Dear Unsealers,

I wasn’t initially planning to participate in this prompt because I haven’t felt that my life has blossomed in any significant way.

You see, I’m twenty-eight, and I don’t drive, work, or have children. I often face judgment for that, but I remind myself that my path is just different from most people’s. Recently, I started reflecting on my life outside the conventional goals I haven’t achieved, and I realized that I have blossomed immensely over the past year alone. Approximately five years ago, I withdrew from life. I stopped going out, dressing the way I liked, and doing the things I enjoyed. I felt like nothing more than a shell of a person—a complete stranger to me. Anxiety had taken hold of me, and at one point, I was okay with that. But then I wasn’t okay anymore.

A year ago, I felt a renewed desire to live, which terrified me. By that time, I couldn’t even sit on my porch without having a major panic attack. Whenever I heard a car or saw someone walking by, I would run back inside. My embarrassment and confusion were overwhelming. How could a girl who once independently explored a foreign country be so afraid of sitting on her porch? When I was avoiding going out, I would still make it to the doctor’s office. I thought to myself, “If I can be out for an hour at the doctor’s, I can be out for an hour doing whatever activity I need to do.” That realization became a turning point for me.

I also started therapy, where my therapist introduced me to various exercises to help manage my panic, many of which I still use today. At first, I could only visit familiar places like stores and my parents’ house. I was improving and getting out more, which felt great, but I eventually hit another plateau. Although I was comfortable in my routine, I still panicked at the thought of going somewhere new or further than I was used to.

In September 2024, my favorite artist, Bob Dylan, was performing less than two hours away on my birthday weekend. I had never wanted to do anything so badly. Given my recent improvements, I thought I could go, but I panicked instead and didn’t push myself. I regretted not going and beat myself up about it. I resolved to keep working on my progress and take baby steps, hoping that if he performed again, I would be ready.

By February 2025, I was getting out more and had even traveled an hour away without experiencing a major panic attack. I was attending all family events and feeling so much better that I could take my first-weekend vacation in over a decade with my sister! I had an absolute blast until bedtime, when the panic set in. I cried, felt sick, and wanted to find a way home. My husband was ready to drive two hours to pick me up, but I worked through it. Eventually, I fell asleep and could enjoy the last day of my trip. Although I was upset that I couldn’t fully handle a night away yet, I reflected on how far I had come since my starting point and realized it was okay to experience setbacks. With the support of my family, I got through it.

I am still blossoming, but I’ve made incredible progress this past year. I’m enjoying the little things that used to make me happy, learning new hobbies, going on small adventures, and dressing for myself again. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see a stranger or a shell of a person. The best news? I’m finally going to see my favorite artist, Bob Dylan, perform this September! I admit I’m anxious, but I know I can do this, and it will be an experience I’ll never forget.

I’m twenty-eight years old; I thought I was supposed to have everything in my life figured out, but I don’t. I am still growing, and there’s nothing wrong with going at my pace.

Style score 90

Oh, how I love to daydream

Because you sleep when the sun is out

That’s the only way to see you

Until the bright beams have gone down

But

When you wake

What a sight for the stars in the evening sky

You captivate me with your beauty

I have confessed my deepest fears to you

So serene and complex

There is no doubt

My exquisite moon

In every phase of your life

I adore you

How do I write a letter to my fear when I fear everything? I’m not sure when I became this way. I used to be so untamed, but now I’m scared of living life. I miss the person I was—the fearless one, except for when it came to roller coasters and snakes. How can I find her again? She seems so far away now, but I remember her clearly. She didn’t just stare out the window dreaming of a bigger world; she lived it. When she encountered something new, she didn’t panic; she embraced it. She turned the unknown into something familiar, living a story she loved to tell. An old friend once asked me how New York was. The truth is, I never made it there. My mind doesn’t play fair. I dream too big for my brain to handle, and instead of confronting the fear, I’ve always backpedaled.

Thank you for not giving up when everything was trying to tear you down
You fight unspoken battles every day
I’m so proud of you for not letting it become your new face
You are still finding your place

Thank you for searching for the smallest glimmer of hope to keep yourself around
You have learned to love what is often overlooked
Doing everything you can to find a more positive outlook

Thank you for being the light in others’ lives when you often struggle to be a spark in your own
You thrive when creating their sunshine
You’ll find yours in time

Thank you for focusing on your inner peace when it would be much easier to let your demons roam
How uncomplicated would it be to give in to the chaos
Let your soul turn to stone as your golden heart is squashed
But that wouldn’t be you
You are the gentle sound of an old record being played on a Sunday afternoon
Brightening someone’s day in such a simple way

I’m grateful that you’ve never let your warm heart turn cold
No matter what challenges unfold
In the darkest of skies, you are the moon
Always giving away your light hoping to help anyone who is feeling gloom