Dear Unsealers

Meet Roger! Roger lost his mother when he was 23 years old. Ever since, he has struggled with grief, anxiety and depression. He misses his mother who was a source of love and comfort in his life. One of his favorite memories of his mom is seeing her joy when she watched him perform in his first band concert in high school.

While Roger has found healing in writing, giving back to others and expressing himself through photography, there are still days that he struggles.

Write to Roger about your experience with loss, your favorite memories with your loved one and what has helped bring peace to your life and your grief. You can respond to this thread or post your own letter in this group or the group Remembering those we lost and tag Roger @oneturbobenz

Share your truth and change the world.

@abbiegwrites @alexandraparry @dsenlightenededits @falkytvgmail-com @gabriellebeth @lostone89 @delanomassey @jthomasdryandbarren-com @rkartikalestari @ashley_topham @brilee258 @braveheart @kayjahlorde @okiwa002 @amazz94 @jcbcle77 @corriefergusonbooks @jim-c @zaysmith1

All the best,

Dear Sean,

Our friendship began the night we met. It was August 12, 2018 in downtown Cleveland. My friends and I ended up at a table at FWD nightclub with you and your friends. Thanks to your charm, and that handsome face, we immediately clicked.

In a short time, I realized there was so much more to you than your good looks and your sweet personality.

Over the next year, I got to know you pretty well. I opened up to you about my past. You were supportive and understanding. I shared with you the challenges I faced at the time, and you gave me strength, encouragement, and confidence. You also took me for sushi, became my pen pal (exchanging a billion texts a day), and helped me set the foundation for my business. Sometimes, I’d even get you to stop by my apartment just to give me a hug.

As our friendship evolved, you’d often share your wisdom and perspective with me.

Vividly, I remember you once telling me a lesson you learned while serving in the military. You told me you were pushed so much physically in the military that you realized that the moment you feel like giving up – the moment you feel like you have nothing left in the tank – you always have a bit more fight left. You can always go more.

I left Cleveland in June of 2019. You came over and said goodbye to me. You told me we’d see each other again in Miami or when I returned to Cleveland. Little did I know that would be the last time I’d ever see you.

About two months later, you texted me, “I have a miracle.”

You proceeded to tell me, in text, about how a week earlier you had a seizure while home with your daughters. Your daughters called for help and got you to the hospital, where they found a tumor in your brain. You sent me videos and an actual picture of the tumor inside your brain. It was too much for me to absorb over text, and I asked you to call me, which you did.

At that point, you still didn’t know if it was cancer, but you told me, “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I will be OK.”

When you officially told me it was cancer, I don’t think my mind could fully process the reality of the situation. In fact, I still don’t think I have fully processed it. As time passed, I checked in on you here and there, and we chatted about life and other things.

When I first launched The Unsealed, you read nearly every letter, and signed up as one of my very first members.

After I thanked you for signing up, you said, “Your stories are helping people, Lauren. Your strength/story is touching.”

You made me believe that this lofty dream I was pursuing was not only possible but worthwhile.

While we didn’t talk much about your cancer diagnosis, and you certainly never told me your prognosis, you did tell me your circumstance taught you that no matter what, you always have to look at life from a positive perspective. When I told you I felt like I hit a wall with my business, you told me to be thankful I am here to hit that wall, reminding me that each day is both a blessing and an opportunity.

I used to tease you that you were a feminist, but you truly were, believing that women, including me, could be or do anything they so choose. I remember you even spent time on a weekend, helping teach young girls how to code.

Your daughters were your world, and you never wanted to miss a volleyball game or dinner time. If I called you while you were watching a movie with one of your daughters, you wouldn’t answer. Your time with your children was precious to you – and that was true from the moment I met you.

During your battle with cancer, you began to ride your bike – a lot. You decided to join the Great Cycle Challenge, aiming to ride your bike 200 miles in a month to raise money, not for yourself but for children battling cancer. You were among the top fundraisers in the country.

In the most challenging moment in your life, you devoted your time and energy to helping others that were suffering.

Sean, that is who you were. That is who all your friends and family know, love, and cherish.

A little less than a year ago, I asked you how you were, and you told me you were OK and that you were going to try some experimental treatments. Without going into detail, I knew what that meant. I didn’t hear from you much after that, and I feel sad that I didn’t reach out as I should have. I think, subconsciously, a part of me didn’t want to face the reality of losing yet another young person close to me. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been these last few months. I promise, it wasn’t because I didn’t care.

A few weeks ago, I had a funny story I wanted to tell you – a mystery that I finally solved. When I texted you on your phone and Instagram and didn’t get a response, I knew it wasn’t good. Ultimately, your best friend and your mom filled me in. I am thankful I texted when I did, as I was able to send you cards and tell you how much you meant to me. Your mom even said that when you saw the card was from me, you had a huge smile across your face.

I am absolutely heartbroken right now. You were one of the good guys and didn’t deserve a battle with brain cancer. With that said, I want you to know that the man beyond the charm and the handsome face has left an indelible mark on my heart.

Because of you, I will keep fighting when I feel there is nothing left in the tank. I will keep pushing to build The Unsealed, motivated by the fact that I know it meant something to you and can and will help many other people. And I will always wake up every day with gratitude and a positive attitude.

While I am mourning the loss of your life, I will continue to celebrate you through how I live mine.

I miss you already. Thank you for genuinely caring about me. You will forever inspire me.

With love and lots of hugs,
Lauren

P.S. I heart you.

support brain cancer research disease by donating to:
https://virtualtrials.org/strother.cfm or http://www.childrenscancer.org/seanstrother

—
@delanomassey @shelleybrill @kayjahlorde @mehraslam @amazz94 @abbiegwrites @bigstudbundy @lostone89 @willardogan @wilparker1 @andbrill @zaysmith1 @gabriellebeth @ashley_topham @asyk @hue-jackson @dsenlightenededits @jerricaconley @jsimon @johncarubbagmail-com @qcurtis @redskinsjjv84 @okiwa002 @vbrooks884 @oneturbobenz @writingsfromthegarden @jcbcle77 @yourbabydaddy @zuckerman @corriefergusonbooks

Dear @telina27 and @amazz94,

I want to officially introduce you two as pen pals! Both of you are such kind people with creative minds. Telina, Alex is artists. Alex, Telina is a writer. You both have had loss in your life but also have experienced a lot of love from your families.

I thought I would start you off with an icebreaker question. You guys also don’t have to reply to this thread. You can start your own.

But the icebreaker is, what is the best compliment you’ve ever received. I have two. In high school, I didn’t get into honors English. My guidance counselor advocated for me.

He said, “If you give her a challenge, she won’t only meet it, she will far exceed it.”

I got into honors English that year and also got an A in the class. I wanted to prove my guidance counselor right.

In my 20’s I also had a friend tell me, “When I need to make a strong decision I think of you.”

I didn’t know she perceived me that way. I was so touched.

Anyways, feel free to start a new letter in any of the groups/topics and start writing to each other.

Be kind. Be supportive. Be honest and have fun! Let me know if you have any questions.

xo

To my younger self,

Several years ago, mom and dad moved out of our childhood home and mom sent me a box filled with items from our room that she didn’t know if I wanted to keep or throw away.

As I looked through this box, I found random items like a Mia Hamm Barbie in a package that I never opened and drawings from third or fourth grade. As I dug a little deeper, I also found a letter written to my future self. It was written by you – my younger self – a 17-year-old high school senior.

You’ll be happy to know that you got off the waitlist and into your top-choice school, Columbia University. While you will question whether or not you are smart enough to go there, college won’t be very difficult for you. Academics will almost come secondary to falling in love, getting your heart broken, making lifelong friendships, and starting your career.

After college, it will take a little bit of time, but you will make it on air. You will become a sportscaster. In some ways, the dream will be everything you ever imagined and more, and in other ways, you will be left hurt, frustrated and disappointed.

I’m sorry to tell you that so far, you didn’t get your own show, and you don’t have your own network.

But that’s OK.

What I love about you and what I love about me is that we follow our heart, and we stay true to our morals. We stand up for ourselves and others even when there is a heavy price to pay.

These qualities will lead you to tell the world in an open letter about what happened at that house party in Nyack when you were 16. I know you thought you’d be able to bury that, to push it away and forget what those boys did to you forever. However, it just won’t play out that way.

Don’t worry. You’re OK. You are more than OK. Your letter, which was addressed to sexual assault survivors, will help you transform all your pain into purpose.

Sharing your truth will feel so empowering, you will decide to lend your ability to write and tell a story to other people’s voices. You will start a business you can’t yet even visualize. It will be called The Unsealed, and you will ghostwrite open letters that will inspire strength and encourage equality.

While most of the letters won’t be about you, you will write the letters based on your interpretation of each person’s story. And thus, within each letter written, there will be a piece of you and a part of your heart. These letters will reflect the compassion you feel for others and the impact you want to make on the world.

The response to your work will be incredible.

Your very first letter, which was about grief, will save someone’s life. A man, who lost his mother, will reach out to you and tell you that he read the letter with a gun in his hand. By the time he finishes the letter, he will have a tear dripping down his face. That will be the moment he decides not to take his own life.

And that’s not all.

A former foster child will tell you that you made her feel seen. A father who will lose his son to cancer will thank you for caring about his child’s legacy. A teenage rape survivor will tell you that you are the reason she shared her story, and you are the reason she feels hope for her future. Countless people will be grateful because you listened to them, helped them express themselves, and amplified their voices.

Your work will give you so much happiness, purpose, and connection. The passion you feel burning through your veins will help combat the nerves that come with the uncertainties of starting and running a business.

It’s not your own show, and it’s not your own network. But this will be right for you.

Once again, you will be confident that you are good enough, but you will still want to be the best. Your dreams will once again be big, and your plan will be very specific:

Build an enormous badass company that will change the whole damn world!

You will have your moments where you wonder, “Is this possible?”

“Can I take this to the next level?”

“Will I continue to grow?”

Most of the time, you will be excited, but there will be moments that you feel scared. And in those moments, you will think of the letter your 17-year-old self wrote to your future self.

See, when I think about you and your struggle and how the cards ultimately unfolded – I know precisely the advice I want to tell you.

I want you to relax. You have wonderful friends, the best parents and you are young and curious. Stop missing out on the joy of the present moment because you’re consumed with the unknowns of your future.

Don’t worry. Everything always turns out just fine.

All you have to do is continue to follow your heart and work hard. If that doesn’t take you where you plan to go, I promise it will lead you somewhere better.

I hope this helps.

And thank you again for writing to me. The advice that I realized I wanted to give to you ended up being the exact wisdom I needed to remind myself.

We got this! Let’s go!

@kayjahlorde @oneturbobenz @amazz94 @theunsealed

It’s been almost six years since I lost my ex-boyfriend, Brian. He loved me with all his heart. And even though I broke his heart, he never stopped caring about me, supporting me, or cheering on my success. When he was alive, I spent years keeping him an arm’s distance away. At the time, I just didn’t want the same relationship that he wanted. But when he died, I almost fell in love with him all over again, or maybe I realized I never stopped loving him. At that moment, I remembered the roses he bought me for no reason, the times we ran around lower Manhattan going to psychics to see what they’d say, and the comedy shows where we laughed until our stomachs hurt. Brian never wanted to tell me “no” about anything. He always wanted to see me happy. I never really thought about how I’d feel if one day he was no longer here.

Before he died, he made me promise him that I would never settle for anyone who didn’t treat me the way he treated me. He literally made me look him in the eye and say, “I promise.” Now, when I date, and someone falls short of treating me how he wanted, it’s almost like I grieve him dying all over again. With each disappointment, I am reminded of him and how we really did have something special.

While I can’t turn back the clocks of time, I keep Brian close to my heart every day. And when I find that person who treats me how he wanted me to be treated, I will honor Brian’s life by meeting that standard as well.

Never again will I take anyone’s love for granted.

Anyone else have someone in their lives that they hold close? How do you guys deal with grief? Would love to hear from you guys <3

@amazz94 @bigstudbundy @zsigray81@delanomassey @josh-copeland @jim-c @fpjames7 @oneturbobenz @shelleybrill @telina27