I end this year the way I lived it—moving.
Scarred knuckles, quiet wins, loud lessons.
I learned that silence can teach,
that roads don’t apologize for being long,
and that becoming costs more than dreaming.
Some days bent me,
some nights sharpened me.
I lost people, found purpose,
and met versions of myself I had to outgrow.
I didn’t arrive,
I advanced.
Still carving, still learning, still in motion
Here’s to the miles behind me,
the fire ahead,
and the legend I’m becoming.
One step, one word, one year at a time.