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leebothegood submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoGod still working
Leroy lbraggSo my place that changed my life forever is the airport, I met a lady online and we became friends, and we talked for at least 4 to 8 hours a day or until the phones would disconnect, and after sending letters and pictures ( she made me guess which one she was ( I was able to) we had it planned for August 8th, I was going to pick her up from the airport after all she was coming from South Dakota and I was in South Carolina, I had told my boss about her and her panicked saying BE CAREFUL ( I DIDN’T care there was something about this Amazing young lady and I was LOOKING FORWARD to finally meeting her) The day came and I was Early and she flew in to the Gsp airport and was 10 minutes early, I told her to get back on the plane.When we met , WOW, and Time stood still, That moment August 8th, my life changed FOREVER, we have been married for 20 years together for 22 and Still going Strong.Im thankful she didn’t get back on the plane (: she may not have gotten off) She wouldn’t fly back home, Cause this is Where our story starts.My wife, my best friend, it all started with love at the Gsp
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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jhustyn submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoTo the Pink Tree
JhustynHow do you stay there?
In a city that doesn’t exist anymore.
Drowned under bike lanes and condos
Do you know people struggle
to pinpoint my accent now
they ask “Where are you from?”
– New Orleans?
– One of the Carolina’s?
– Chicago?
I would joke and say “no, Atlantis”
Because my city was flooded
By faces who turn red in the winter
Reminding me of you,
A Cherry blossom,
That would bloom,
Every springDo you remember how it started?
For us, it was a knock on the door.
Answered by my father,
On the other side, A man
Who’s hair barely clung to his scalp
They had A conversation
That started with “good morning”
Included A “thank you”
A “you’re welcome”
An envelope,
A deed,
A polite smile
And ended with a closed door
My father turned And said
“we had to leave.”I thought of the homeless men
The ones who would blend
into the walls outside of gas stations.
And carried a chime of “hey, heys!”
As we walked in. It was common to see them
And ignored their asks of “something’s”
their voices sounded more like compliments
Saying “you’re doing better than me
And you have what I need”Is that what we looked like to them?
Sounded like to them?
our new white neighbors
The ones who forced us to leave
Were we now the Beggars saying
“we belong here”
“It’s our city”
And what would that make you?
A tree,
still standing
Still growing
under a no loitering sign
That was only meant for meYou stayed,
Roots dug in the dirt deep
To a city that would throw away people
Before flowers,
Uproot the blacks
Leave the treesIs that why we left?
So easily
Without a fight
Packed up our whole apartment
Our life and pride in boxes
And left empty
In the nightI grew up in a city
That built a country
That was stolen
And stolen again
And no one talks about itEven now,
when I say the name,
People tell me how much they love it there,
And it hurts to hear.
Makes my tongue swell in my mouth
Pressed against the roof of a house,
We don’t own.
Pushing my teeth like doors or windows,
Begging to be let out or in.
Clintching my jaw like locked keys
Holding in all the things I want to say
And swallowing them down
to the bottom of my throat
a basement
Now stored with questions
That I can only ask youDear Pink Tree,
Do you remember our city?
The taste of mambo sauce
dripping off chicken at grandmothers house?
Or the sound of the live band music
forcing you to beat your feet
against the concrete?
Or the sight of fishing boats that would dock
And sell their blue crab cheaply?Of course you don’t remember
You were one of the beautiful things they kept,
The rest of the city drowned
Under bike lanes and condos
Flooded in the sounds of
Smiling “Good mornings”
Instead of empty “hey heys!”
A city filled with grateful “thank you’s”
And happy “you’re welcomes”That welcomed a tree,
But not me.
I wish you luck with your new neighbors
Keep blooming for them every spring
So you won’t be uprooted in the endSincerely,
An old friendVoting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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stacylynne submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoDear Christiana Hospital's 6th Floor, Bed 3/Dear Occupant/Dear Amy
SibsWell, here we are.
If I were to have a calendar in front of me, I would mark this time as one of two most dreaded days.
I remember some things so vividly, while more important things have somehow slipped away. I can’t remember your voice. 19 years.
I still carry around my emotional baggage, which holds my guilt, my fears, and my sorrow. We had so many good times…bad times too, of course, but I remember really only the good times.
So many stories, secrets, hopes and dreams, dashed away so quickly. I should have acted. I should have made time to go to the doctor with you. I should have demanded you be seen. The promise I made to you in the hospital room, as I hovered near your ear and played with your hair is still one that I hold to; though it has started fights and maybe handicapped him a bit, I continue to protect your son.
Oh, Amy, when he sings, and he thinks no one is listening, it is reminiscent of you. Not recording your voice is such a regret, but who could have known things would go so bad, so quickly.
I remember stupid things about the actual day, like the weather. On the day of your passing, it was beautiful. While friends stood next to you saying goodbye and weeping, I went and sat alone by the window. The sky had not one cloud in it. Your arrival in heaven was inviting. The day of your service, however, was cold…so cold, and rainy and gray. It seemed to match the occasion perfectly.
I miss you. Those words aren’t nearly as strong as the emotion behind them. I’m stuck in grief. I think of you and cry almost every day. I still want to pick up the phone to share some movie you’d like, or a random, “Do you remember when…”. Is there a phone in heaven?
In that hospital room, I whispered my promises in your ear. Did you hear them?
I am so proud being your sister. I pledge to make you that proud of me. And heaven better ready when my time comes…I desperately await our reunion.
I love you, my sister,
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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mysticmaker submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoTo the Place That Became Sanctuary
Eternally Changed & BlessedDear Rehab,
When I met you, I wasn’t myself.
I came to you from the floor below,
still trembling —
from withdrawal, sleep-starved delusions,
or some bitter cocktail of both.
A fog so thick
I couldn’t tell the walls
from the weight pressing on my chest.You were sterile and white,
like the hollow shell of a second chance.
I hated you.
I feared you.
And yet —
something in me stayed.The first night, I tried to run.
My mind rebelled,
dragging my body with it,
until I landed alone
in a room meant for two.Blanket draped like a shawl.
I wrapped myself in whatever warmth I could find.
That blanket became my armor.My journal—my confessional.
Your little track—my ritual.
Forty-eight laps a day, chasing pieces of myself in circles.
Hoping they’d fit back together.I hardly spoke at first.
But group cracked me wide open.
Especially when someone new arrived —
loud with rage or quiet with sorrow.
I recognized them.
We all did.
And it broke me.
Then, slowly, it rebuilt me.I learned how to create again.
Beaded jewelry with trembling hands.
Scribbled thoughts like soft confessions.
Songs that clung to me like sunlight.
I wrote in my journal like it was scripture.
Your walls didn’t flinch
when I colored outside the lines.You never asked me to be perfect.
Only honest.
Only present.And in that presence,
I became someone new.When I left you,
I felt like a child again —
fragile, raw, but holding something rare:
hope.I didn’t want you.
I didn’t think I needed you.
But sometimes the most sacred places
are the ones we fight hardest to accept.And now, when the world grows quiet,
I still hear you —
not your silence,
but the voices of every soul I met within you.Their pain.
Their healing.
Their stories,
stitched into mine.If I ever return,
let it be with open hands —
to offer what I once came seeking.With Reverence,
(ProWritingAid Style Score 100%)
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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straudt submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoHome away from home
Samantha TraudtStars and Stripes Gymnastics Academy,
You gave me a home outside of home. Somewhere I could release my anger and frustrations through power and strength. You taught me discipline and how great the reward can be when you stick to something and commit. Through you, I learned how to listen to what my body is asking for while also pushing the limits of what I think I can do with it. Because of you, I pushed through pain, building resilience against things that hurt me. You taught me that my mind is more powerful than anything else and that the mind controls the body. I learned just how incredible and strong my body can be when I don’t let my mind get in the way. I found friends, laughter, memories, and a place to release my inner child and my inner fire. You gave me a place to be myself.
You also instilled an expectation of perfection in me that has been hard to break. You put me in a position to be judged for years, a feeling that bled through my body as it changed. A mindset that being perfect was always the goal, and while a part of that was true when I spent time with you, I carried it within me outside of you.
After leaving you, I spent years wondering if I was good enough. How can I be a perfect ten? Can I attain the perfection I trained for as an adolescent? How do I stop trying to be so perfect? I stretched, strengthened, conditioned, cried, flipped, fell, bent, broke, and quit while spending time with you. I could say that you shaped me into who I am today. You fed something within me, and I will always love and appreciate you for that, but you also broke me. I don’t blame you though, because it was a part of my journey. I know now that sometimes you break in order to come back stronger, and that is exactly what I did.
Thank you, Stars and Stripes Gymnastics Academy, for teaching me mind-body connection. I appreciate you showing me that there are no limits when fear is not around. You helped the version of me that is writing this letter recognize how important physical activity is and just how far a little discipline goes. Thank you for being a place where I could release and be free. Most importantly, thank you for sending me on a journey to true self-love and acceptance. Because of you, I can blend my dedication and drive with my recognition of rest and patience. I know that for me, the best outlet for releasing unacknowledged energy is through exercise. I know that there is no such thing as perfect, but that my love for my imperfections is exactly what makes me perfect. Saying goodbye was so hard because you helped shape me into the person I am today. You will always be a piece of me, and I love you for that.
Yours truly,
Sam
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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chloeyrudy submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoShop of Stories
Chloey RudyDear Shop of Stories,
I walk in and am hit with the strong scent of antiseptic and adrenaline. To me, though, it feels like a confessional.
I remember walking in scared that first time, not because of the pulsating needle, but I was scared of being seen. I wasn’t there to be rebellious or to ruin my body. I was there because I needed to remember something. Someone. Myself.
There weren’t many questions asked, I just got pointed to the chair and nodded like I understood. With a small buzz and a slow, careful, gentle hand, you gave me my sister’s handwriting, looped and familiar, across my right forearm. My first tattoo. A permanent reminder of her voice, even when she’s not around to say the words out loud, and we grew miles apart.
The second one came months later, in the form of my middle name, tucked beneath my collarbone. The comfort of the leather chair, the needle buzzing again, but this time I was excited. A name I used to hide, then later learned to reclaim. It was never about vanity, but something to express my newfound love of the favorite version of me. It wasn’t my name directly, but rather, images that told stories, and explained the love I had for three letters.
Then came the picture of Icarus. Not because I wanted to glorify his fall, but because I needed to honor his flight. Glorious wings spanning the back of my upper arm, reaching for something just out of frame, just off of my skin. A reminder that even if I crash, at least I tried.
The shop, the artist, everyone, they never judged the reasons I came back. Never treated the ink like trends, or believing I was stupid for wanting a certain image or specific words. I just kept getting handed the mirror and the ink, letting me rewrite the parts of me that once felt too fragile to hold.
Slowly, my arms got covered in stories, stitched in black permanence, in lines and curves, a visible roadmap of my life. Of surviving. Of growing and becoming me.
It didn’t just change how I looked. It made me remember who I was.
Sincerely,
The Girl Who Wears Her Life Story in InkVoting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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ruthliew submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoPT21946 Jalan 7
RuthDear PT21946,
Your peach colored walls and flaked paint live in my memory. So does the slick tile and the bathroom pipe. Oh, that pipe that the workers sabotaged with rocks, because the company didn’t pay their migrant contract. I don’t mind, really, I’d do that same trick. I’d like to stick it to the man too.
The day your pipe back flowed and I couldn’t quite cope, I simply shut that bathroom door. My mother-in-law however, made of sterner stuff, took care of that. I’m still sorry.
I can hear the grating noise of the front door grille as if it was just now. It’s been 18 years, and that’s a long time.
I wish for a few things that are probably still in your cubby space. I’d really love my nosey face mug collection. If you know where my clarinet is located, send it. I’ll pay the international rate.
Remember the children’s giggles, and the Humphrey Bear tv show? Do you remember the piano tunes we shared to pass the day? Do you remember the shouting and shoving? You alone listened to me cry at night. You saw the broken furniture. Maybe it is time to forget.
I miss the sun streaming through your master bedroom window, the designer kitchen with the funny cabinets, my children’s shoes lined up by the door. I’m sorry we left in a rush; the children have grown and gone. They are doing fine, yes.
I hope the neighborhood is friendly. I hope whoever cares for you now does better.
Love,
RuthStyle score 100%
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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qwertylpm submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoSetauket Harbor as a Non-Judgemental Benefactor
Maya Pena-LobelIn March,
It rests forgotten. Abandoned, neglected, alone. You
used to visit It, befriended It once, but You’d
always leave and forget. Left It asking for You
to return. But You were two on-and-off lovers, except You
didn’t even know Its name.In April,
You remember that You need to bend Your knees. It calls to You,
so this time You answer, walk to It. It listens as You
tell It Your woes. Anchor deployed.In May,
You almost forget once again, but You
return. The sun is now warm enough for You
and It to soak it up, so You and It
do so together. The Adirondack chairs have returned and You
begin to look for new life.In June,
You visit It many times. Shared salt water becomes Your
currency. It gives You wind when You
need Your thoughts blown away. You
embrace the dizzying nature of the place, with
maple leaves inducing a welcoming vertigo. You
let It speak to You when You can’t listen. You
feel It when It gives nothing for You to feel.In July,
It attracts Others, but You don’t want to share Your
friend, Your caretaker. It is the beams that hold up
a house on the hill; those wooden supports can only belong
to one home. You asked It to build them under You.
Banter and smiles for the Others, but You
wish they would drown.In August,
the sand burns Your toes and sun reddens Your
nose. Hot air begs Your lungs not to breathe.
Miniscule waves remind You that Your
ears still work. Minnows nibble on Your flesh and flies feast
on Your sweat. It’s what you need.In September,
You wonder if You can still float. You
can’t feel Your arms or legs, but It
is a beacon for limbless buoys and people alike.
Each grain of sand worth the same as a
fiddler crab, dead heron, browning stalk, or You.In October,
You visit It alone. No one else cares for Your
place. It’s Yours in rain and cold and warmth and light.
It’s Yours.In November,
a chill tries to keep You away from It, but no force can keep You
and It apart. You no longer go in Its waters, but You
sit cross legged in Its mud.In December,
cold air hurts Your lungs in the way that the heat used to. But You
still remember that You can’t live without each other, so You
Keep coming back. Ice lines the shore in a way
that no magic could produce. Fractals hold each granule of sand together.
Fractals hold You and It together.In January,
pink sunsets could be the only reason You
would come back, except the sky doesn’t know what It
means to You. Even gray days and lightless nights
provide no barrier between You and It.In February,
nothing happens. But You prepare Yourself to start anew with It.
Another cycle awaits, news months incoming. You
will walk on water in a few weeks. You will come to It
even when You don’t need it.In March,
I come back again. I have new eyes, new body, new perspective.
I know It will never be forgotten again. It gave and I took, and I
don’t need It anymore, but I want It.
And It will forever welcome Me back.Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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opwriter submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoBienvenue à Paris!
Oswald PerezDear Unsealers,
Bienvenue à Paris!
October 8th, 2012
After a long night’s journey into daylight, we’ve arrived in Paris. It’s just my sister and I with no parents for the very first time.
It still feels surreal to climb the steps of the Blanche Metro station. Metropolitan above our heads in wrought iron, the Moulin Rouge on the other side of the street. We’ve made it to our home base in Montmartre.
The winding streets going uphill. Past the Cafe 2 du Moulins, and Amelie’s portrait inside. The pink exterior of the cabaret, Au Lapin Agile, and the bronze bust of the chanteuse, Dalida.
At the top of the hill, the sacred heart of Paris. Arriving at the front doors of the imposing Basillaca de Sacre Coeur.
Even on a gray evening, one could see Paris’s skyline as far as the eye could see.
It was not the fever dream that’s been the last few months we’re actually in the City of Lights.
This moment happened with a huge measure of serendipity. Back in May, I got a phone call from Time Out New York saying that I won a round trip flight for two to Paris on XL Airways France.
I couldn’t believe it. I enter their contests every week and don’t win them. Until now.
The reality of the situation only hit me days later, after receiving a congratulatory email from the airline. And even then, I didn’t want to believe it until my feet touched down at Aeroport Charles DeGaulle.
As the days went on, where didn’t we go?!
Versailles, climbing up the Arc de Triomphe the D’Orsay, the Louvre, La Tour Eiffel. Cruising along the River Seine.
There were not so great moments too.
An allergic reaction, excessive wine consumption, and a missed train to London caused problems.
But we made it through the situations to enjoy the trip.
Thirteen years, and one more trip to Paris later, I realize how much the city held my story.
By showing for better and worse, that I can be more than the cerebral palsy allows.
I will say it every time… J’adore Paris!
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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marcusrwarner submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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poeticdiabetic submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoDear Fear
AftonDear Fear,
I hope you know this whole thing is sincere.
For the most part, I’m glad that you’re here.
Even through the times when you’ve lit up my senses and sent this overactive imagination into a manic hyper-drive trying to analyze every worst-case scenario reading in between their unseen lines. Even when you’ve caused some opportunities that were offered to you and me to slip through these fingertips because my grip was too preoccupied. Even when you’ve supplied my mind with a damaging panic that I couldn’t quite define or properly manage. Despite the times where I tried to forget everything and run, there were also times where I tried to face everything and rise. So I’m grateful that I’ve been able to find some creative angels amidst the mist of what I’ve missed with you within and right by my side.
You’ve led me to places that I would have never found if you weren’t around me. Granted, there are some situations where you came in while I was drowning in my emoceans that I wish I could replace. Yet, even then, you led me to some deeply challenging depths entangled in roots of the truth that we are all blessed. You’ve helped me preserve through the tears that tore apart my mind and chest, where there were tears which scared me from taking another step. You’ve broken the seal of how it feels to really feel real while facing situations that made it seem like life was coming to an end. You’ve done your best to protect me from regrets, mistakes, and early deaths.
So thank you, fear.
For being here.Style score of sixty four 😊
Voting is closed
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Afton, I love this line, “there were also times where I tried to face everything and rise.” Never forget the moments you fought for yourself and persevered. You are so strong and this piece is a testament to that. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
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nicoleangel submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoFear of Failure
Nicole Angel NievesFEAR
Fear, what does it mean: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat?
“He is prey to irrational fears”
There are many types of fears, however they are three types I would like to refer to:
The Three Types of Fear are as follows
Rational Fear: Rational fears occur where there is a real, imminent threat…
Primal Fear: Primal fear is defined as an innate fear that is programmed into our brains. …
Irrational Fear: Irrational fears are the ones that don’t make logical sense and can vary greatly from person to person.
Ok
They say you should not fear no man or woman/ everything and fear God, so I leave with this:
Do we respect God or have a fear of him? It is both. I respect, love and fear him all at he same time. Respect for who he is, creating of everything including me, love him because of the sacrifice he made for me, and fear his judgment if I do things that are wrong.
As a Strong independent woman, what do I fear?
Failure
Now, I have to tell you what is failure:
noun
lack of success.
“An economic policy that is doomed to failure”
Similar:
lack of success
nonsuccess
non-fulfillment
defeat
frustration
collapse
foundering
misfiring
coming to nothing
falling through
fizzling out
fiasco
debacle
catastrophe
disaster
blunder
damp squirt
flop
botch
hash
foul-up
screwup
washout
letdown
dead loss
dead duck
lead balloon
lemon
fail
cock-up
pig’s ear
snafu
clinker
View 2 vulgar slang words
Opposite:
success, the omission of expected or required action.
“Their failure to comply with the basic rules”
their failure to comply with the basic rules”
Similar:
negligence
remissness
nonobservance
nonperformance
dereliction
omission
neglect
oversight
I said all things to you, because I was neglected as child and always wanted give a performance. Scared to let anyone down to be washout, letdown and all words highlighted. I want to perfect and successful; however, no one is perfect expect for Jesus. Successful comes in so many aspects in career and life. The true meaning of success is: True success means staying true to a deeper sense of purpose, despite deviating from a superficial social norm. It means finding joy in suffering. It means having the courage to peruse one’s own journey when confronted by the fear of uncertainty. I have found some joy in my suffering and I will confront the fear of uncertainty. I have a deeper sense of purpose and I am out of the norm.
I want to share 13 steps to be successful in life:
Find a passion. To be successful, it is important to define what you want in life. …
Show commitment. …
Learn from the journey. …
Have fun along the way. …
Think positively. …
Be honest with yourself. …
Take away distractions. …
Depend on yourself.
&
What words can replace “successful”?
Synonym Drs
triumphant.
effective.
efficacious.
accomplished.
achieved.
complete.
fruitful.
perfect.
Drake & Trey Songz’s song about success said all what is to be successful. They want the money, cars and the hoes. I want that too, lol.
In conclusion, I guess that is why I always wanted not to fail, not saying I did not, because I did have some hiccups. I made some mistakes. Did I let stop me? NO! I will never ever quit. I learned from my mistakes. I brush myself and learned from my lessons. When I fall, I get right back up and try again. Power of the tongue and law of attractions. Say something and will come true. So, I will not be a failure and I will l be a success. Fear is another emotion and do not let it overpower you. It is okay to be fearful or be afraid, however do not it is let consume you.
Voting is closed
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Aww Nicole, I am sorry you were neglected as a child, but you sound like an incredibly strong and wonderful women, who won’t let anything or anyone stop you from living your best life. I really appreciated your definition of success. I love this line, “True success means staying true to a deeper sense of purpose, despite deviating from a…read more
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lisa422 submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoTo Fear
Lisa HassanTo Fear,
Hey, how are you? I can’t stop thinking about you. Reminiscing on the first time we met, or at least the first time I remember meeting.
Man, has it been that long? I was seven years old the first time you entered my thoughts. Your small voice whispering in my ear- “this isn’t forever, you will die”..
“Mommy!!” I screamed. Mom came running to my bedside, “ what is it, what is it??!”
“ I am going to die!” I cried, remember?
Mom calmly replied “ Yes one day we all will die”. Even though mom sat by my side, one hand on my heart, one hand on my forehead.. talkin to me about the power of the beautiful, white light of protection..
You fear, you stuck to me. With me. On me. Through all the stages of maturity.. child, adolescent, young womanhood . We’ve been inseparable.
Like the time you reminded me if I should ever be happy and loved, it wouldn’t last.. I could die. They would die.
You never left my side, fear. From worrying mom would crash in a drunk driving accident on the way home from the bar, to when dad and mom fought so badly the cops would show up.. you told me they would kill one another, eventually.
Ohhhh reminds me when Maya was born, my beautiful daughter, making me a mom. I quickly realized I was no good as a mother, thanks to you, fear.
I just knew that I would fail, is failing, all the time. Especially with you gripping my hands. Nudging me this is too, too good to last, it won’t last. Happiness. Joy. Serenity. Love.
And suddenly, unexpectedly- I muted our connection. With breath. With movement and postures, mantras and mudras. Gratitude was my morning coffee when the first light made its way inside.
You see, I started my life with you. For as long ago as I can recall, and through the decades of my life. Now, the vail is removed. I am content. I am comfortable. I aged well. I am loved. I love me, inside and out. Yet, here you come around again…
I’m older, I’m wiser, how come you don’t care? For old times sake you whisper-“ hey, it’s too late. You’ve waited too long, you’ve wasted too much time fucking up,
with love,
with your family
and children,So this I am healed now, happy, love, joy stuff? It isn’t staying. You’re gonna die, or you’ll experience the greatest loss you will ever know”
that’s what I get for holding your hand, fear. All this time, all these years? You’re still here?
Maybe you were trying to tell me all along? Teaching me to live as if nothing real lasts? That I will die.. I am going to die.. we will all die, one day. So treat yourself and others you love deeply with the truest affections possible. We never really are promised the time..
Thank you, dear fear. How could I have not seen? The mastery of letting you go can only come from me..
Style score was 100.
Voting is closed
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Aww Lisa, this is so beautiful. I am sorry for the anxiety and struggles you endured in your childhood, but I am so inspired how you changed your relationship with fear over time. I love this part of your piece, “I muted our connection. With breath. With movement and postures, mantras and mudras. Gratitude was my morning coffee when the first…read more
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Thank you so very much.
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thewhitehairedgirl submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoThe Fearful Statistics
Anna J. Sinnock“Fear nothing” people say, but we all quiver. Our hands tremble and nobody sees. We look at our phones, and see inspirational messages every day. The hustle of work, the chase of improvement. Everything’s okay. We know of the wonderful lives that exist. We see them on our screens. Possibilities exist, consistency, consistency, the motivational quotes state. But when we look up from our screens, reality may hit us. When looking down, we can’t look up. And when we look up, there is so much to see, to fill in, the empty canvas, more daunting than the instructions given by someone else, who might want to help, but looking out for their own statistic. The canvases of people’s lives are there, and we find ours hard to paint. People take a look at themselves and try, many succeeding, or so it seems. The numbers on the screen may consume.
In college, as I sit in a psychology class, statistics are talked about. I’m scared. Fill out Question number 6. On it, there is a statistic that kids in the back of the class are more likely to fail. It is scientifically proven by a case study. I am a straight A student in the back of the class. A student whose family didn’t go to college; drop-outs, divorces, poverty, addictions. A student who has snuck in about 5 minutes late each day with a large coffee in hand. It is only the second week of the term and I feel the weight of the numbers squeezing me. I had considered a leave of absence, and the fact that I am even sitting in the chair is me fighting against the numbers.
I am in the middle of a move, the stress almost crushing me, turning me into a number lost in millions. Lost. Oh, moves are one of the most statistically stressful events in a person’s life. I find this out, and feel better, although I have moved lots before, throughout childhood, many homes, never stressed like this. So, I get a coffee from the new shop downstairs, try to find class, almost late, almost thinking of skipping. Another statistic, more absences, higher risk of leaving. And I sit in the back of class, late for attendance. Second class, I am in the back of the class, my mind wandering, missing my name, speaking up about the end, and my teacher says, “oh, I don’t know how I missed that”. I know it’s me who missed that. A head to count when I often don’t know where mine is.
After the first day of class, I had gone to the new coffee shop again, until dark. Would a statistic do this? On the third day of class, there was no new coffee shop. A car had crashed into it, breaking statistics, an unusual blip. I fear the statistics of everything. I don’t want to be another bad blip, shattering like the windows that left scrapes and bruises. I fear my name will be called and I won’t hear it. I fear the numbers will envelope me. I fear the screens that drown me, even with positivity that I’m afraid won’t be there. I fear, I fear, I fear.
We all fight to not be a number, a statistic in our family, another head to count. We all want to be seen. I’m scared that we have turned ourselves into numbers. So, every day I try to change the formula. Spread words and my kindness, letting us all know we are not just a statistic, a number on the screen, and we can continue to fight against it. Even while sitting in the back of the class, I will not quiver, but know that there is no fight, just undivided attention to what is in front of us, not below or above, but straight ahead.
Style Score: 81% (added lines between paragraphs though)
Voting is closed
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Anna, this is so good and so relatable. I know I too have been afraid of what I might become or what I might not be able to do. And I have also been overwhelmed by the positivity and simplicity of the success and motivators online. For me, when I am exhausted and all feels like its unraveling I just remind to keep showing up – back of the class…read more
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bnahlmarkgmail-com submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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kymistry submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks ago“Ghostwriter”
KymistryDear Fear,
We have been friends for a long time, at least, I thought we were friends. As I
grew older, with experiences, craving the same ideas I have had since a child, I noticed
a pattern in your behavior. Whenever I aspire to accomplish anything, that is when you
show up with a list of filth that could go wrong. I noticed you have never offered anything
that could go right. Though some of your theories present themselves to be potentially
correct, there were some outcomes I have enjoyed that proved wrong. At first, you
blamed my environment and family. Although I agree I grew up in a city with a high
volume of crime, struggled with my family, and with scarce resources available to my
neighborhood you bonded to my bones like the frigid cold whenever I had thoughts of
becoming anything.
Disguising yourself as a form of protection, I discovered that you never had any
intentions of me facing anything. Do you remember that field trip in the second grade?
We went to a professional Theatre in a nearby neighborhood called the Karamu House.
There, we were in awe of a play we had seen, and that is when I felt that special feeling
for the very first time. It is not a word, it’s a sentence… You remember that feeling, don’t
you? The feeling that I can do it, too. You shifted all focus from me, shoving the
thoughts and ideas of others in my brain. Ignoring my strengths, maximizing my
weaknesses. I would spend most of my years taking your advice, when you had your
way, that’s when you left me alone most. You fueled everything negative in my life with
anxiety. I didn’t think I could pass the eighth grade, but I did. I didn’t think I would
graduate from the Fire Academy, but I did!Instead of looking at things for what they are, you concentrate on the long
shadow the task casts. I know the craft took time to learn and studying and repetition
are utilized to be able to excel at some point, but you didn’t include all that. You
welcomed more problems. I do not wish to concentrate on those things anymore.
They’re getting in the way of me being efficient and trustworthy. It was to my surprise to
learn that the great Halle Berry, Bill Cobbs, and few others began their artistic journey at
the Karamu House honing their craft to become the amazing artists they are today!
Then, there came that feeling. It begins in your heart, fills it up with stars burning from
the inside out sending a sensation that takes you off the ground, and here you come
with all your gravity. As I grew taller, a bit wider, I noticed that you hadn’t changed, still
obese with old methods and ways of thinking became too heavy to carry around. You
showed up in areas in my lower back, poking me in my temple, burdening the back of
my neck. In some cases, you left me with no choice but to try, I needed to create more
space to breathe.
I took a chance and signed up for a few classes during college; there, I scored
my first play! You were there with me, too. I noticed your hypotheticals changed, but not
your thinking. Your list did not include what I could or couldn’t do; it involved if I would be
able to apply the techniques I’ve been taught. That revealed to me you noticed
something different about me, that I’m further from where we started. I met someone
new in those times of doubt and worry as I waited for my cues in the wing backstage.
Someone named Faith cheered everyone on, massaging the areas you made sore,
preparing me to go out and do the best I could. With faith, I don’t have to think so much
and with you, I would like to become acquaintances now to limit how much energy you
drain from me. I feel like you are necessary when I must cross the street or walk at
night. I have had the pleasure of working and meeting some great people in the
community, and developed into a fine artist, still learning to become better. I am thankful
for the opportunities I have been able to explore, one of them being in not one but two
productions held there, the place where it all began, the Karamu House. It was difficult
writing this letter, considering how you think, and I believe there are times you want the
best for me, but you lack being aware of keeping the best from me. You understand all
of it too well.Sorry,
Voting is closed
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Oh my, Kymistry, this is a wonderful piece, and I bet you are brilliant on stage. I am so glad you stopped allowed that voice of fear and anxiety get in your way, and you have begun to pursue your dreams. The sky is the limit from here. Keep facing your fears, and have faith that there is so much greatness within you! Thank you for sharing and…read more
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amber28 submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoHi, how are you?
Amber JimenezDear Fear,
Hello. It is nice that we meet, finally. We can thank me for that. Although we have been neighbors all these years, all I know is that you merely exist. Therefore, I admit, I have avoided the thoughts of what you consist. There was even a conversation had with my imagination. I ordered that there be no paintings of you in my mind. If I was to erase every aspect, then every glimpse would need to be deteriorated, as if history did not bother to include you. However, deep down, I knew the life of you still wandered through me. I also knew eventually we would gaze upon each other similar to a child seeking the stars of the night. Hi Fear, how are you.?
Voting is closed
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Amber, it sounds like you know fear is there but you do not allow it to control your life. Knowing it’s there but being able to manage it so it doesn’t interfere with your life is a true gift/talent. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
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jismar submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoAway with you, Fear
Jiselle MarquezEach day I go through the motions
Fear of abandonment
Fear of rejection
Fear of slipping into depression
Here I am—
Fearful of anything refraining me from existential satisfactionI am but an organism
A display of God’s creation
Making choices
Turning left, turning right
Made a mistake
Mmm maybe that’s not quite right
I fear I’ll never learn the wayA glimpse of insecurity
Then doubts creep in
Losing my mind
Forsaking my sanity
Now I’m wrapped waiting until a spider devours me
Lack of mental discipline has stricken
A simple insect, a simple human
I used to feel whole
Now I fear what started in my mind
will continue poisoning my soulI eat, I eat again
Body skinny, fat, healthy, weak
Hhhh I breathe
I could be lazy and limp
Or even exercising daily
But to no avail
With whichever I choose
My body is here or moves there
I fear I have no excuseLaughter with a friend meaningless
Life with or life without sun
Mom & dad, sister, brother
Who have I become
I fear I’ll never figure it outA janitor working hard, humbly
An accountant sitting back idly
Which career am I supposed to have?
Money, potential greed
I fear the green will never be enough to succeedNeeding the validation
The ability to express our person
I do this, I wear that
Aren’t I such a trendsetter
Do you see my purse
Do you like my hat
I fear we’re all just carbon copiesI see the sky, it’s blue
Something bad happens, I feel blue
The grass feels fresh under my fingers
So does everybody I come into contact
But at the same time nothing feels new
I fear I’ve lost the privilege of my sensesYearning to fulfill a life fulfilled
Enacting as my authentic self
I fear to live a life mundane
To be but a body & a given name
I have reached the boredom
I’m fearful of living a life so plain
Take away the fulfillment or lack thereof
Everything in between is what’s to blameOr is it?
I won’t fear that every day is the same
That I’m stuck in the repetitive cycle we call rat race
I’ll relinquish doubt & follow my passions
I’ll learn to smile everyday I wake
That much I can manage
Learn to be thankful for the connections that come my way
Cherish my breath
Say hi to a neighbor
Thank my God & pray
Dance like no one is watching
Dance like everyone is
Work on myself & that which I cannot face
I’ll thank the animals that have been slayed
To provide me a meal so I can live another dayAway with you fear
I’m in control
I will prevail
For I am standing
In all my strength & demandingAway with you fear
Suffocating negative thoughts
It’s time I start being mindful
A new practice I’m plantingStyle score: 68%
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Jiselle!!!! This is another AMAZING piece. Reading it felt like I was reading thoughts from my own brain. I feel like it’s someone of a perfectionist’s/ambitious person’s thought process. But I love how you conquer those thoughts: “Away with you fear
I’m in control
I will prevail
For I am standing
In all my strength & demanding”You are so s…read more
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beyondme submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoGod Is Great, Fear is a Liar, Grace Wins
BeyondMeGod is great, fear is a liar, Grace wins.
At first it won’t make sense.
I overthink so much until I make myself sick—I often think about all the what ifs and all the coulda shoulda beens
Playing images in my mind that break me down to the core…
The images that bring out the waterworks & leave your eyes sore.
The kind that have u grieving over something that may or may not be yours…
Now you’re left with this weight on your chest & a knot in your throat
The tears streaming down your face, re-living the pain
—over — and over
— and over again…I beat myself up not knowing wether I’ve done what’s right or wrong
Too afraid to repeat past patterns
Too afraid to throw myself back into the fire
Too afraid of the damage that can still be done after already going thru so much pain & sorrow.I remember what happened the last time.
& the time before that & I can’t help but think—What if it happens again
—God
I don’t know if I can handle it.They say old keys don’t open new doors .
They also say leave old shit in the past .Each situation is its own.
What if what failed back then, works for me now?
People wonder why I’m such an over-thinker
I hope you can see for yourself-howLook at what I just said—
—Shits always contradicting & confusingIt’s all a case by case basis
—and none of us have the recipe for each situationAll I know to be true — is you God
But I can’t always see you.
— and at times I struggle to feel or hear you…So I pray & pray.
Hoping you’ll hear me say.
I need you.I need you now as much as I did back then —
I need to hear you loud & clear again .
Like that day in my bedroom.
You gave me a quick glimpse at my future but it quickly escaped to
All a sudden I received a message but I don’t know where it came from?
It said to me…
Do you really think that laying something down at his feet —
Reaching out to him daily.
Choosing not to move-until you receive clarity.
Trying to let him take the lead…Will somehow cause you to lose something?—
To lose something thats destined for you ?…
Absolutely not. On the contrary.
He will bless you for your obedience.
For you guarding your heart.For you refusing to accept-less than what is right
— and not giving in to what is not .— and I know it will hurt to hear this but if it’s lost— it wasn’t yours to keep to begin with.
I know it’s hard to be still but don’t stress it.
Gods got this.
He knows best not only where u are but where you are going.— God is great, fear is a liar, & grace wins.
One day you will see you are not alone & you have never been…
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Aww, As a fellow over thinker, remember to always gives yourself grace. You so deserve it. I love this line, “He will bless you for your obedience.
For you guarding your heart.For you refusing to accept-less than what is right
— and not giving in to what is not .”Have faith. Keep your standards high, and trust that life will unfold how it’s s…read more
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dagzvizions submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to your fear (Sponsored by ProWritingAid) 4 months, 1 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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