Dear Wynonna Judd:

You and I could be sisters, I would be the older one. I’ve listened to you and your mom for years. Your angelic voices heard on the airwaves of country music. With hits like Why Not Me (1984), Grandpa (1985) and Love Can Build A Bridge (1990), you were always on my radio.

Then when your mom died in 2022, I felt I’d lost something too. But my loss of hearing your mom’s beautiful voice was nothing compared to your loss of a mother and a life long singing partner. I’m sure the whole is deep, and still healing. I lost my mom in 2016 and there are still raw spots in my heart.

In 1993 you released Only Love, your second single. Your voice is so pure and vulnerable. That song moved me. That time in my life with a bit of a fog. My kids were both born and I realized that my marriage was simply my unrealistic fairy tale.

Only Love allowed me sail away from my reality to an island of green and be free. I could feel my feet on solid ground even with the waves coming crashing down. That song was my source of strength during a turbulent time. I hung on your every word.

I must go for now, knowing I can put my trust in just one thing, for me it’s God and his love. I hope you have a blessed day; one filled with only love.

Dear Sara Evans:

In 2005 I went through a nasty divorce after 20+ years of marriage. The man I married, had two children with, turned in a monster, turning my kids against me, lying to close friends causing a wedge that would never be released.

The scars of that marriage ran deep. To naively love someone for over two decades, left raw emotions; some of which may never heal.

Fast forward to 2010, when I heard your song A Little Bit Stronger, the true healing began. God sent you to me through my radio. As I listened for the first time, I sobbed uncontrollably. You wrote my anthem song.

Since that time, you have been by my side like a best friend. Since I first heard it, that song has been part of my music library. When I need a little boost, there you are to remind me that each day I am a little bit stronger.

Last weekend my husband attended your concert in Hiawassee GA. I worked early that day, so I was tired, but I had to stay. I loved listening to your new songs are well as your past hits. But your last song was the one I’d come to here.

Sara, I can tell you that, although I am in a good marriage now, and at a good place in my life. That song brought me to tears, and I could feel your words infusing me with strength.

I’ve got to close for now, I’m busy today, getting stronger. Thank you for being a source of strength even on my weakest days.

Dear Younger Self:

I take one glance at you, and the first words that come to mind are weathered and worn. You have been through so much and have had it sheltered in what you had considered your safe place. I know you were so young so there was no way for you to fully conceptualize the magnitude of everything that was happening to you as you were developing.

Waking up and dragging yourself every day was a struggle. You would beg and plead to just stay home as to not face what was going on with you in school. I could look at your face and see the visible stress that your childhood was causing you.

You went to school only to get teased and laughed at because of your disability. Something that was not your fault and no one else’s fault. You were being neglected and left behind by teachers and the people who were meant to be there as a building block in your life seemed more like a roadblock.

Because of the neglect I felt, my typing teacher called a meeting to tell my mother that I smelled of urine. My mom got visibly upset and said that if I had the help I needed, this meeting would have never had to happen.

I would say that this situation was the turning point that caused you to go downhill as far as depression is concerned. I look back on that version of you, and the first thing I recall is the bags under your eyes from no sleep and your disheveled hair from an obvious lack of self-care.

I can clearly remember when you were begging your mom to let you stay home from school to avoid the overly emotional load and toll it took on both your mind and body. Your parents had to continually remind you of how far you had already come and that you only had a couple of months left.

I knew from the way that you were struggling that months would feel more like years. Thec days were grueling, going from feeling like you were someone important to the feeling that you felt like you didn’t matter to anyone.

These mood swings had your depression declining in every sense of the word. So much so that you had begun to wonder if life was worth living anymore. You came home every single day to put your Lifehouse “No Name Face” CD on and cry your eyes out because the lyrics of every song had an unusual tug on both your heart and mind. You had never felt a connection with a band like this, and you knew that it was something very special. So special in fact that the lyrics from the song “Simon” can be credited with saving your life and bringing you back to life in a way that would become nothing short of a miracle.

As you move on in your life and graduate from high school, this is when you begin to see significant changes in both your behavior and mental health status. You had never experienced such a positive feeling before. College was a turning point when you had a great interest in your social work studies and were fully immersed in techniques to help others while also becoming a better person and working on the prosperous adult you were working so unbelievably hard to become.

Your grades were excellent and you were feeling like a brand-new person in all aspects of the word. I believe that college can also be credited with your positive decisions to keep going no matter what roadblocks you have yet to face. There would be numerous ups and downs, but the good news is now you know how to handle them in appropriate ways.

You should be immensely proud of yourself. You rose up from the very bottom of depression, only to rise as a more confident and loving human being. You did what a lot of other people unfortunately don’t end up doing, and that is surviving the worst moments of your life. You still do not give yourself adequate credit. You are so strong; your strength is your pinnacle. Not enough can ever be said about the way you have chosen to live despite the fact that your disability has taken over your body and stripped you of your once-treasured independence. You always tell others that your patience and laid-back attitude are your secret to happiness, However, I feel that your strength is your real superpower. Give yourself the credit, it is not arrogant when it is the truth.

The past still haunts me when I pull into certain places. I can still feel your grip. I thought I made amends with it, but it still makes itself known as a horrible nightmare that won’t go away. It’s been seven years now and it can still make me cry. You probably don’t even remember.

I had been running errands all day and had to stop and use the restroom. The closest one available was the one I didn’t want to stop at. Damn! That would mean I would have to go out of my way to find a different one. It had been seven years since I had been in that gas station. God, I don’t want to go in there. This is so stupid! Jesus, it’s been seven years. That’s it I’m going in. I am so tired of you still dictating where I go. You probably don’t even remember.

So, I parked my car, and stomping my feet I went in. As soon as the door shut, I was brought back to that night. I honestly don’t remember why you even got mad. Wait it’s the reason you always got angry. Jealously of some made-up thoughts or ideas in your mind of me being with someone else. The funny thing is I was always with you even when I didn’t want to be and that was a lot of the time. I remember you dropping me off at Walmart and threatening to leave me again like you did. So I ran to that gas station. You probably don’t even remember.

You would do that a lot drive around endlessly never taking me home. I felt like I was in your car for days staring out the window…oh wait I was. I remember you asking me “What are you doing?’ I said, “reading all the signs.” I thought if someone could hear me then they would know where I am and maybe they will find me. You know if I ended up dead. You would then threaten to leave me at some faraway place with no phone and no money. Standing there in the parking lot helpless and hopeless. You probably don’t even remember.

God what is that smell…oh I’m still in the bathroom. I was pretty sure you were going to hit me again. So, I locked myself in that nasty stall, so I felt safe. Then the knock came along with your voice and as scared as I was, I let you in. Damn, why did I always let you in? You pushed your way in and grabbed my neck and shoved me up against the wall. I honestly can’t recall what you said. My mind just shut down and then you left. I slowly opened the door and went out I didn’t see your car thank God. So, I ran to Walmart only to find you there. Looking left and then to my right not a car in sight. Damn, why did I always get in? It’s finally starting to fade the memories of you. Thank God I can’t make your face out I guess my brain is shielding me from you.
You probably don’t even remember.

Why can’t I love him?
He makes me all tingly in the morning leaving me begging for more.
Why can’t I love him?
His Cheshier smiles draw me in and hypnotizes me.
Why can’t I love the way he kisses me?
As if my kisses alone are the fountains of youth to my soul.
Why can’t I love the way he speaks?
With that accent that leaves me like putty in his hands.
Why can’t I love the way he cuddles me in his arms?
He shields me from the world.
Why can’t I love the way he laughs?
His laugh Ignites a spark in my heart that brings me pure joy.
Why can’t I love the way he takes care of me?
He makes me feel safe for the first time in a decade.
Now tell me why I can’t love this man.

Today I was driving rushing and running on my 30-munitue lunch break. Hurring to get back to work to eat my fried shrimp and for a moment I thought I saw you. For the first time I didn’t get scared. Anxiety didn’t run the show, and I didn’t have to stop my mind from going down that rabbit hole. Instead, I parked the car smiled to myself the biggest smile and almost cried. Not because I am sad but because for the first time, I didn’t get scared. I realized just how strong I am and the scars that you left have healed. I didn’t get that pit in my stomach, and I didn’t lose control. I held my head high, stood my ground and I didn’t have to fight with my former self. For the first time in 6 years, I didn’t get scared. Anxiety didn’t run the show, and I didn’t have to stop my mind from going down that rabbit hole. Today was the day I realized I was free.

My grandfather Dr.Leroy Pike taught me Many things and one was too NEVER GIVE UP, If I ever needed help with a project, he didn’t care he was there, and I ALWAYS WON, with his help,I was in highschool and my grandfather saw my classes I was taking for the following year and he KNEW I was better than that, so he went and challenged me and I was in highschool only 3 years, My senior semester, we got word he had Cancer, WOW, I remember hearing him cry and I knew Real Superheroes cried, he got to see me graduate Highschool and was at my wedding, but sadly 3 years later on that very day, he would pass away, ITS BEEN 16 years and there’s NOT A DAY goes by I don’t think of him.God knew I only needed 1 Grandfather and HE WAS and still is My Superhero

A symbol of love , a reminder of warring bloodshed,
Such is the dichotomy
That lies in the power of the color red.

Red is willpower, the mind of “She”

She who is openly strong
She who is secretly kind.
Cheering from the front
But lingering 2 steps behind.

Red is bold, the exclusivity of “She”
She who is reclusive
A rare treasure to find.

Red is danger, the strength of “She”
Red is this fiery woman
The little girl has dared one day to be.

Red is desire, the passion of “She”
A shade depicting her struggles,
A sign of her unwavering, rebellious thought.
Color of the scars from all the battles she fought.

When she needed to stand out, it was her color of choice,
The color of celebration,
Color of her freedom, her will, her voice.

Every day the search is so real
In obvious, yet often vague fashion
The path is forever passing through
Mirage and tangible peaks and valleys

When molehills turn to mountains
When that oasis ahead offers nothing
Only barren and deserted ground
The insurmountable desire to fade becomes
An obstacle we struggle to overcome

Every day the struggle is sincere
How to permeate and see beyond
Our perceived vision of that molehill
The lying mirage we cling to in hope
Of quenching that continuous thirst on the journey

Strive to find the meanings lying in wait
Infinite is their patience the meanings exists
While often not simple the reward is priceless
Knowledge is power and awareness the weapon

Search and struggle brings truth
Even if only your own to hold
Because at the end of every path we choose
Is a new one only you can walk

Kosmic_Kachina2469

Dear Unsealers,

When I was a little girl, my grandfather bounced me on his knee and sang “Three Little Fishes” as I giggled through the song. All he ever wanted was for me to feel joy in life. He died when I was 13. It was my first experience with overwhelming grief, and I was devastated. I coped by leaning into the idea that my grandfather was watching over me and cheering me on in all my pursuits.

He used to tell me that the rain was good luck. So, whenever it rained during big moments of my life, I believed it was my grandfather signaling to me, “Don’t worry, I am here.” It rained at my high school graduation. It rained when I scored big goals in soccer. It rained when I interviewed for my dream job as a sports anchor. It poured the day I was offered that job, which happened to be my late grandfather’s birthday. It seemed like it was always raining on the most important days of my life, which only cemented my belief that my grandfather was watching out for me.

However, on November 30, 2022, it was a clear night in Miami — not a cloud in the sky. I decided to attend a networking event for people in Miami who work in technology. There, I made eye contact with this tall, handsome man. He started talking to me, and after telling him about my company, The Unsealed, he told me that he had founded an online company when he was younger. He said his site received 20,000 organic hits daily (that’s a lot). And so, I started asking many questions — it was rapid-fire, one after the other. At some point, he stopped me and said, “Do you want to continue this conversation over tacos?” And so, we left and ate Mexican street corn and tacos on a picnic table outside a restaurant that doubles as a speakeasy.

It didn’t take me long to realize that this man was kind, intelligent, classy, funny, and thoughtful. From that day forward, we started spending a lot of time together: dinners, events, and even weekend trips. As I opened up to him about my past and my pain, he listened closely. He asked questions, and he never judged me. One time, we were watching a movie, and I had a flashback from my sexual assault. I put the pillow over my head and asked him to change the channel quickly. He turned off the TV, and as my eyes started to well up with tears, he said, “Come here, let me hold you.” When I shared my fears and insecurities about building a company, he said, “Lauren, think of the ten smartest people you’ve ever encountered, and I promise you at least nine of them couldn’t do what you’ve done.” To this day, he always follows through when he makes a promise to me, whether it be a trip to a foreign place or to my favorite restaurant. From the beginning, he has known when I am happy, anxious, frustrated, or hungry — just by the look on my face — and has responded accordingly. He is so in tune with who I am and how I feel that it seems as though my peace is his priority.

Even so, early in our relationship, I was afraid to trust the authenticity of his love. I had been disappointed so many times in love and relationships, and I was on edge, just waiting for the shoe to drop — just waiting for something to go wrong. I couldn’t live in the moment as I was too afraid it would soon end. One night, he was on his computer while I was resting on his couch, and I randomly asked him what his name meant in his culture. He was in the middle of working and responded, “I don’t know — something with water.” So I googled it. His name translates as “the God of rain.”

In disbelief, that was the moment I began to let myself love and be loved. That was the moment I started to trust my partner and the universe. It was the reassurance I needed to know I was safe. About a year later, he proposed to me on the boardwalk at Disney World. We are getting married in a few months, and I am so excited. Falling in love has enriched my life and made the present moment so special, so much so that it has made me believe that magic exists in all of our lives.
For years, the rain was a way for me to stay connected to the joy my grandfather brought me, but now, it’s what allowed me to embrace the joy right before me.

With immense hope and gratitude,

Enchantment I can see, the world is full of possibilities…
The connection that I feel, to something POWERFUL, something greater than me
The feeling of heaven on earth,
The channeling of mystical energy
Feeling what I feel, receiving an inner knowing that magic is REAL
Believing what I see, signs in the universe make me believe, make me believe in magic
What I imagine, is what I see
Dream a little and you will see,
Dream BIG, and it will be!
When I believe, the POWER’S in me, then I will see!
If I BELIEVE in magic