Dear Unsealed Community,

When I was 19 years old, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to chase my dream as a sportscaster. In pursuit of that dream,  I started working at the NBA. I commuted two hours from Columbia University to New Jersey, three days a week, because I was committed. I wanted to network with people who worked in sports. I wanted to hone my writing skills and learn more about the broadcasting industry. This job was supposed to be the first step to the rest of my life. But it nearly took me off course, and everyone, except me, thought I should be thrilled.

While working at the NBA, I met someone. He was my co-worker. We had the same schedule – or so I thought. I found out later that he was coming to work when he wasn’t scheduled to spend more time with me. We got along so well. We could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything. Soon after meeting, we started dating, and our relationship escalated quickly. Within a year, he left the NBA and began working in finance. We moved in together in an apartment in New York City and got engaged. I was only 21 years old – still a senior in college. He treated me well. We had no drama – no lying, no cheating, no bullshit—just two young people who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He checked every box.

My parents were happy. My friends thought I was so lucky. And in society’s eyes, my life was going very well.

The only problem was that I was miserable. I was not ready to be someone’s wife. I didn’t want to sacrifice opportunities for my career for a relationship. My ring felt like a handcuff, chaining me to a life I didn’t yet want.

I stayed in the relationship for four years because, logically, we made sense. According to society, this relationship is what I should want. But I was so unhappy which led me to question myself more times than I could count.

“Why don’t I want this relationship?”

“How come I am not on cloud nine?”

“Isn’t this is what I should want?”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Ultimately, it took every ounce of strength I had to end the relationship. It was one the most difficult decisions I have ever made, as I had to hurt someone I loved – someone who never would have hurt me.

However, I knew, long term, it wasn’t fair to either one of us if I stayed in a relationship that I didn’t genuinely want. In the days, weeks and months following our breakup, I felt a sense of relief and freedom. I pursued my career, moved out of New York, and I have since chased every single dream or goal I’ve ever had.

To this day, people still think I was crazy to end the relationship – especially since I am now 36 and single. But I have never had any regrets.

Looking back, I learned that sometimes we doubt ourselves when our desires differ from the expectations the world sets for us. But deep down, each of us know what we want, and all we need is the courage to pursue it relentlessly.

Be who you are – not who others expect you to be.

Dear Mom,

You once told me that you don’t worry about me because you know no matter what, I will always be OK. You said to me that throughout my life, whatever challenges I faced, I somehow always managed to persevere. You told me you know me better than anyone else. After all, you’re not only my mother but also my best friend.

You know everything about me.

Mom, through all my life’s challenges, you have been by my side.

When my fourth-grade crush pretended to throw up when he found out I liked him, you told me, “Don’t worry, you’re beautiful, and there will be plenty of boys that will like you.”

When my first love broke my heart, “You told me to let it go – not to give him the power to make me sad or ruin my day.

When I did poorly on a test in school, you would spend hours studying with me.

When my boyfriend died, “You cried with me at the funeral.”

When I started The Unsealed, “You told me to go for it.”

And each day, when I share my fears and worries as an entrepreneur, you tell me to keep going. You tell me you believe in me. You give me ideas, and you help me to keep pushing.

Mom, you have seen me bounce back from a broken heart, disappointment in my career, and loss. And while, yes, I have always been OK, I believe it is because I have always had you.

I love you so much. Your support, love, and constant presence are the secret to my strength.

Thank you,

To The Unsealed Community,

When I graduated high school, I honestly didn’t know what to expect from myself.

After getting waitlisted, I got accepted to Columbia in mid-June of my senior year of high school. At the time, Columbia ranked top five in the nation. And while I was thrilled to be accepted, there was a part of me that was unsure if I was worthy of the admission.

I told my family I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t smart enough to go, and I was considering going elsewhere.

My brother, who had just graduated from Columbia, responded, “If you don’t take this opportunity, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I promise you will be able to do the work.”

I trusted my brother and decided to attend, even though I was scared and uncertain if I would measure up to my peers.

My first year at Columbia was by far the hardest. My grades depended on papers, and I wasn’t the best writer. Not to mention, we had to take many required classes – some of which I found pretty boring. But I muscled through it, and I was determined to thrive.

Thankfully, Columbia had a writing center where tutors looked through your paper sentence by sentence and provided feedback. I spent hours each week at the writing center, and after a year or so, my writing significantly improved. So much so that in the last two years of college, I received an A on every single paper I submitted.

It’s hard to believe that I almost passed down an incredible opportunity because I didn’t believe in myself.

Now, whatever challenge I face in life, I still don’t know what to expect from myself. But my experience at Columbia taught me that if I push myself and work hard, I should always expect to surprise myself.

We are all capable of way more than we even know.

Always believe in your greatness,

To The Unsealed Community,

When I was ten years old, I was in love.

I grew up in the 1990s, and like most other girls in my generation, I thought Jonathan Taylor Thomas, aka JTT, was my future husband. He played Randy on Tim Allen’s Home Improvement. I had posters of him in my room, and I listened to love songs imagining the two of us on long walks in the park.

Ahead of my eleventh birthday, my father asked what I wanted as a gift.

I told my Dad, “I would like to meet JTT.”

My Dad chuckled and said, “What’s your second choice?”

I said, “Dad, there is no second choice. That is what I want.”

He told me he didn’t have that kind of power. So, I said fine and told him I would figure it out myself.

Later that week, I went on the internet and started searching. I knew there had to be a way to meet my crush. It wasn’t long before I stumbled across a charity event for Audrey Hepburn’s charity for children. The event hosted movie premiers, fashion shows, and after-parties with child stars in New York City, forty minutes away from my home. The list of child actors had to be one hundred deep: Mara Wilson, Michelle Trachtenberg, Rider Strong, Devon Sawa, and, sure enough, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Tickets for events were cheap – $10 -$40 per event, per person. So, for my birthday, my mother and I got a hotel room in the city, and I attended JTT’s premiere of the movie Wild America. I manipulated my way to the front of the crowd and befriended JTT’s security, who arrived at the theater a half hour before JTT did. As luck would have it, like every other man in the world, the security guard had a crush on my mother. I ended up in the elevator with JTT and got a picture and a kiss on the cheek. And then, he sat right behind me in the theater. I swear there were moments when he leaned forward, and I could feel him breathing on my neck. The next day at the fashion show, the security guard snuck us backstage. I met nearly every star there, and my 11-year-old self was in heaven.

One of the qualities I love most about myself is I go after what I want. I don’t take no for an answer. I believe I was born with this relentless and determined spirit.

Whether it was meeting JTT at eleven years old, becoming a sportscaster in my 20s, or starting a business in my 30’s, I have never taken “No” for an answer. No has always just meant, “Find another way.”

Through the years, the stakes have increased, and the challenges are sometimes even more unrealistic. But without looking back, I have continued after whatever I have wanted in life.

Even if some days are hard, I live life with no regrets, no what ifs or would have, could have, should haves.

And while I may not have married JTT, like I once planned. Going after him, along with all the other things I love in life, has made me love myself and all that I am even more.

To The Unsealed Community,

Typically, I am not someone who visibly shows the world how I feel. Whether it was a big loss in sports as a teenager or in fourth grade when a boy pretended to throw up when he found out I liked him, I have often, without even trying, kept a poker face.

But how I look doesn’t always reflect how I feel.

During my first year of college, I was having the time of my life: a new school, a new romance, a new city, and lots of new friends.

I looked like a happy, typical college student exploring an exciting new world. And in many ways, I was just that. However, amid this incredible adventure and privilege, there were moments I was overwhelmed and nearly debilitated by fear.

When the sun went down, I was terrified to walk on campus alone. It was only a year and a half since I had been drugged and sexually assaulted by two strangers. I felt so vulnerable that someone could hurt me again at any moment. Whether walking back from dinner, a party, or my boyfriend’s dorm, whenever I was by myself at night, my heart would race, and I would feel this aching pit in my stomach.

Sometimes, when I made it safely, I would go to a bathroom stall or somewhere private and let out a few tears, just as a sigh of relief. Walking at night on what was a beautiful and, statistically speaking, safe campus was a horrible, unsettling feeling – one that I had no idea if it would ever go away.

There are many ways I could have responded. I could have gone home – quit school, and simply remained in the confines of my parents’ home. I could have stopped going out and stayed in my room after dark. I could have withdrawn entirely and hidden from all my fears.

But I didn’t. Instead, my 17-year-old self, consciously or subconsciously, chose to be brave.

I dared to ask for what I needed and took advantage of those offering to help. I told my boyfriend I was scared and asked him to walk me home from parties or back to my dorm room. If he wasn’t available, there were five other 6’5 football players who told me to call or text whenever I needed someone to walk me home.

I had the courage to keep showing up, to keep walking, and to ask for what I needed, knowing deep down I didn’t want this fear to hold me back. No matter how often my heart raced or I got that pain in my stomach, I kept going out. I kept meeting friends, and  attending parties and clubs. Daily, I left my comfort zone, which allowed me to fully enjoy the college experience.

While I still don’t love walking alone at night, my anxiety doesn’t reach the level it once did. And because I didn’t let my fear stop me then, I certainly won’t let my fear stop me now.

Dear Mom and Dad,

When I was a child, we went on trips to Disney World, Aruba, California, and Vermont. We went to zoos and parks and all sorts of places. I played soccer worldwide, as we traveled as far as Italy to compete. While each of those memories is special, one of my favorite memories growing up is a bit simpler.

Every day from first grade until my senior year, one of you drove me to school – sometimes a half hour away. I played soccer for teams all over the state, and you drove me to practice and games several times a week. In addition, you also took me to girl scouts, Hebrew school, tennis lessons, dance, acting classes, and who knows what else. With all these activities, it was often just one of you in the car and me. If it were dad and me, we’d often talk about soccer or school. Dad, you’d pump me up and build my confidence. It was in those car rides you told me I could do anything I wanted in life.

Mom, if I were in the car with you, we’d blast music like NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys and talk about life. On one of those car rides, while cruising down the New York State Thruway, we decided the song “This is My Promise to You” by NSYNC would be OUR song.

Those car rides are some of my most cherished memories from my childhood. It was moments I had your full attention – while me and the road, of course. I could talk to you about anything, and we weren’t distracted by other people or the noise of the rest of the world. It was just us. The attention made me feel loved and important. In those car rides, I found a safe space to share my fears and doubts and tell you about whatever was on my mind. Dad told me stories that included life lessons, while mom always was positive and reassuring.

It was in those car rides I learned to believe in myself.

While sometimes, we as human beings try to create great memories – planning big trips or throwing huge parties – for me, the best memories have always been the ones we didn’t even realize we were creating.

I Love you both.

P.S. I owe you some gas money

@writerjordanohalloran @oneturbobenz @algonzalez @jordanwalker @jordynjacobson @ciarapray @emdissocool @lulli101 @elizalila123 @dburtz @janetbanks @janettesegura @japarker1962
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To The Unsealed Community ,

I usually say my childhood dream was to be a sportscaster, and while that’s true, it was only part of the dream. The vision, the goal, has always been much bigger.

Since I was a little- four or five years old, I would tell my parents, “One day, I am going to change the world.”

It’s cheesy and cliche, I know. But it’s also true. I had so much ambition. At eight years old, I would stay up all night worrying and thinking about my career.

When I would tell my mom, she would respond, “What career? You’re eight!”

She totally didn’t get it, and both my parents did what they could to try and convince me to take some pressure off myself, which I never did.

I have no idea where this desire to succeed on a monumental scale came from, but it’s always been there for as long as I can remember. The drive. The hunger. The desire. And, unfortunately, the constant worrying about how or if I could make this happen.

While I have checked off a few boxes regarding my goals, including attending an ivy league college and becoming a sportscaster, there is still so much more I want to do. And I certainly thought by my 30’s, I’d have this whole changing-the-world career path all figured out. While I have made progress, I am still trying to piece it all together.

In pursuit of my goal, I started The Unsealed, a platform for people to share their truth in the form of open letters. Through these letters, I hope to amplify voices and inspire people around the globe but I have made so many mistakes. Every day, I am still learning about entrepreneurship, marketing, and online communities.

Every second I am scared. I’m afraid I won’t figure this out. I am scared I will make a wrong decision, making what feels like this Jinga tower I am building come crashing down. I know that applying for a job with a designated set of tasks, “normal” hours, and a consistent paycheck would be much easier. But that’s not my dream.

So,I keep pushing and do my best to lean away from my fears and into my confidence. And with each challenge that arises (and there are many), I draw motivation from several different places.

Many of you have shared with me that The Unsealed has changed your life. It’s made some of you feel seen. It’s made some of you feel heard. It’s influenced at least one of you not to take your own life. On the days I am tired, and in the moments I am scared, I think of all of you.

Then, there are my parents. They have poured their time, their heart, their soul, and their money into my dream and my happiness without ever asking me for so much as a penny in return. They read all of our stories. They come to every single zoom. They share all of my posts. My mom has spent hours helping me email schools and writing programs. I so desperately want my parents to see my company take over the world because I know their wishes are for mine to come true. On the days I am tired, and in the moments I am scared, I think of my parents.

Lastly, I have worked so hard. I have sacrificed relationships, time with my friends, the opportunity to make more money faster, and who knows what else to pursue this crazy dream. I want this. I work every day – seven days a week, often typing away until I fall asleep fully dressed with my computer by my side. I love what I do. I love my mission. I love what we have already accomplished and what I hope my company will one day achieve. I owe it to myself to keep going – to not give up on the days I am tired, and in the moments I am scared.

Dreams don’t come true quickly or easily for most people. And that’s why for most people, their dreams will always be just a dream. But every day, I am glad that I haven’t given up on you, my parents, or myself because even if I don’t change the whole damn world, my work, my heart, my passion, and my resilience is already changing many lives, including mine.

Thanks for being here on this scary but beautiful journey. This is just the beginning.

With love, hope, and faith,