What Doesn't Kill You Makes You See 25

I.

It is December 2025. I begin writing this in a state of brokenness.

My perfume, red-bottled and scenting of roses and Oud, fell to the floor and broke. I imagine this is what heartbreak feels like, an unceremonious dropping to the point of irredeemable breakage. I have become philosophical about the broken pieces of glass on the floor. I am also looking at it from a purely economic standpoint. Who gave a perfume I saved so hard to buy the audacity to break? Who?

I soak up the scent from the floor and walk past the shattered glass. My Bolt is waiting outside. I am going house hunting, which, dear people of God, is the sure recipe for madness. I enter the car and I hear a tear. The jeans I was wearing just ripped. I wish this was fiction. Brethren, I wore it like that and went to meet the house agent waiting for me because I was done with life and its treacherous surprises or maybe it's because I am Gen Z and a small rip on my ass should not hurt anyone. Or maybe I was just done.

II.

There was a breaking, tearing and ripping apart that coloured my 2025, and by God I hope it never repeats itself again. I was proof that you can function and not die, even though a million things are trying to kill you. I woke up each day and I brought all of myself with me, not in a good way. I woke every day and the Roseline you encountered, however piecemeal, inadequate, small, happy, kind, or rude, was all of her. I was operating like a person who had no base, no reserve. I sometimes wished to be swept away, and this is so crazy because in 2024, a couple I really respect prayed for me and their exact prayer was, "Roseline, you will never be swept away." They must have preempted that something was going to attempt to ruthlessly sweep me away, and they sought to avert it. The people who have full context will understand.

III.

2025 was the year I understood what the Bible meant by groanings that cannot be uttered. There was so much going on, too much even. I wanted to do a 2025 video dump and ninety percent were videos of me weeping grown woman tears. I see those videos and I look at my Instagram and I laugh. My bio reads: Mantra, Romanticize your life. I am fantastic at highlighting the little things, of mining goodness from the cracks of tragedy, of making goodness, laughter, beauty and aesthetics the centre piece. I am a master at carrying on and dragging joy and curating the beautiful percentages of my life into admirable, happy and aspirational pieces.

I told one of my closest friends that I feel like a mascot sometimes, like a fraud, that I like to share but it's unfair to mostly share palatable things. She said I do not owe people on the internet the interiorities of my life or the gory realities of it. That I can share as much or as little as I bloody want. I agree.

Truth is, I don't pretend to find joy in the mundane. Truly, the little things bring me joy and I can be so squeaky and cheesy and warm, but I can admit that on some days I lose myself trying to not look like what I am going through. On some days I am anxious about the smell of my troubles, I panic that someone can sniff it on me. I am pretending not to be falling apart in my own house and in my workplace. I fake a smile. I finish that document, I schedule that meeting, I say yes to things even when I would rather not be existing. I pretend to be easygoing in moments when I don't want to go anywhere and I want to simply say my mind. I do not know how to ask for help or demand for things, so I simply swallow my discomfort.

IV.

I am spiralling, but what I am trying to say is that I love life. I really love life. I don't know that I love all of my life at this moment but I know I want to be alive. I am not suicidal in any potent way. I just had a year where I was tired of being. I wanted to be human because it was animalistic and damn right banal, the mental and physical load I had to carry and dispel. I just had a year where I had to fight to be grateful. There were big wins, you know. I didn't fail the bar. I am a whole lawyer now. I became a published author. My chapbook, A Body In Spice sold out almost immediately. But the challenges, my God. One day, when there is complete victory, I will write about it.

V.

2025 also taught me not to blame people who offer advice based on what they know and the context they understand. I had someone tell me I was always focusing on my losses and the bad instead of celebrating my current wins. I told them they had a point and I still believe they do, but thinking deeply about it, nobody who knew about my challenges, anxieties, concerns and trauma would frame it as focusing on my losses, Nobody! So until people actually run a mile in your shoes, advice will flow like water. Take what you can, do not internalise the rest.

VI.

In 2026, I want deeply rooted victories, not fleeting accomplishments. I am also trying, in this new quarter, to take responsibility for my own joy and happiness. My 25th birthday taught me that. I don't know whether it is the societal rave surrounding 25 and how it means you are a whole adult now, or that for the first time in a long time I thought it was okay to have some expectation from people you are getting to know, that kind of failed but…

See, I feel like this whole 25 deconstruction is so personal and most of it has already happened in my journal and may happen in another blog post. But I had a lovely time with my friends, and they were people who actually went out of their way to remind me of the love and light that I am, to show with words and gifts what it feels like to be treasured and acknowledged. You see, if they wanted to, they would. That is another mantra I live by. Nobody who cares enough will be flimsy or dismissive about a day that matters to you. Please look for love in the arms of people whose love is sure. Please. And do not ever exaggerate your place in people's lives. I am begging you, because I can tell you firsthand that it is a recipe for heartbreak. I feel wise and seasoned now, as the 25-year-old that I so gloriously am. I feel like I know so much about life at this age, but I am also aware that I know very little, there is still so much to learn, so many mistakes to make.

My biggest advice for anyone turning 25 is this: please know that it is literally just another glorious year, but also it is very special. Make of that day what you want. Don't leave it in anybody's hands. You are responsible for your own joy. Save and spoil yourself. Sleep in and watch a movie if that is what you want. Just do something that makes you happy.

VII.

Finally, 2025 really taught me that even when I come undone, I cannot be fully done. It taught me that I don't know how to give up. Done is a word that will call me a weakling and a liar and win. I carry on, I live, I do things. My heart and brain is full of ingenious ideas. I am a very blessed, very gifted individual. Something about my destiny, about my walk here on earth, is too precious to be cut short.

My relationship with God has been rocky, there are many things I do not understand, many unanswered questions, many valid fights between faith and logic, many unfulfilled promises, divine heartaches and church hurt. I am tired of 'suddenly,' of the kind of eleventh-hour blessings and miracles that came right at the brink of my catastrophe. So I say, God, if you already have the solutions I seek, why are you allowing my agony? I have told God that there are less debilitating ways to teach me how to trust him. You don't have to bring little Miss Independent to her knees to get her to know that she should turn to you. In all of this, I still believe. It is nonsensical that I still believe, but I do. Much of my help has come from God. Psalm 121 is a scripture that has now become an anchor. God has sent me people, created opportunities for me, delivered me from sticky situations, and saved me from death. I believe so much in the spiritual. Nobody can convince me that there is no God. I prefer to keep wrestling with the faith, than to have no faith all. 

VIII.

I should stop here now. Shout out to my friends, all of you. God sent you people to me. It is not ordinary to have people who feel my ache, even before my mouth can express it, even before my body can articulate it. You know yourselves and if you are reading this, thank you for being balm. I am forever moved that you love me. That love has carried me into 2026.

Ps: all typos belong to my alter ego. Can never be me!