Over a million people inevitably hold excitement for the Christmassy festive — except me. It's not that I'm not excited; I just don't know how to set my expectations for Christmas. Being born and raised in a Christian, conservative family — and surrounded by the same — has cuffed me down. My family endlessly preserves traditions every year, especially the Mandokhata part, where you "fortunately" share your plans for the next year or evaluate the current one. Honestly, sometimes I want to puke. Period. Mom always says she looks forward to Mandokhata because she gets to hear everyone's stories and maybe offer support — since we hardly tell her everything, except my sister. But for me, it feels meaningless now. I don't even know what to say or convey for 2025. Maybe I've realized it never comes with the same shoes for everyone — the result of this so-called 'family gathering.'

Regardless, knowing I'll be unemployed starting January 2026 scares me a lot, especially considering my country's economic condition. Some people say, "Just take the risk — face it and keep moving forward." They say what's best for me will come eventually. It reassures me temporarily, but the worst part is letting my brain spiral into abstract thoughts.

Anyway, I met my dear friend from Brunei this November. For context, he actively advocates for minority issues, especially LGBTQ+, from human rights to legal reforms. Interestingly, when we caught up, he shared his five-year roadmap plan, which sparked my admiration. How does he stay so motivated to keep moving forward? How can he design a time-bound plan to push his luck? It's not a bad comparison — I'd call it curiosity about human survival at all costs. But me? Man, I don't even know what I should do. Maybe because I keep letting too many opportunities run through my head until I can't decide what to focus on. Anyway, he mentioned something interesting: "Sympathy doesn't come together with empathy." That's so true! But I've realized we can't force our surroundings — even close peers — to empathize with us, especially queer people. Ironically, I think my empathy toward them has always been there because I was born and raised that way. It's just that I realized, unexpectedly, that I am different and unique.

This year marks an important milestone for me too. Coming out to my siblings was something I didn't plan, to be honest. But seeing their acceptance of my gayness felt unexpectedly okay — grateful even. Of course, I don't want to burden them with my endless thoughts and insecurities about being a lesbian.

Overall, I think 2025 gave me a variety of colors. I hope I can improve myself, one step at a time. Small things matter — a lot. Here's my next broad plan:

• Be proud of being a lesbian. There's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't erase your kindness just because the world doesn't treat you better.
• Be smart when people are curious about your sexual orientation. You know you're a lesbian, but you don't owe them an explanation or answers just to meet their expectations.
• Practice self-control and regulation. Identify the noise during critical moments — especially as 2025 ends and 2026 begins — when you might not know what to do emotionally and financially.