Dear Anger,

I’ve been dishonest in my feelings for too long. I couldn’t stop loving you even if I tried. The level of intimacy that we share is unrivaled. My body knows you’ve arrived long before my brain does. You cause my hands to feel weightless as you cradle them warmly. Your voice is a melody that my ears never tire of. The taste of you spreads across my tongue into every crevice of my mouth. I can feel your spirit like a firecracker within my chest, threatening to make me come undone. When I breathe, I inhale your scent and exhale your passion. You challenge me in ways that I never dreamed possible. When I shirk and shy away from confrontation, your ardent embrace entices me to demand better. When I’m at a loss for words, you grant me yours, even if just for a moment. Your presence is commanding and frightening, and yet I wouldn’t know how to live without it. When something is unjust, it is you that calls for change. It’s one of my favorite things about you. I have to admit that you’re always on my mind, even when you probably shouldn’t be. I think of you in traffic, at work, and especially when I’m watching the news. More than anything, you push me to live my life outside of the bubble we share. You don’t feed into my codependent tendencies; instead, you motivate me to fight against them. You challenge me to consider all the options that I could pursue without you, even though we both know you’re always there for me when I need you. It’s comforting to know that even in my darkest moments, I can rely on your fiery spirit to brighten my path. You are my one true love. Everything I feel, I feel it because of you. You are difficult to love. Most people find you difficult to be around. You can be impatient, vulgar, and rude on your worst days. I’ve grown fond of calling you my unlovable lover in conversation. Sometimes I wish I didn’t love you because maybe then life would be a little easier, a little quieter, a little smaller. But you constantly remind me that love should be hard, loud, and large. I can’t promise much in this life, but I can promise you this; I will fight for your love every day the same way you fight for me. I love you, and I only hope everyone experiences the love I’ve been fortunate enough to share with you.

Your lover,

Makayla Judge

Style Score: 100%

Love it

Since the moment i saw you i fell in love
The age of 5 is where my mind goes watching All that at nick at night
At the age of 7-8 i would watch more channels and just couldn’t get my eyes off of the food channel
“bam ,bam” is the words i heard and the audience clapping right after it
Right before a commercial the show band will play doc gibs
It was chef Emeril lagasse i could not stop watching
He made me fall in love with the kitchen
Influencing my young self to make my first scrambled egg all by myself
Even though i was afraid of fire i still tackled that stove on medium low for a few minutes to cook the eggs
Food and music is a universal language on any occasion it soothes your soul from a birthday or attending a funeral
It is cold comfort food fro a reason
Learning that we have some many spices and seasonings other than salt and pepper
I would later on learn how to cook selfish ,chicken and other protein and just be so proud of myself
Impressing my mom and grandma with my dishes at a young age was the biggest pride
They can leave me alone at home and i will be fine i could cook for myself and sibling if i have to
My biggest pass time is in the kitchen whether it is with family or just trying out new dishes
Cooking is the coolest and most fun way to not only bond with someone but get to know their culture and likes /dislikes

My Dearest Cancer,

When I saw the prompt for this competition—Write a love letter to something, not someone—I knew immediately what I would choose. And I knew it would be controversial. A love letter to cancer? To the harbinger of suffering, the thief of time, the unwelcome guest in so many bodies? It’s a touchy subject, raw and untouchable for many, but for me, meeting you has been a love story—as odd as that may sound.

Not the kind that sweeps you off your feet, but the kind that guts you open, that forces you to see yourself in ways you never dared. You arrived without invitation, burrowing into the most private parts of me—my asshole, of all places—demanding attention, forcing my hand. If nothing else, you’ve got a sense of humor. At first, I braced for war. That’s what everyone told me to do—fight it, beat it, don’t let it win. But I have never been one to follow convention, or accept an easy narrative.

And I found something unexpected.

You became my permission slip. To grieve unapologetically. To cry without restraint, to let others witness my sorrow instead of tucking it away in the polite folds of I’m fine. You made my grief legible in a way my mother’s suicide and my father’s dementia never did. When I lost them, I learned how to disappear into my pain, how to mask my devastation in ways that made others comfortable. But you? You made it impossible to hide. You turned my suffering inside out, made it visible. And people—finally—saw me. They didn’t look away. They sat with me, showed up, and held space for my sorrow in ways I never allowed them to before.

You made my life urgent in a way that only cancer can, forcing me to take inventory of every choice, breath, and heartbeat. What is worth my time? Who do I love? How do I want to spend this one wild, unpredictable life?

I never wanted to beat you, not in the way others do. How could I fight something that has given me so much? Instead, I want to sit with and learn from you. You are the manifestation of all I have endured—trauma that settled into my bones, choices that I made with my body before I understood what they meant. You are not some foreign invader; you are a part of me, shaped by my past, by everything that has ever happened to me. And if I am to heal, I must first love you. Accept you.

You’ve made me take chances. Cracked me open a second time, made me braver, softer, more compassionate. You have shown me the art of forgiveness—not just for others, but for myself. You have sharpened my hunger for life, not in the vague, theoretical sense, but in the way my hands now linger on warm skin, the way I savor the taste of food, the way my laughter rises unrestrained, the way I say I love you first, without fear of how it lands.

You have given me the courage to write again. To pull my stories from the marrow of my experience and lay them bare. Without you, I might never have let my voice slip into the world in the way it was meant to. And maybe that is what you were always meant to do—not to silence me, but to make me louder.

And when you leave, as I hope you will, I will carry the lessons you’ve etched into me. I will cradle the urgency, clarity, and appreciation you’ve awakened. I’ll remember how you taught me to live as if every breath is borrowed, every sunrise a rare gift, every touch a tether to the divine.

I know someday we will have to part. You will fade, and I will go on. But there’s a small part of me that wants to hold onto the urgency you have given, the sharpened awareness of how precious, fleeting—miraculous my existence is.

And while I may have embraced you, I will not become your sycophant. I do not want to love you so much that I let you consume me. I will not bow to you or glorify you beyond your purpose. You have been my teacher, my reckoning, my reminder. But I won’t let you write the ending.

After all, all is fair in love and war—and I have chosen love.

You haven’t merely helped me answer the question of whether I want to live. You have shown me what it means to truly live. And when I think of you in the quiet of my solitude, I won’t curse your name but instead whisper a soft thank you.

And for that, for all of it, I love you.

With gratitude,
Rachel

(PRO WRITING AID STYLE SCORE 91%)

Meeting you was like winning the lottery. It was the best decision I ever made to become your girlfriend. Thank you for loving me for who I am and not wanting to change a thing about me. Thank you for helping me love myself more each day. You consistently go above and beyond, and you have been nothing but a blessing in my life. I’m grateful for you every day, in every moment.

Your touch, your scent, your smile, your eyes—everything about you is perfect to me. You are the most selfless, unique, outgoing, and loving person I have ever known. I remember the first time we met and our first conversation. I recall the moment you thought I was cute and when you asked me to be your girlfriend. It was in Central Park, and it was raining. We stood under a bridge, soaked, and you held me in your arms, asking, “Will you be my girlfriend?” It felt like a scene from a romcom.

I remember our first kiss and all the special moments we’ve shared. We have now been together for 992 days, and we continue to promise each other forever. With you, it truly feels like eternity. I remember when I first fell in love with you; it wasn’t love at first sight. I fell in love when you stayed with me at the hospital for ten hours. That’s when I knew you were different from other men I’ve known, and I love you for that.

People say that when you are truly with the right person, you start to look alike. That’s what I see in us. I love you, handsome, forever and always.

Dearest darling, my beloved,
You’re the one that I most covet.
For all your strength, you can be sweet,
And nothing else can quite compete.
You’re hot, you’re cool but always smooth.
My wrangled feelings you can soothe,
But you can also energize,
And have, indeed, opened my eyes
In ways impossible without
Your potent aid, I have no doubt.
Sometimes, you have a hint of spice,
And yet, I think, you’re awfully nice.
When we’re together, whilst I sup,
I feel I can just drink you up.
So, coffee, coffee, Valentine,
Fill up my cup and, please, be mine.

Prowritingaid Style Score 100%

To the thing that gives me life, the energy within everything that is. My love for you transcends all dimensions, time, and space. I have always felt love for you, but it took me a while to understand you. Growing up, others taught me that your love was conditional and if I was not obedient, then it would no longer be there, but I never believed that. So instead, I let your love live inside of me until I understood it for myself.
You are the reason for life on Earth and the feelings within my body. Because of you, the wind blows and the sun shines. I can feel sadness while also feeling joy, fear while also feeling courage. You are the reason I feel immense peace when staring at the sky. There are no conditions for your love because you are just that: love. The intensity you carry brings people together; creates life on Earth; brings purpose.
Your love is what we are here to find and connect with. A journey that is made specifically for you. Everything always comes back to you. My heart skips a beat thinking of how intense my love for you is because it is simply all that I am. I long for a greater awareness that your love exists and for those to feel it the way I do, because it is what keeps me going. I will dedicate my entire life to sharing my love for you with those around me. My purpose is to show others they can also feel the same love for you as I do.
Universe, you are the reason I live and I would simply not exist without you. Continue sharing your love with me because it is the best feeling I have ever felt. It is strong enough to move mountains and create miracles, but we must accept it. My greatest accomplishment is letting you into my heart, and you will forever be there with me. I love you Universe.
(100% style score)

Dear Coffee,

I just had to tell you how much I love you. I’m so glad you’re a part of my life. Every day, I Wake up just knowing we will be together. You smell so good to me. How you do it, I’ll never know. My lips can’t wait for you to be against them. Your taste is so luscious for me. I can’t get enough of you. Your Aroma fills my room, and it makes me want you even more.

You, baby, are the best I’ve ever had. When I wake up in the mornings, I love knowing you’re there for me, willing and ready to fill feel my every desire. You make my heart skip a beat. Your bold, robust taste is attractive. You are my heart’s delight. I love it when we go out together early in the morning, just before sunrise. I caress you gently against my lips. As the sun rises. As I look down at you, all hot and steamy. And all I can think about is how good my day is going to be. I think about you all day and can never get you off my mind. You’re the one for me. There is no other. I will meet you later at the coffee shop. Until then, your favorite set of lips.

I love you today tomorrow and forever yours truly, coffee girl

STYLE SCORE 100%

When we have to depart from each other, it leaves me with an ache of longing to be in your presence just a bit longer.

I enjoy feeling your grip take hold of me as the flames of desire seem to burn stronger.

All the places I’ve been to, things I’ve done, and faces I’ve seen. I couldn’t have experienced it all on my own, so thank you for assisting in allowing that for me.

My time with you has involved a whirlwind of events and emotions that I may not always understand, fear, or willingly wish to face.

Regardless of those moments, I feel completely safe when I find myself wrapped in your powerful embrace.

You have become my drug that my body craves….my addiction that I can’t shake. After leaving from our time together…my body feels refreshed, rejuvenated, and awake.

I find myself missing you as I carry on throughout my day. Sometimes I find myself in a state of frustration at the fact that I can’t be with you when I want to because my impatience makes it difficult having to wait.

Although I know that I will see you again within hours of having to tell you goodbye. That timeframe, for me, is excruciating, to say the least, because you are never very far from my mind.

Of all that your presence brings me, the 2 most powerful are the sense of euphoria and the blissfully calming peace.

The only thing that I hope you know and will never forget is that I always have, I always do, and I always will… absolutely, undeniably, unconditionally love you My precious sleep.

(47% Style Score)

Dear Pregnancy,
This has been the most intense nine months of my life. I have never grown so much as a person so quickly. From my body, to my relationships, all the way to the way my mind works, you have taught me so much about myself. I won’t lie there has been times when I’ve seriously not liked you, but at the end of this long journey I’ve never been more grateful for an experience more than this one.
At first you were quite a head rush. Everything about you seemed exciting. I told everyone about you. Every person in my life was excited for me. In my mind, I had always wanted this. There was nothing that could break my happy high. I started planning as soon as you arrived. Some could even say I got a little ahead of myself with how quickly I moved as soon as I found out.
Then suddenly there was all the bad. The sickness all day every day. The hatred for all the foods I once loved. The sleepless nights of insomnia. The absolute shame I felt looking into the mirror. The amount of friends I lost. Last but certainly not least, the dread of feeling like there was no way in the world I could ever be a mother.
Slowly but surely, you taught me the reverse of all these things. Like how the sickness was my body starting the creation of my little boy. The fact that losing my favorite foods meant temporarily enjoying all the weird and fun cravings. Even some things I never liked at all! All the sleepless nights made me be so much more appreciative of my rest and how important it is for me, because before I took my rest for granted. I also have a beautiful new outlook on my body image because of you. I grew a whole human! Do you know how insane that is to wrap your head around? I may have a tummy and definitely no thigh gap, but I have the most wonderful little man in the entire world. I also learned that some friends are meant to be left in the past. There are some who are behind closed doors super fake and are not deserving of my love and devotion. There are also some who I had to let go because they were not healthy for me and I would have never seen that without you. Lastly, I was so scared of being a mom. I did not think I had what it takes to be one. Maybe I don’t, but now I know that there’s nothing in the world I would not do for this little guy. I have learned that I am going to make so so so many mistakes and that sometimes my belief in myself is going to shake. That’s okay. This will make me stronger and will help me grow and learn so I can do better for him.
So I guess I’m just trying to say thank you. Thank you for all the bad that I did not understand was all the good. Thank you for teaching me to grow as a person. Thank you for pushing me to learn so much about myself. Thank you for seeking out my genuine friends. Thank you for making my relationship with my partner blossom in new ways I didn’t know to be possible. Most importantly, thank you for my little boy who I can’t wait to watch grow, and learn, and love. Thank you.
Our time seemed long while it was here. When in reality it was quite short. I look forward to visiting you in the future again. I cannot wait to see what else you will teach me then.
Love always,
A first time mom……
(Style Score- 62%)

Beautiful Promise,

Your metal is both cold and hot. The chill of your initial presence makes you hard to ignore, but it is your warmth that tells me how special you truly are. It is as if all the love shared between my partner and I have embedded deeply within you. The continuous circle represents the never ending bond between lovers. Your diamonds shine with the blinding bliss of knowing we’ve come this far. And your unique design, both of antique detail and modern style, tells of a story for the ages. You hold our history, the good, the bad, and the lovely. You are my reminder of the bold love I am blessed to share, and I will forever cherish you.

Love,

A Future Bride

Style Score 100%

Dearest love of my life,

I love you with every breath of my being
I love your good
I love your bad
I love everything about you
I love you easy but hard
I fell for you when I was 13
I never experienced a love as this
It was a cosmic unbalance that knocked me off my feet
The chemistry between you and I
I needed to touch you, see you, feel you and that creativity of bliss
I needed you, I yearned you in the deepest place of my soul
Poetry, you have always been the one for me
Always and forever, oh how you’ve completed me
I love the foreplay in our wordplay as the ink splatter thy pages
Coming together making masterpieces of disbelief
The relief you give me for allowing me to completely be me
It’s Always been you and I
Pen full of ink and pages in the wind
We make love constantly, intertwined, combined and the euphoria is devine

Dear you;

My love. My kryptonite. My coldest enemy and my warmest embrace. I never thought I would be yours. People say that you fall in love in certain ways, and I may have acknowledged it, but I never actually believed it to be true. Yet here I am, palms sweating at the thought of lacking your presence. At first you were a subtle love. I played it cool. We didn’t get together that much, and I never called you during our time apart. It didn’t take long for me to fall head over heels in love with you. The way you took the breath out of my chest. The way I could feel alive in your presence, and the nights that we would spend together, learning everything about one another. I will never be the same after meeting you. This will now be my life as I know it, and YOU gave that to me. You opened up parts of my mind and my soul that I hadn’t known existed before. You enveloped me in courage, confidence, and motivation to be better. You uplifted me.

At first. You helped me through my long work days, and you pushed me to get through my roles as a mother until I was finally allowed rest. At first. You taught me how to have fun again, and how it felt to be amongst friends. At first. You taught me to be responsible, and how to build and maintain the best possible life for myself. At first.

But shortly afterward, you started changing. You started changing me. My night shifts were easier, but my roles as a mother became more and more scarce. Soon enough, after CPS involvement and harsh words exchanged between the fathers of my children, I got the girls less. Even more so after my children were traumatized by the person you made me become. I lost them. My babies. Eventually, my job followed suit. Soon enough, it wasn’t fun anymore, and I saw more evil amongst the snakes disguised as friends than I had ever witnessed prior to you. My life started to crumble before me like shattering teeth as I lost every bit of my self esteem. Eventually, I crashed. Into the pits of what most may call rock bottom. You watched me smash into it’s dark, cold, lonely, fucked up pit, and instead of grabbing my hand and helping me, you laughed at me. You mocked me. With the most sinister smile, you reminded me that they had all warned me about you, and I hadn’t listened.

I knew you would break my heart. I knew you would leave me weak when you took my strength, lonely when I ruined every relationship around me just to keep yours, broken from when you influenced me to make these stupid decisions. You weren’t there for me when I fell down the way that you promised you would be. As I look around, I am on my own. The only people present are the ones asking me if I am hungry, because my homelessness is now suddenly so obvious. The families feeling sorry for me because they know what I am lacking, or judging me, because my absolute need for you is becoming physically apparent.

I put my trust in you. Gave my life to you, methamphetamine. You did what every single person told me you would. You grabbed ahold of me and you dug your claws deep inside of me. You held on for dear life and you watched me ambush mine. You sat back while I self-destructed and turned myself into an empty shell of the person that I used to be. You stole my sunshine. You stole my kids. My home. My job. My family. My friends. You made me depend on you, and you taunt me every fucking day of my life. Those that don’t know you should feel fortunate. Because you are a monster. A beautiful, vicious, exciting, terrifying existence, and I wouldn’t wish you on my worst enemy. Yet here I stand, with you in my daily routine. Learning more and more new ways to experience the absolute fucking euphoria that accompanies you for those few moments after we connect. Shaking, nauseated, in physical agony, and desperate for you when you are gone. I love you, and you fucking hate me. You prove that to me every day as you assist me in letting go of one more piece of myself.
I will never forget you, but I need to say goodbye.

(Style Score 77%)

Dear little Chloe,

I’m just gonna rip the Bandaid off quickly, and I apologize because I know you were always more of a peel-the-Bandaid kind of girl. But trust me that it’s easier if I just tell you that you’re a lesbian.

Yeah, you heard me right.

I’m not sure if you even know what being a lesbian means, I know Mom and Dad never talked to you about sexuality or the queer community, they always just assumed you would grow up, fall in love, and marry a man. Being a lesbian is no different, you grow up, fall in love, but you fall in love with a woman.

And no, there’s nothing wrong with that, despite what you’ve been told.

I know you’ve had trouble being vulnerable with your feelings, expressing what’s going on inside your head, and being honest with yourself. I know that you feel the need to suppress the love you have towards others, and God, I know you have so much love in your heart to give.

I know that deep down in your introverted soul, you want to experience love one day. You long for having someone to love, and to receive that kind of love back. I know you search for it, filling your daydreams with this boy or that boy, and you think you like them because boys are the only thing you know to associate with love. The possibility of love with a girl has never crossed your mind.

But, do you remember Jackie? The girl you met in your karate class? You hated karate because it required too much yelling and that clashed with your quiet personality. You quit after three classes, but you didn’t stop thinking about Jackie. You wanted to be her “best friend,” she was the only thing you looked forward to in that karate class.

Or the girl named Carly in your cooking class you took when you were about eight? I know you were flustered when she gave you a hug on the last day of class, and you thought about the hug in the backseat of Mom’s car on the way home.

What about Avery, the girl in your drama class? You wanted to get to know her better, so you would try to sit next to her in class and talk to her during breaks. You didn’t know why you were so drawn to her or why you didn’t have a crush on any boy during middle school.

You finally figured it out in high school, with this girl Avalon. She was older than you and funnier than you, which is a rare occurrence because you’re pretty damn funny. But, it drew you towards her, you found her alluring, magnetic in a way. She was everything to you, you aspired to be her, but you aspired for more, you just couldn’t put your finger on what. It clicked one day after having a conversation with her, you had never felt so seen before. You finally came to terms that you liked her, and yes, you liked a girl.

Love with women comes easy to you, you don’t even have to try. They take your breath away, they mystify you, they’re like a challenge. Tough, but once you figure them out, rewarding. And when you fall for a girl, you fall hard. It’s unlike anything you have ever felt from a boy.

I’m not saying it was that easy, though, in fact it was difficult on you. You faced a lot of self-doubt in your feelings rather than just trusting your gut. You tried to bottle up the feelings towards her, shove them in a dark corner in your mind, or forget about them. Pardon my language because I know you don’t like when people use profanities, but there was no way in hell that you could make your feelings for her go away. They were undeniable, unlike anything you have ever felt for a boy before. It was like an epiphany.

It was harder for you to even consider telling other people. What would people think about you? Would they think differently of you or talk behind your back? What would your family think? You love your family, and you didn’t want to mess up your relationship with them by telling them this new information about yourself.

Remember to take a breather. It’s okay to be nervous.

I’ll tell you this, we took it one step at a time.

Turns out, people are pretty accepting, and that’s something to be grateful for, because this isn’t the case for most gay people. You told our little sister first, she barely batted an eye, and you cried in the bathroom after. But, you cried happy tears.

You told two of your cousins next, and turns out one of them also likes girls. The other gave you a fist bump. You went home with a smile on your face.

And then you started to tell your friends, friends who were close to you and who you could trust. They only smiled and said, “Wait, really?” You said yes, you liked girls, and they were like “Me too!”

Finally, you told Mom. She called you over the phone and you cried happy tears because she wasn’t upset with you like you thought she would be. People can surprise you sometimes. She even apologized if she ever said anything insensitive, and said that she loved you regardless. It’s not so scary once you put yourself out there. Yes, not everybody is going to be accepting of you, but I suppose that’s a way to see who your real friends are, and who you can depend on and trust. Because good people will love you no matter who you fall in love with.

If I had to give you any advice, I would tell you to go easy on yourself and to acknowledge your feelings. It’s okay to feel ways that other people don’t and it’s okay to love who you want to love. There is nothing wrong with who you love and how you express love.

I’m sure you’re thinking about what God has to say about us, and honestly we’ll never really know. But, the God I believe in made us the way that we are for a reason, and He has so much love for us because loving who we want doesn’t make us bad people. We were born this way, and there isn’t anything we can do to change the way we are. So no, we’re not going to hell because we want to kiss girls.

But, I’d like to leave you with a good note. Being part of the queer community is a beautiful thing, as silly as it may sound to you. I know you’re going to grow up learning that being gay should not be part of your lifestyle, it’s something that you shouldn’t support, and something you’re going to learn to look down upon as a Christian. But, there’s real beauty in the community and something so liberating about identifying as queer. There’s something so remarkable about queer friendships and relationships that I can’t quite articulate in the form of words.

But yeah, I just wanted you to know that you’ll be okay. I love you, take your time, and you’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel. I love you, little C. Be kind to yourself.

Love, big C.

The first thing you should know, Jasmine, is that you are so full of love and light that the waters of your love threaten to drown you in its depths. You spend your days treading the waves constantly, just barely keeping your head above the surface. Ebbing. Flowing. Searching for a vessel to pour yourself into and lighten your load.

You should know that your power lives here. In the billowing floods of tears at the prospect of your greatest fear: abandonment.

It will take a grueling 10 years of isolation for this to change, but it is in this isolation that you’ll excite yourself in other ways, through a discovery of a world that exists beyond the local AMC theatre or the rollerink you’re never invited to.

The shelter you created for yourself out of fictional worlds, boyband lore, and a brief obsession with John Hughes films– is only temporary. The ache to be known and understood will return, as it always does. You will hate this part of yourself, but it will fester and grow nonetheless.

The feeling will persist even once we reach high school and are granted the popularity we craved for so long after the years of rejection. You will succeed in most things, and it will create a new fear in you. A fear of losing it all one day. A fear of disappointing the people you love. A fear of being known as anything besides this new, carefully crafted persona.

You should know that throughout all of this, the universe has been watching you blossom, beaming down at its beautiful flower child as you shed your petals and grew them anew season after season.

One day you’ll call out to the universe for a lesson to help you understand why the fear won’t go away.

And in answer, the universe sent us a man so beautiful and broken it knew we would never be able to resist the call to action. The urge to lick his wounds and patch his ego back together so that he could be the man we dreamed of. We poured ourselves into him and over him to be his champion in the war he’d waged against himself. We stepped out from behind our crooked shield, swimming head to toe in oversized rusted armor and brandished the all too heavy sword of our love upwards at the heavens to prove ourselves.

Because our devotion to the sick, the weak, the needy, has always overshadowed our devotion to ourselves. As if our worth couldn’t exist alone. Because we believed that deep down, the secret to a perfect world, was that everyone should simply exist in service of those who need it most. And the universe, all knowing as it is, knew that the only way I’d give up this belief in self sacrifice was if it taught me what the best and the worst of humanity can look like in the lesson that was Him.

There was a time where He would have destroyed us. Where we would have been so desperate for Him to see the pain He’d inflicted that we would have abandoned our self image in pursuit of revenge. Painted our face until we no longer hated the watery eyes staring back at us in the mirror. Starved ourselves skinny and stripped ourselves bare to expose this stranger’s body to the men we’d never risk exposing our heart to again. We’d reign terror and spit venom until the memory of Him came creeping back in. Then we’d crawl back to him on bruised knees and beg for salvation.

But, luckily, this was not the first time the Universe has tried to teach us this particular lesson. We failed the first time, to choose ourselves. Because you are me and I am you and I was so desperate to protect you from my loneliness, I looked the devil in his eyes and pleaded with him, as his hands tightened around my neck until my vision dulled, to love me. Please love me.

We were strong this time, Jasmine. We turned to the sky and asked the stars what to do about Him and they answered us, as they always do. The wind came down and dried our tears and whistled in our ear to simply let go and trust in them. And we did.

And despite it all we still love in spite of the love we never felt. We smile at strangers, and text people photos of rainbows we see outside, and tell the people we love that we love them every single time we feel it. There are still trials and tribulations and tears and sorrow. But when I talk to the universe, it talks back to me. And we will never be alone again.

A Girl with a Watering Can by Pierre-Auguste Renoir is the most vivid of my childhood memories. Mounted on the living room wall, I would lie on the floor and stare intently at the blond-haired, blue-eyed girl attired in my favorite hue and transport myself to that ethereal garden. I longed to be standing amid the colors of our creator, engaging in the tranquil scene where life seemed simple. A watering can and flowers, listening to the birds sing where monsters didn’t roam.  
The delicate balance of staying present but sending my thoughts to wander where I’m not that little girl whose innocence was lost.  I belonged there, standing with confidence that I was protected from seeing the world with ghosts that forever linger in my memories.  The scene calmed my desire to disappear as a teen when I opened the door and welcomed yet another attack on my young body.  If I closed my eyes tight enough, I could smell the fresh scent of spring and breathe out the marred reflection of my battered soul.  
Were the angels crying when they saw the destruction of my once fearless spirit?  My heart drops when my mind retraces the hours spent secluded in unwanted noise.  The endless nightmares that interrupt my slumber and consume the midnight hours with fear, the flashbacks and panic that attack without warning. 
One moment can alter the trajectory of one’s destination in life.  For me, this moment lifted the fog I had been existing in for more than three decades. The veil came off. One person’s presence in my life, though they may not have realized it, was a turning point that awakened me to my value and deservingness of a more fulfilling existence.  My angel on earth who reminded me of my worth. Conversation without judgment, presence without pretense, and love without condition became the key that had been lost and could now open the lock to restore what had been hidden.  The revelations that came with that were eye-opening. The beginning of everything that was buried. Years of collecting dust brought me to this uncomfortable yet necessary pivotal moment in my life. 
The murmurs of the pale blue corolla, only outdone by the fragrance of the perfume scenting my space bring me back to childhood days where time spent outdoors felt carefree and unburdened. The pretty blooms greeted me as I headed outside to spend the day. Though the blooms only last a short while, the timing is magnificent. A tender beginning into longer days, brilliant sunshine, and joyous memories. Beauty enters at a time when everything else has yet to shine. The hope that all would be right in time.
Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. These are the words I want to live. I want to remove the words that bring no purpose. Discard any that brings pain and grief. Concentrate on one at a time but knowing that one will lead to two and so on.
However, before I could get there, I had to heal myself. I must love myself and I’m not sure if I ever had. I always thought that I did but it’s become obvious that if it had once been true, it ceased to be at some point along the way. Maybe it was a little at a time and I just took no notice. It’s possible I never quite knew how to love myself and thinking that it was selfish of me to do that. I’ve always felt guilt where guilt didn’t belong. I couldn’t see how loving yourself manifests into a better life not only for me but also allows healthy and safe relationships for those who enter our lives along the way. I was always great at taking care of my body, but I lacked in the area of my head and my heart. I never felt I had earned it. The hard part was believing I deserved it and holding fast to that commitment. Maybe it needs to be read: Love. Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. The first love is for me and then the healing is followed by the rest.
It’s in our nature to take pictures of only the good times to reminisce about.  Those moments of our lives that were captured on film, the celebrations, the birth of children, family get-togethers.  Mostly happy, joyous occasions that showed those in attendance with brilliant smiles or immersed in laughter that more often than not included a few tears from the sidesplitting cachinnations.  Brief seconds where expressions of love or contentment were captured to look back and hold onto that feeling.  I found very few solemn times captured that would dampen our moods.  I did find a few though.  A smile was missing or there were tears in my eyes.  If only I could go back and hug that girl and tell her she is loved.  
The hesitation to love my body completely has always been greater than the acceptance. To truly appreciate what God has given me. I had only seen the imperfections, the scars. Those on the surface and others hidden inside. This body, the one that holds the best parts of me, my mind, heart, and soul is worthy of praise. It’s traveled with me on quite a journey and deserves respect and admiration. The thought has crossed my mind that I’ve never realized the magnitude of all it has done for me.
The vault that holds my memories, the enchanting moments sprinkled throughout the years. The key to opening all that is my imagination and the sparks that have taken flight from it. The wounds that have been mended, though many carry the secrets better left unsaid. The ability to heal and endure is magical on its own. The miracles of life that were created and brought into this life are joyous accomplishments. The arms that cradled the tiny beings to the breasts that nourished their bodies are elements of love and nurture. They were conceived and survived within this flesh. To be in awe of the wonder of motherhood. The strength to continue each day no matter what obstacles are placed in its path.
This canvas of flesh has persevered and shown unyielding resolve with each confrontation or denial of self-love. This impermanent model God felt worthy enough to mold is incredible. A symbol of bravery, strength, and beauty deserving of garnering unwavering attention and affection. The time has come to cast the shadows aside and nurture my mind, speak kindly to my heart, and whisper to my soul that I am worth every beautiful opportunity and acknowledgment I am given. I am still here breathing and healing. I was never broken. I just needed to bloom.
 I sit and watch the sunrise on a beautiful day.  It’s spectacular. Seasons change as life does. The cool crisp air awakens my senses and fills my lungs with the scent of renewal.  I find solace in nature’s cyclical rhythm.  The leaves, like memories, rustle, and fall, making way for the promise of spring.  Today’s beauty is eternal, unfettered by the limitations of human life. The sun’s warm touch ignites a sense of gratitude within me.  Each breath is a gift.  Each moment is a treasure.  The seasons have taught me to cherish each moment.  To find beauty in decay and rebirth.  In this fleeting dawn, I feel alive.  The world awakens, vibrant and pulsing.  
 Birds sing their morning hymns, as God’s creatures begin to stir.  I seek simplicity, a sunrise, a breeze, a loved one’s touch.  Life’s complexities fall away, leaving only room for love.  As Autumn’s palette paints the sky, I am reminded:  that every ending marks a new beginning. And in this acceptance, I find peace.  Time, once a linear path, now unfolds like a lotus.  Petals of memory unfurl, releasing the fragrance of the possibility of a better future. Today’s radiance assures me every moment is a masterpiece.

Dear Teenage Me,

Greetings from the future! I would ask, “how’s it going?”, but I already know: life is kind of overwhelming for you right now. Your family recently moved to a new country and here you are, still trying to gain your bearings and fit in at your new school all while your body and mind are experiencing so many changes. There is so much that frustrates you in general and perhaps the most frustrating thing that hits closest to home is your one and only younger sister. I know, I know, you’re probably wondering, “why are we focusing on her in a letter for me?” Please bear with me and hear me out.

People have been comparing the two of you for as long as you can remember. Maybe it’s because you only have an 18-month age gap between you and how much other people think you look like. Either way, the similarities haven’t changed how differently people treat you. As the older sister, you’re the role model. You’re the responsible one. So when anything goes wrong, it always comes back to your behavior (or lack thereof) in some way. That’s been true since childhood. After all, was it proper for you to go play when your sister had homework and would be distracted by your actions? Was it proper for you to have a dirty room if it meant being a bad example for her? If she was too loud, was it proper for you to leave her to her own devices instead of telling her to take it down a notch (or ten)? The answer, of course, was always no. The expectations for you weren’t always spoken but they were clear: you had to know better and it was your job to look after your sister.

I know the expectations are even higher now. You understand that your behavior makes a statement about how your parents raised you. You revel in the praise of getting good grades, conforming to the rules, and making your community proud. You understand social cues and adjust your behavior accordingly. Meanwhile, your sister struggles in school and gets into trouble. You see how people stare and laugh at her, not with her. Your parents hear about it from her teachers, and their response is always the same: “talk to your sister”. While you want to help, you also wish you didn’t have to. You wish she could just…figure things out and not attract so much negative attention. You wish she would take responsibility and self-adjust, as you do, instead of making more trouble for herself and for you by extension.

There is a strong feeling of bitterness that often rises in your chest these days that you don’t have a word for yet. The word is “resentment”, and you feel it in spades. It’s the reason why there is so much anger in your voice whenever you talk to her. It’s the reason why there are hidden and not-so-hidden jabs in the way you speak about her. It’s also the reason why you don’t see how much she is struggling too. How she struggles to figure out whether people want to be their friend or their entertainment. How she also feels the weight of others’ expectations, except unlike you, she knows that she doesn’t meet them. While your resentment highlights her flaws, it allows you to forget her incredible sense of humor or the fact that she is one of the kindest people you know, despite the bullying she experiences. Your resentment makes you so focused on your own confusion and pain that you can’t see her own.

And when you do figure this out years later and remember the screaming matches, the tears, the mean words, the first thing you’re going to feel is shame. Shame for not being the sister she needed and not being able to take those words back. But wait, there’s hope! I write to you from a time when you and your sister are a strong unit. You laugh and cry together. You apologize better when you upset each other. You now poke gentle fun at your differences and are still fiercely protective of each other. Eventually, you’ll start to forgive yourself for what you didn’t know and what you could have done better. You’ll start learning from her how to be yourself more and contort yourself less. And when your sister encourages you to write, you will roll your eyes good-naturedly and move onto other things without realizing that she has planted one of the many seeds that need to sprout before you’re ready to take that leap.