December has never been a time of peaceful slowing down for me. While many people settle into the holiday spirit, I often feel the weight of the entire year pressing down on me even more. As an artist and entrepreneur, December is not a quiet closing chapter — it’s a moment of truth. A moment to look back, take a deep breath, and admit how difficult the year actually was.
This year was no exception. I struggled more than I wanted to admit. There were days when the uncertainty felt overwhelming:
Am I moving in the right direction? Am I enough to build the life I want for my son? Is it worth pushing forward when everything feels like an uphill battle?
Being self-employed can feel incredibly lonely. There’s no steady income, no guaranteed safety, no one to solve problems for you. Every step, every decision, every mistake is yours alone. Some days that gives me strength. Other days it becomes a weight I can barely carry.
But despite the challenges, something kept pulling me back to the core of who I am: creating. Art became my refuge this year. My fears, anger, exhaustion, and tiny moments of joy all ended up on the canvas. There were days when colors saved me — when a brushstroke reminded me that I still have something to give, something that is entirely mine.
December, for me, is not the celebration of a perfect year. It’s the acceptance of a human one. A year where I fell, got back up, questioned everything, and still kept going. There may not have been shining moments or effortless joy — but there was resilience. And that matters.
The light that appears in me at the end of the year isn’t bright or loud. It’s small, quiet, and stubborn. But it’s enough. Enough to give me hope. Enough to tell me that if I’ve made it this far, I can keep going.
I’m stepping into the next year not with big resolutions, but with one simple truth:
If I got this far, I won’t stop now. Even if it’s slow. Even if it’s hard. I’m moving forward.
And maybe that’s the only thing that truly counts.
