My name is Iabel, and for the past five years I've learned to live with dates that for many mean noise, company, and toasts, but for me have been silent. I've spent New Year's and my birthdays alone, without midnight hugs or shared candles. At first, it hurt more than I could name. It wasn't just the absence of people; it was the feeling of being left out of a ritual that the world seems to celebrate together, while I observed from my own refuge.

Over time, I understood that loneliness doesn't always come as punishment. Sometimes it comes as a teacher. It forced me to look at myself directly, to listen to my thoughts without distractions, to discover who I was when I didn't have to be anything to anyone. I learned to prepare my own special dinner, to write wishes on paper even if no one read them, to blow out imaginary candles with the same intention. Not to pretend that everything was alright, but to honor myself.

I've gotten through these years by giving myself self-love in small but constant ways. Taking care of my heart when no one else did. Celebrating my achievements in silence. Comforting myself on gray days. I learned that being alone doesn't mean being empty. It means having space. Space to grow, to heal, to patiently rebuild myself.

Today I know that solitude isn't bad. It's uncomfortable, yes. Sometimes it weighs me down. But it also strengthens me. It taught me not to settle, not to seek company out of fear, to understand that I deserve connections that add to my life, not those that hastily fill empty voids. It taught me to wait without despairing.

And yet, there's a gentle longing that lives within me. The desire to share time with a special person. Not out of need, but out of choice. Someone to laugh with on simple occasions, with whom to build new rituals, with whom to say "I'm here" without losing myself. Someone who comes into my life not to save me, but to walk beside me.

It doesn't hurt that I was alone. I'm proud that I sustained myself. And if I ever share a birthday or a New Year with someone, it will be from a version of myself that knows how to be alone, but also knows how to love.

Because I learned to choose myself first. And that changes everything.