This year tested me in ways I never could not have envisioned even in my worst nightmare. There were moments when the ground actually felt like it was disappearing. I went quiet, not because I needed distance, but because I didn’t have words. And women showed up. They sat with me until I could breathe again. They booked flights, crossed cities, checked in when I didn’t reply, listened without judgment, stayed without keeping score. One of my greatest fears was losing love. What I found instead was that I’d never known it. Not the kind that is weaponized, performed, or passed from one victim to the next. The kind that arrives unasked, answers the phone at 2am, holds your child, your hand, or both. This is the love that lasts. Quiet, strong, chosen. Not conditional. Not withheld. Not fragile. It’s women holding each other together while building and rebuilding their lives in real time. This year, the women around me carried me. And because of them, I know exactly what it means to be lifted. Eternally grateful for you women. ❤️