that no longer serve me and made room for better things. Real things. Things that bring me joy, not just distraction.

And to the people in my life who’ve believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself, thank you. Your support gave me the courage to become the version of Jack I’ve always hoped I could be.

So here’s to 2025: a blank page. I plan to fill it with new beginnings, lots of healing, and even more moments of joy. One step at a time.