Kyleigh Leist
Marketing Director
If I’m being honest, 2024 has been one of the hardest years of my life. It’s tested me in ways I never imagined. Mentally, I’ve been drained, fighting battles I never thought I’d face. There were days when I struggled to stay alive, nights when the weight of everything felt unbearable, and moments when I questioned if I could keep going.
This year has been marked by loss—of friendships, of security, of parts of myself I didn’t think I’d ever have to give up. I’ve faced trauma and challenges that shook me to my core, leaving me feeling more alone than I ever have before. It’s a strange kind of isolation, the kind where even when you’re surrounded by people, you feel invisible.
2024 has seen the most broken version of me, a version I barely recognize when I look in the mirror. And yet, here I am, still standing—or maybe more accurately, still crawling through the rubble of this year, trying to make sense of it all.
But even in this darkness, a flicker of light remains.
A Glimmer of Hope for 2025
2024 may have left me shattered, but it hasn’t destroyed my ability to hope. Somehow, I’ve held on to the belief that better days are ahead. Maybe it’s naïve, but I can’t help but feel that 2025 holds the promise of something more. It can’t get much worse than this, right?
I’m choosing to see 2025 as a blank canvas, an opportunity to rebuild. I don’t know what it will look like, and I’m not expecting perfection or miracles. But I do know that I want to give myself the chance to heal. To rebuild the friendships I’ve lost—or to find new ones that nourish me in ways I deserve. To work through the trauma I’ve endured and come out stronger, even if the process is messy and slow.
2025 is a chance for me to rediscover myself, to find the version of me that I thought was lost forever. Maybe it’s a chance to create a new version, one that’s softer and stronger at the same time, more resilient but still open to the world.
Embracing the Unknown
The truth is, I don’t know what 2025 will bring. None of us do. But for the first time in a long time, I feel a small but significant pull toward hope.
I’m learning that it’s okay to feel broken, to grieve the parts of myself I’ve lost. It’s okay to sit with the pain and acknowledge it. But it’s also okay to believe in the possibility of better days.
As 2024 comes to a close, I’m not magically healed or free from the struggles that weighed me down this year. But I am ready to take small steps forward. I’m ready to open my heart to the idea that 2025 might bring new opportunities, new connections, and a renewed sense of purpose.
And if you’ve had a hard year too, I hope you know you’re not alone. I hope you’ll join me in holding on to even the tiniest sliver of hope, no matter how small it feels. Because sometimes, that’s all we need to keep going.
Here’s to 2025—a year of rebuilding, rediscovering, and maybe even finding joy again.
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