It's that time of year when we return where it all began. The hustle and grind of the past twelve months has built to a fever pitch, and whatever we’ve achieved — or failed to — clings to us like a weight on our shoulders as we step onto the doorsteps of home.

It’s a time of reunions, of seeing faces that knew us before careers, titles, and responsibilities etched lines into our brows. Eyes linger a moment too long, quietly assessing:

“Have they changed?”

“Have they succeeded?”

“How much weight have they gained — or lost?”

And then come the words — warm, congratulatory, or otherwise. “You look amazing!” they’ll gush, or worse, the silence of unspoken judgment.

Later, with old friends, the comparisons begin. It’s subtle, unspoken, but there. This year, as I stood in front of my best friend’s meticulously polished Porsche SUV, a gift to his wife, the voice in my head wasn’t congratulating him. It was whispering something else: envy.

#HomefortheHolidays