This past year wasn’t exactly sprinkled with fairy dust or wrapped in a giant red bow. It was more like one of those surprise grab bags where you reach in hoping for chocolate and instead pull out hospital bracelets, paperwork piles, and family plot twists that even Netflix would reject for being “too much.” Work crises, health scares, family upheavals. Check, check, and check. Truly a triple-threat performance of stress.

But here’s the thing. I got through it. Not because I white-knuckled it or manifested calm under a full moon (though, hey, I tried). I got through because I was held by support, by community, by a warm and gloriously non-toxic circle at home and at work. That was the universe handing me a life raft and whispering, “Float, my friend. Float.”

And float I did. In a bath. An actual bath of steadiness, encouragement, and oxygen that didn’t feel rationed. Trust me, not everyone has that. I know this. I’ve lived the opposite. I sorrowfully have to the detriment of my health.  So while I could list the awards, the accolades, the professional highs, the shiny moments of this past year (and yes, they existed), the real win was simply buoyancy. The ability to heal, to help my family heal, because the environment around me wasn’t draining the very energy I needed to survive.

Non-toxicity shouldn’t feel like a luxury. It shouldn’t be something we whisper “thank you” for like we just found extra fries at the bottom of the bag. But here we are. Grateful for the absence of poison. Grateful for the presence of humanity.

And that, for me, was the quiet triumph of the year. Discovering that even when life cracked open, I was surrounded by people who helped me stitch it back together. No drama, no venom, no chaos. Just support. Just care. Just warmth.

Sometimes the most positive thing isn’t what sparkles. It’s what doesn’t corrode.

And for that, I am profoundly thankful.