Christmas Eve 2025

I took a moment tonight to watch the sun go down on Christmas Eve, 2025.
Not in a dramatic way. Just quietly. One of those pauses where your body speaks before your mind catches up.

This is the first Christmas I am not seeing my son that sits heavy.

I had a beautiful lunch with my daughter and my grandson. There was, laughter, connection the kind that reminds you what really matters. I’m grateful for that time.
And still, my body is struggling. Yesterday’s long drive has left me sore, fatigued, and reminded once again that pushing through always comes at a cost.

Last year at this time, life looked very different.
I was preparing for surgery while my brother was listed as a missing person. Everything was survival mode crisis management, emotional containment, doing what needed to be done without falling apart. I held it all together quietly, because that’s what I’ve always done.

This year doesn’t feel very Christmassy.
sitting in a room full of people where I clearly don’t belong. The feeling is familiar a reminder of long-standing dysfunction, of spaces where presence is expected but belonging is optional.

I haven’t been celebrated for my birthday in years.
I don’t receive the invites.
I don’t get checked on.
And when I needed support most, it wasn’t there.

I’ve always put my own needs aside for the kids. Always.
I’ve made myself smaller to keep the peace, swallowed discomfort to avoid conflict, and shown up even when it cost me emotionally, physically, and mentally. That pattern has been dressed up as strength for a long time.

But tonight, watching the sun disappear, something landed clearly and without drama:

I will not continue to abandon myself to make others comfortable.

Next year, my boundaries will be firm.
Not loud. Not aggressive. Just immovable.

I will no longer over-extend, over-explain, or over-give.
I will no longer sit in spaces where I am merely tolerated instead of valued.
I will no longer carry relationships that do not carry me back.

This isn’t bitterness.
It isn’t punishment.
And it isn’t a reaction it’s a decision.

Choosing myself isn’t selfish.
It’s long overdue.