This year, I walk with seeds in hand,
To cultivate dreams, to grow and stand.
A garden of truth, where courage takes root,
With love as my anchor and self-worth as my fruit.
I’ll learn from the earth, her wisdom and grace,
Craft healing remedies in this sacred space.
A student of nature, her word I’ll heed,
To nurture my spirit and plant what I need.
The voice inside, once soft, now clear,
Will echo with purpose, unfazed by fear.
Through words, I’ll inspire, through truth, I’ll ignite,
A beacon of hope, a source of light.
Steps once faltered, now steady and bold,
Guided by faith, by strength I uphold.
The past may have scarred, but its lessons remain,
A testament of healing through joy and through pain.
I’ll craft my own path, a website, a name,
A space to empower, to stoke the flame.
Sharing my story, my trials, my climb,
Proving that healing transcends space and time.
For family and self, my heart will expand,
As I teach, as I love, as I firmly stand.
I’ll honor the past, its lessons, its pain,
And greet each new day with gratitude’s refrain.
2025, a year to embrace,
With goals that align, with a steady pace.
A journey of purpose, of dreams redefined,
An alchemist’s vision, both dark and light intertwined.

Dear Unsealers,

In May, I planted garlic. It wasn’t much—just a few cloves from my sister-in-law’s house, buried with hope beneath the soil.

I’d read that garlic sprouts in about two weeks. So, I waited. I watered. I checked that spot every day. Weeks passed, then months, and still—nothing.

My girls, kind but honest, told me to let it go. “It’s not going to grow, Mom.” And maybe they were right. Maybe I was watering empty soil, chasing something that would never bloom. But I couldn’t stop myself. I held on, stubborn as ever, because, what if?

I must have looked foolish, still tending to what looked like failure, month after month. And then, one day, I stopped. Not because I had given up entirely, but because I was tired. I hadn’t watered that spot in weeks, hadn’t checked on it either. I’d quietly moved on, carrying that little ache of disappointment with me.

But life has a funny way of surprising us.

Out of nowhere, a green sprout appeared—small, vibrant, alive. I stared at it, stunned. Against all odds, after all that time, the garlic had grown.

That moment was more than a sprout to me. It was proof that sometimes, things take longer than they “should.” Growth doesn’t always happen when or how we expect it to. Just because something looks still doesn’t mean it isn’t alive beneath the surface.

This year, that garlic taught me about faith—the quiet kind that keeps going when there’s no evidence to keep believing. It taught me about letting go, too. Sometimes we try so hard to force something to happen, but when we step back, we give it space to grow.

So here’s what I’ll remember as the year ends: miracles take time. Don’t stop believing in the things you’ve planted. Don’t stop believing in yourself. Even when the world says it’s hopeless, even when you’re tired of waiting—keep going. Because the moment you least expect it, life will break through, whispering, “See? It was happening all along.”

Forever Growing,

Dear Me,

There are things we carry that are hard to name, memories that linger and pull at us, reminders of moments when we didn’t show up the way we wanted to. I know this pain deeply, the regret, the weight of not having always been the mom we dreamed of being. I know the ache of looking back and wishing we could have done things differently. And I know how hard it is to live with that kind of hurt.

Yet, even as I hold these regrets, I am starting to see the ways we have tried to do better. I’m beginning to understand that when I don’t show up for myself in a healthy, loving way, I can’t truly show up that way for her, either. To be the mom she deserves, I need to have compassion for myself first, to hold my own heart with kindness. And though it’s hard, I am learning that this self-compassion is how I’ll be able to love her in the way she deserves.

I want to thank you for having the courage to face this, for being willing to grow and to keep trying. I’m grateful for the way we keep moving forward, finding faith not just in who we want to be but in who we are right now. We’ve learned that self-love doesn’t come easily, not when there are shadows and things we wish we could change. But even in the darkest moments, we found reasons to keep going, to keep showing up.

Our daughter is a gift, a light that reminds us every day of what’s possible. And so, I’m choosing to hold space for all that we are, to see ourselves not only for what we didn’t do, but also for everything we’re still becoming. Thank you for the love you’re learning to give, for finding the faith to move forward. With every step toward self-love, I trust we’re becoming stronger, for ourselves and for her.

With compassion and faith,
Ourselves

Dear Unsealers,

There’s a moment in life when things change, not just on the outside but deep within. For me, that moment wasn’t a big, dramatic event—it was more like a whisper, one that slowly grew louder until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I spent a lot of time trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, thinking that if I checked all the boxes, I’d finally be happy. I wanted to protect everyone, be the best mom, wife, and person I could be, and still somehow find time for myself. But something was missing. I was disconnected from myself, from the love I wanted to feel and share.

The turning point came when I realized that the love I was searching for wasn’t out there—it was already within me. I had to learn to love myself first, to stop depending on others for validation, and to connect with my own heart and soul. It wasn’t easy, but that moment—realizing that I am enough just as I am—changed everything. I stopped chasing perfection and started living with intention. I learned that real power comes from within, and when we embrace who we truly are, we not only heal ourselves but also the people around us.

Now, every day, I try to live with that understanding: that love, kindness, and compassion are choices we make, starting with how we treat ourselves. That’s my turning point—when I realized that in order to give to others, I had to first find peace within myself.

With Love & Light,