Dear LG,

Some things were easy for you, while many other children have struggled. You learned how to read when you were two years old, and you do not remember a time when you did not know how to read. 

You do not remember struggling. On the first day of school, you were the only kid in your kindergarten class who could already read.

That is impressive and I am so proud of you! What is even more amazing is learning a skill you struggled with and have since overcome.

Jump roping.

Kids usually learn it when they are in kindergarten. You tried and failed at that time. The other kids and adults called you clumsy.

You felt discouraged. 

You stopped trying to jump rope that year. And the next year.

Then, one adult believed in you: your second-grade teacher.

She threw you in with the kindergartners as they learned how to jump rope and encouraged you as you tried to learn.

You towered over the other kids in your second-grade class, let alone the kindergartners. You felt awkward.

The kindergarteners and their teacher cheered you on as you jumped and tripped over the rope hundreds of times.

Eventually, it all clicked. You learned how to coordinate your jumping in perfect timing with the swinging of the rope.

You were so proud of yourself, you just kept jumping and laughing happily.

Not only did you learn jump roping, you became an expert in the third and fourth grades. You joined the jump rope club with the girls and you jumped double dutch with ease. You also loved swinging the two ropes while the girls jumped in.

You were in your happy place.

Sometimes you will forget what you have overcome in your life and then remember that seemingly simple story of learning to to jump rope.

It was something the other kids took for granted, and you struggled to overcome.

And you did it!

You don’t know this, but this little life lesson – failing hundreds or even thousands of times before succeeding – will take you far in your life.

You will write the first 50,000 words of novels and then scrap them because they were ideas that failed.

You will write other prose that meanders.

You will craft rhyming poetry that does not quite flow.

You will not stop trying to write something that suits your style.

You will find your big break, one way or another. When you do, it will be a spectacular victory.

I believe in you, LG. My younger self who will never, ever quit doing what they love. You will always live inside me.

Since I was three, I’ve seen life a different way. 
Fighting a battle, undefeated to this day
Cancer took half my sight but didn’t take my vision. 
And I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the decision. 
Living this way has taught me a lot. 
You don’t need to have it all to give it all you’ve got.
Never thought that I would get this far.
From the passenger’s side to taking over the car
Used to shake in my skin; now I’m calm in the face. 
Old fears couldn’t catch me if they picked up the pace.
Thinking of my breakthrough, I’m more than amazed. 
Through Christ, I can do all things, and He will be praised.
God gave me this life because He knew I was worthy.
And I thank Him for His everlasting grace and mercy.

Dear Younger Self,

You won.  Your jabs, tricks, and schemes worked and knocked her down..again and again.  She fought a good fight and hung on to her friends no matter how bad they were.  Was it because she had low self-esteem?  A bad self-image?  All created by you projecting a melting image of herself that shone onto every event in her life?  So you could feel better?  Nobody saved her.  Nobody came to her aid.  She lay there, water rippling over her body..porcelain reflections on the now flat lukewarm surface.  The you now would like this.  The me now HATES this.  The me now needs to live with those memories and shove them away, blaming them on youth, bad parenting, and low self-worth.  But I can’t help but wonder younger self, if we could have saved her, by being kinder.  

Hand on stomach and heart,
Older self

Dear younger me….

We made it. You made it. Remember those countless nights of huddling in the corner of your bed, tears streaming down your face telling yourself it’ll be okay? I know you didn’t really believe it, but turns out everything was okay. You always believed that depression and anxiety were going to be lifelong struggles. If you’re reading this right now wondering how we made it through, here it is.
Here’s your story…..our story:

Growing up in a religious home, you always strived to follow God. But bad things still happen, even to Christians. From years of abuse and trauma, you began to suffer from severe anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts. You ended up in foster care twice, in multiple foster homes with the fear of people growing intensely. Well past your breaking point, you were hospitalized several months later after a suicide attempt. You went through different periods of self harm, driven by depression and death. As life progressed, no matter what happened or what you achieved, nothing could take the pain away. You lived in such a state of grief that there seemed no way out. But there was always a constant in your life. God. You lost your way over and over again, but He kept seeking you out. Every time you tried giving up, God pulled you from the clutches of darkness. You wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for Him. As you stumbled along the way, He called you to move several states away to a church you had only visited a few times. With anxiety gripping at you, within a month you had moved over three hundred miles away. That simple step of obedience revolutionized your life. As you surrendered your life to Him, there was a breaking as you were completely submerged in the waves of His Grace. Immediately chains of darkness began breaking off of you. The depression, anxiety, fear, suicidal thoughts. Broken off of you and God restored you to Himself. You were baptized for the first time since coming a Christian and then baptized in the Holy Spirit and receiving the gift of tongues! Several months later you had ministry time that brought freedom and a repentance to demonic strongholds in your life. Today you are on a praise team, finished your schooling and currently headed for college! You’re studying special education, music, and multimedia communications. The only reason you’re alive today is because of God. Every life changing moment, every new freedom, every breath you take is because of His loving mercy. Oh how He loves you! So guess what, hun? You made it! This is your story. This is your testimony. You’d be so proud of yourself! But while you’re going through life, read this letter and know that it really will be okay.

You got this!
Signed, Older You

Younger Me,
I know you’re feeling overwhelmed, lost in the maze of questions and emotions that come with being adopted. The weight of not knowing your biological parents sits heavy on your heart, and the world seems to demand that you embrace your adopted parents with a love that feels forced and foreign.
But let me tell you something profound: the love and acceptance that you seek will find you in the most unexpected ways. We grew through this. We found our way through the labyrinth of confusion and pain, and emerged stronger, with a heart that understands the true essence of family.

The stigma of our origins and the emptiness of not knowing our birth parents were shadows that haunted our early years. We faced the judgment and the whispers, the sense of being different. But in the process, we discovered that our story was not one of lack, but of abundance. We learned to love our adopted parents, not because we were forced to, but because we saw their humanity, their efforts, and their genuine care for us.

It’s okay to feel conflicted, to question, to grapple with the mixed emotions. These feelings are valid, and they shape you into a compassionate, understanding person who knows that family goes beyond bloodlines. It’s built on trust, kindness, and shared experiences.

In time, you’ll see that the love you give and receive is real, not because it’s expected, but because it grows from the seeds of understanding and acceptance. Our adopted parents might not be perfect, but neither are we. And in that imperfection, we find room for forgiveness, for growth, for genuine connection.
So, hold on. Embrace your journey, with all its complexities. The love you feel might not come in the way you expected, but it will be real, and it will be yours.

Be kind and gentle to yourself and do all things with love,
Older Me

Socially awkward.

I was born from complacent duty
And an alcoholic dependency
Forced out the womb with forceps

Without parental or medical foresight
On how it would affect me. It motivated me
To see limitations as my enemy.

The kin to me would be unknown
Because I was born to this world
But not of it. A singularity.

Only defined by self.
Made in the image of self.
Self made.
Purposed by the most High.

Most of the time… high on hopes
Doped up on fantasy, to escape
An abusive reality… but the stench
Of misery’s scent was stuck to me
Once upon a time

Toxic ties that tethered
Me to despair
I didn’t care to stay there

So I gave myself to prayer
To let my Maker bare the burden
Once I did that I became aware
Of the joy that life offers

I know who I am
Very soon so will you too
With all my love

Dear Unsealers,

There’s a moment in life when things change, not just on the outside but deep within. For me, that moment wasn’t a big, dramatic event—it was more like a whisper, one that slowly grew louder until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I spent a lot of time trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, thinking that if I checked all the boxes, I’d finally be happy. I wanted to protect everyone, be the best mom, wife, and person I could be, and still somehow find time for myself. But something was missing. I was disconnected from myself, from the love I wanted to feel and share.

The turning point came when I realized that the love I was searching for wasn’t out there—it was already within me. I had to learn to love myself first, to stop depending on others for validation, and to connect with my own heart and soul. It wasn’t easy, but that moment—realizing that I am enough just as I am—changed everything. I stopped chasing perfection and started living with intention. I learned that real power comes from within, and when we embrace who we truly are, we not only heal ourselves but also the people around us.

Now, every day, I try to live with that understanding: that love, kindness, and compassion are choices we make, starting with how we treat ourselves. That’s my turning point—when I realized that in order to give to others, I had to first find peace within myself.

With Love & Light,

Dear Young Allison,
I wish that I could reach back in time, wrap my arms around you, and tell you that what you’re facing doesn’t define you. I know you’re carrying so much weight – both physically and emotionally – and a lot of it comes from the words of someone you love. Maw-Maw’s comments, sharp and painful, dig deep don’t they? It feels like every meal is watched, every outfit is scrutinized, and every part of you is seen through a lens of judgement. I want you to know something important: that shame is not yours to carry.

You are not the problem, your body is not a problem, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation or an apology for how you look. You’re more than a number on a scale or the size of your clothes. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but those criticisms are not about you; they’re a reflection of Maw-Maw’s own struggles, insecurities, and maybe even the world she grew up in. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, does it? You deserve to hear words of love and kindness, and I’m here to tell you those words now.

You are strong. Not just in the way your body carries you, but in how you carry yourself through the endless comments, the side glances, and the unsolicited advice. That strength will become your superpower. One day, you will realize that the things you’ve been told are flaws are actually what make you resilient, fierce, and beautiful.

There will be a moment-many moments, really-when you look at yourself and feel pride. Your body will transform, not because you finally fit someone else’s standard, but because you’ll build it into what makes you feel powerful. Every step you take, every choice you make for your own health and happiness, will feel like reclaiming parts of yourself that were never lost, only hidden under layers of doubt planted by others.

You’ll learn that beauty is not something anyone else can define for you. It’s in the way you move, the way you love, the way you laugh. And one day, you’ll see yourself as I do now: strong, capable, beautiful, inside and out. Maw-Maw’s voice will fade, replaced by your own, full of love and confidence.

Until then, be kind to yourself. You’re already so much more than anyone ever gave you credit for, and I’m so proud of the women you’ll become.

With all my love and strength,
Grown, beautiful, stronger and older Allison

The day approaches near, and I feel an empty space.
My thoughts are so depressing, every turn I see your face.

Our mother’s scream still lingers, through my ears and in my head.
As her words slice through the air, “Oh God Crissy Kate is dead”.

Yes, I thought she’d lost it. But I came to realize.
That she wasn’t nuts at all, I soon saw with my own eyes.

Your body lay half on the bed and I turn to take a look.
As I flipped your body over, my entire soul was shook.

Blood oozed out from your nose, your mouth frozen slight ajar.
Your eyes were rolled inside your head. How did it get this far?

You were cold and you were stiff. You were charcoal, purple, blue.
Your entire body swollen, you just didn’t look like you.

Our mother screaming “Make her breathe”, continually she would yelp.
“Oh Crissy you have to save her”. “Oh Crissy you have to help”.

I tried desperately to revive you. Though I knew it was too late.
Dear God I want my sister. Why the hell are you taking Kate?

There was no pulse or movement, as I compressed repeatedly.
My mouth upon your discolored mouth, the only breathing was from me.

Our mother asking, “is she alive”? “Crissy is she breathing yet?
You were so cold and dark, beneath my hands, I can’t forget.

I failed to make it happen. No matter how tirelessly I had tried.
I failed to make you breathe again, beyond the door, our mother cried.

At some point my movements stopped and I took this final sight.
As my sadness and the anger, just consumed me in my plight.

You were gone and I had to tell her. “Mom, I’m sorry she is dead”.
Her scream of horror ringing on, her heart breaking with what I said.

She looked up to my eyes, and said “Oh Crissy that can’t be, tell me no”.
If I could have traded my life right then, but I held her, as we let you go.

If only I could have saved you. If only there had been some way.
If only I could have filled our Mom’s request, then you’d be here today.

Instead we watched them take you. A black body bag across the floor.
Your body dead within it, as they dragged you out the door.

As if you weren’t a person, pulling you like a fleshy inhuman blotter.
Their callousness invokes me, so I scream “that’s my sister and her daughter”.

As they thumped you down the stairs, stunned, they stop to stare at me.
They look upon the body bag, and finally they begin to see.

From the ground they gently pick you up and they move you to the Hurst .
My misery all consuming, I know my rage is about to burst.

But I have to be the strong one and I have to move along.
To be there for our loving mother, to be the rock to keep her strong.

I will not ever forget that day, because a big part of me died with you.
Regardless of the years since then, this isn’t something I can get through.

I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it sometimes the memories just make me crack.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one, to save you and bring you back.

I miss you and I love you and I am so sorry this was your fait.
The good of you and that horrid day will always live inside me, my sister, Kate.
My Sister Kate
The day approaches near, and I feel an empty space.
My thoughts are so depressing, every turn I see your face.

Our mother’s scream still lingers, through my ears and in my head.
As her words slice through the air, “Oh God Crissy Kate is dead”.

Yes, I thought she’d lost it. But I came to realize.
That she wasn’t nuts at all, I soon saw with my own eyes.

Your body lay half on the bed and I turn to take a look.
As I flipped your body over, my entire soul was shook.

Blood oozed out from your nose, your mouth frozen slight ajar.
Your eyes were rolled inside your head. How did it get this far?

You were cold and you were stiff. You were charcoal, purple, blue.
Your entire body swollen, you just didn’t look like you.

Our mother screaming “Make her breathe”, continually she would yelp.
“Oh Crissy you have to save her”. “Oh Crissy you have to help”.

I tried desperately to revive you. Though I knew it was too late.
Dear God I want my sister. Why the hell are you taking Kate?

There was no pulse or movement, as I compressed repeatedly.
My mouth upon your discolored mouth, the only breathing was from me.

Our mother asking, “is she alive”? “Crissy is she breathing yet?
You were so cold and dark, beneath my hands, I can’t forget.

I failed to make it happen. No matter how tirelessly I had tried.
I failed to make you breathe again, beyond the door, our mother cried.

At some point my movements stopped and I took this final sight.
As my sadness and the anger, just consumed me in my plight.

You were gone and I had to tell her. “Mom, I’m sorry she is dead”.
Her scream of horror ringing on, her heart breaking with what I said.

She looked up to my eyes, and said “Oh Crissy that can’t be, tell me no”.
If I could have traded my life right then, but I held her, as we let you go.

If only I could have saved you. If only there had been some way.
If only I could have filled our Mom’s request, then you’d be here today.

Instead we watched them take you. A black body bag across the floor.
Your body dead within it, as they dragged you out the door.

As if you weren’t a person, pulling you like a fleshy inhuman blotter.
Their callousness invokes me, so I scream “that’s my sister and her daughter”.

As they thumped you down the stairs, stunned, they stop to stare at me.
They look upon the body bag, and finally they begin to see.

From the ground they gently pick you up and they move you to the Hurst .
My misery all consuming, I know my rage is about to burst.

But I have to be the strong one and I have to move along.
To be there for our loving mother, to be the rock to keep her strong.

I will not ever forget that day, because a big part of me died with you.
Regardless of the years since then, this isn’t something I can get through.

I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it sometimes the memories just make me crack.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one, to save you and bring you back.

I miss you and I love you and I am so sorry this was your fait.
The good of you and that horrid day will always live inside me, my sister, Kate.