happy? new year?
four takeaways for 2025
3…2…1… new year, new me! but same old substack. i hope everyone has had an incredible start to their 2025. i’m proud of all of you and can’t wait to see what you make of this year. i hope you can take something away from this. and let me know if you do :) love you all!
happy 2025! happy is a relative term though because i didn’t think 2024 would test me SO completely. in the middle of a boston apartment in the peak of summer, i found myself crying over questions i didn’t even know how to ask, let alone answer. but there were almost moments of pure, unfilitered joy that made me believe there’s something magical about this world or the warmth of people who stepped in right when i needed them. it’s really really easy to remember the bad but it’s also really really easy to forget all of the good that was intertwined through it.
this year wasn’t polished, it was pretty gritty. but i’m learning that even in the worst moments, there’s a reason to wake up and leave my dorm and buy a $7 matcha as a reward. and maybe that reason is as simple as wanting to be a more loving person in a world that can feel so cold. as i’m sitting here in december, writing this from india, it’s hitting me that i really don’t have everything figured out—honestly pretty far from it. i tried for 2 weeks to set resolutions for 2025 and check off impressive milestones in 2024 and found myself struggling over and over and over again. and it kind of allowed me to be real with the fact that sometimes you can go months (or in this case a whole year) stumbling around in your own head before something can finally click— even if it doesn’t click all the way. i’m hoping by writing this and sharing this, more people will feel less alone in the chaos. because there are many things a list of new years resolutions can’t say.
when i look back at the year, i realize i spent so much time trying to figure out whether i was “okay.” 2024 showed me how quickly your emotional lanscape can actually change. you can feel deeply broken one moment and then strangely hopeful the next. the fact that i could hold both a plethora of pain and a plethora of joy in my heart simultaneously baffled me at first. because i genuinely thought i needed to pick a side.
i’ve come to realize that being human means existing in that overlap— where heartbreak and laughter can coexist in the same day, sometimes even in the same hour. and while it’s jarring (or i’m delusional and this is common sense), there’s a strange comfort in knowing that nothing stays forever. tears come and go. smiles come and go. and it creates a life that’s so much more textured than we could ever possibly imagine.
lesson 1: i’m giving myself permission to feel it all without needing to fix or label my emotions. sometimes the best i can do is acknowledge that i’m both vulnerable and strong because there’s something real and honest about letting yourself be contradictory. there’s space for both truths in one day, one hour, or even one breath.
for years, i believed that i needed to be tough to survive, because i saw everyone around me. my mom, my dad, my grandparents, my friends. they constantly put up a wall. i thought that being immune to any sort of love was the key to never being hurt again. i think those walls fell completely this year and i realized something fairly profound: my heart—my capacity to love—is actually what makes me, me. when i let myself love wholeheartedly, even when i’m terrified of losing, i probably feel more alive than ever. that doesn’t mean its painless, in fact sometimes its the most painful thing you can feal. but the beauty of love is that it isn’t about guarantees. it’s about choosing to show up, give you heart, and trust that the act of caring itself has inherent value. “something isn’t beautiful because it lasts” - vision, age of ultron1
i’m sure everyone was taught in kindergarten that you need to “be nice.” i used to see “being nice” as too simple of a goal, like it wasn’t ambitious enough. but as 2024 wore on, i realized how much kindness can change not just your own world, but everyone else’s too. i noticed how a small act of compassion, whether i was giving or receiving it could turn an impossible morning into a slightly more bearable one. striving to be kind isn’t a weakness, it might be one of the bravest things i can do, given how harsh things can get.
lesson 2: choosing love when your heart feels bruised is an act of defiance. it tells the world that no amount of hurt can stop you from caring and there’s strength in that vulnerability. letting myself be soft and kind isn’t naive, it’s powerful.
letting go of this year was like jumping off the edge of a cliff and praying i’d sprout wings on the way down. i really really didn’t want 2024 to end. because there were so many loose ends to be tied. i felt like my life had been split into two— before 2024 and after 2024. at first i thought letting go meant i was giving up, it’s admitting the story that you’d been writing and curating and fantasizing about in your head isn’t the one you’re living right now and that’s totally okay. the universe has a plan for all of us and its reminding me that empty spaces can be filled with new hope, new love, new possibilities.
it’s not about dismissing the past or acting like it never mattered. it’s about acknowledging that people change and i’ve changed. the fear of loss and the fear of moving on can make us hold on too tightly but letting go creates room for a future that might actually surprise us in the best way possible.
lesson 3: sometimes the thing i’m gripping with all my might is exactly what’s keeping me from being better. letting go opens the door for new beginnings and even though it hurts, it’s better than staying stuck at the restaurant. still sitting in a corner i haunt.2
i had more than a few existential crises this year, staring at the body dysmorphia dorm room mirror and wondering, “what the hell am i even doing?” if i’m honest, 2024 felt like a constant unraveling— like with each day, i was losing the person i used to be. but oddly enough, it was in that unraveling i discovered that i can still laugh, dance, sing, and be the funniest version of myself on the days when i felt like the world was ending. i reconnected with old hobbies, tried new ones, and let my curiosity guide me instead of my fear. and in the process, i started recognizing glimpses of who i’m becoming, rather than mourning who i used to be.
i’m learning slowly that we don’t just “find” ourselves once and call it a day. we find ourselves over and over and over and ovver and over again. each detour is a catalyst for rediscovery. and sometimes, it’s the hardest part of the journey that brings you face-to-face with who you are, stripped of expectations and labels that you picked up along the way.
lesson 4: who i am right now is not who i will be tomorrow or the day after that. who i am is constantly evolving. and instead of fearing that loss of the old me, i can embrace the fact that every change is an invitation to rediscover my strength.
looking ahead to 2025, i really want to transform the endless “what ifs” into tangible steps forward. there were days in 2024 when my anxiety about the future was almost paralyzing. but i’ve learned that no matter how many times i rehearse every single scenario in my head, i can’t guard myself against every single outcome. life happens, whether you’re ready or not.
this coming year, i really want to take more risks. i want to love even harder and i want to trust even more fully again. and if things do crumble, i know now that i’m capable of rebuilding. every day i chose to get out of bed this year was proof that i can do hard things.
2024 was the first year i could say that it wasn’t a montage of easy wins. it left me feeling horrible. but it taught me that the things that we think are weaknesses can become our biggest strengths if we let them. because in the middle of all the bad there was so much good:
running around new york in the middle of the night, “let’s skip all of our classes and go to cava” texts, traveling alone because i can, buying 2 things from teado in one day also because i can, losing track of how many epipens were injected into me, walking through a hailstorm to get to brandy melville, learning how to play the senegalese drums, spending a summer in boston, eating chipotle every time acting like its my first time eating it, breaking out the dj equipment in stud 5 quiet, moving my default study spot from stud 5 quiet to stud 5 loud, having the best nights out, blind taste testing diet coke, begging and pleading your hometown best friend to come visit you in boston, doing countless tiktok dances, and countless random canes runs, laughing uncontrollably until 5am, dancing in the rain, making new friends, listening to new songs, all the little things. so to me, 2024 was perfect.
i carry forward the knowledge that it’s okay. not to have everything figured out. it’s okay to let yourself break, to cry, to question every choice you make, it’s okay to trust again, to hope, to give your all to the people you care about. it’s okay to strive to be “the nice person,” the one who sees the values in everyone’s story.
the warmth of your heart is worth protecting, but it’s also worth sharing. in the wise words of someone important to me, “you live and you learn but don’t ever blame yourself for loving.”
so to anyone reading this and thinking your own 2024 was less than perfect, well welcome! the truth is, it’s normal to have a year that’s a beautiful, messy contradiction. you don’t have to have it all figured out on jan 1st. it might take you until december— maybe even in a different country— before something clicks. and that’s okay. i hope you find solace in the truth that you’re allowed to feel everything— the heartbreak, the rage, the happiness, the relief. and you’re allowed to be proud of just making it through the day.
because you don’t have to wait for your life to be perfect to start living. and that’s strength. cheers to 2025!
i’m sorry i had to have a marvel quote in here
compulsory taylor swift reference
ill live by your notes as well :) these surprisingly align with the 6 things i wrote for myself turning 20
body dysmorphia mirror mentioned!! im going to miss that mirror