Goodbye, 2025.
At the relaunch of Flexi Decor, Maseru Mall
First, I owe you an explanation…
I have been to all corners and ends of the media space as we know it. I have tried to fit into what’s commonplace, what comes relatively easy. Without even noticing it, one day turned into weeks and those became many months of not showing up for the one thing that makes me feel the most human. While it was rewarding to push myself beyond what comes naturally to me, I came to a realization that, irrespective of context, the only way that I feel my most comfortable showing up online is through my writing. Packaging words and images together to paint you a picture, nothing feels more blissful, more human, more real. So, dear reader, I am sorry for over one year of going radio silent on you. But a lot has been happening so, get comfortable and let’s talk.
My Seasons Changed
I finally took the hard step and moved out of my sister’s home. A place that had been my home for over 12 years. This move has been a major transition in my life that I’m only still slowly getting used to. Mentally, it has been close to impossible to get used to living alone. My food goes bad flowers wither from lack of care. I feel like the growth that I was so desperate to feel now haunts me. But not all hope is lost, for the woman I’m slowly becoming is one whose kindness and compassion are becoming ever so potent. My body’s changing too. The sparkly things in my mouth have changed the shape of my face. My body’s curvier, more feminine, my diet refined. I am obsessed with the colour of my skin. I used to have what a stranger would call an expensive taste. I am now a reformed lover of the finer things in life. These changes are very subtle, not at all rushed, just the way nature was designed. And I like it.
I lost my grandmother, at the age of 97. I’m not blind to how lucky we’ve been to have had her for so many years but that’s just it, she became quite simply, a home. She became what’s familiar when the world left us feeling unrecognizable to ourselves. When she left, life felt lonely, almost incomplete. And so I honored this loss with shaving my head, in my own way. To honour a life lived gracefully. A life that experienced losses in the most tragic of ways and yet stayed strong for everyone who depended on it. I miss her dearly.
2025 broke me:
The people I loved the most became my lessons, myself included. I laughed harder to hide the sound of my heart breaking. I said the things that I was desperate to hear. I hid in the shadows of my own guilt, of my own disappointment in myself. I did everything to make me feel something, anything. I’ve walked out of 2025 with 10x scrutiny. A heart that I used to wear on my sleeve now hangs somewhere between the pain of a silence that cut deeper that a blade and the frail hug of recovery. And perhaps, for now, that s okay. This is the place where I exist. Because, if we’re being truthful, when has life ever been perfect?
A Love Letter to my Friends:
Thank you for having been the champion of my year. For being my unpaid therapists. For healing a heart that you hadn’t broken. 2025 broke me into a hundred pieces and you were there to put me back together. You carry in each one of you, proof of my strength that you remind me of in my darkest hour. I hope that I’m a safe place for you when you feel like you don’t belong. Thank you for carrying me without judgement. I love you all.
Love, M.
And to you, my Dear Reader,
May this new year be the year of making good memories that last. May it inspire you to take that trip you’ve been dreaming of, to publish that podcast episode that feels imperfect. May the love that you give be given back, and may that familiar loop of good breaks find you. If these don’t come to pass, may you find the courage each day to make your time on Earth and others’ beautiful and memorable. Here’s to the new year!
