Note: I wrote this last New Years day. I found and re-read it yesterday and realized that in part that my prayer was answered. Some of it is still in the process of being answered.

As we close the curtain on 2022 and pull back the curtains to a bright, new you I don’t know what to expect. I couldn’t have imagined 2022 going the way it did, so please forgive my anxious anticipation, and please know that it is also mixed with an excitement and enthusiasm to reset and begin again.

I pray that I change, heal, and progress throughout the year. I pray that you teach me the lessons God knows I need to learn to be who He has created me to be. I pray that you are a gentle teacher full of compassion, kindness, “I love yous” and and “I’m sorrys.” I hope this year is full of adventures, full of laughter and love, and that it is surrounded with healthy friendships that continually call us both to excellence and holiness.

Most importantly I want to strengthen my relationship with God, to listen to his voice, to trust and rely on Him fully in every moment and to give Him everything.

I ask for protection for my………
Mind
Heart
Soul
Body
Friends
Family
Home

in the upcoming year. Deliver us Lord from every temptation, evil, danger and/or harm that the enemy could imagine. Make us holy.

2023 you have large shoes to fill. I know the Lord has given you a big purpose to fulfill. I know that the Lord is just a step ahead of me–He’s already in 2023 dealing with each trial, making a message out of a mess and guiding my footsteps. And so I dare to follow Him wholeheartedly into the unknown, into the heart of you–2023. Welcome 2023! I can’t wait to see what you have in store.

Sincerely,

*This summer my friend challenged me to write something based off of paint color names. I did it once and liked the result, so I had to do it again. I had my mom choose 5 different paint color swatches at a hardware store and then wrote this. While some details in this letter have been changed (to fit the prompt) I believe this does encapsulate the beautiful spirit of my deceased godmother so I dedicate this to her.
____________________________________________________________________________
I miss you

I miss the way you used to romanticize life

And filled it with special moments

What a blessing it was to watch you relishing in every moment you were here.

With hospitality you would set out fancy china, brew coffee and fill a carafe with heavy cream just for me

The way you would belly laugh when we got caught in a downpour and arrived home sopping wet.

The few sacred moments we spent together in the morning where you would put my hair in a ponytail and smile warmly at me.

The way you would kiss me on the forehead and your cloudberry clad lips would imprint themselves there as a reminder of the deep love you had for me.

The way you would strategically place the tinsel on the Christmas tree so that it would glimmer in the darkness.

Your enthusiasm for life was what made you so beautiful.

And it is a piece of you that shines in the mosaic of pieces that make up me.

One day I will have my own goddaughter and I hope my wonder and enthusiasm for life

Will shine as deeply in her as yours does in me.

With Love,

Last night, I didn’t sleep well, as I had several nightmares. I was haunted by the endless images I saw in the news: A young woman’s naked, lifeless, unconscious (possibly deceased) body being paraded around as a trophy after Hamas attacked young people at a music festival in Israel, a 25-year-old woman begging for her life as she was taken as a hostage and babies whose faces were covered in dust and blood from the bombs thrown near their homes.

When I awoke this morning, I immediately read the news to see the latest. And while the horror continues on the other side of the world, I was also disheartened to learn that hate was just outside my doorstep.

People at rallies down the street from where I slept last night are wearing, holding, and celebrating images of swastikas and promoting anti-semitic rhetoric. For the first time in my life, I was and am scared to be Jewish.

While I have been doing my best to educate myself through the news, friends, and online resources, I am not going to sit here and pretend I fully understand the conflict between Palestine and Israel – because I don’t. And I know that it’s natural and easy to see the world through the lens of my own experiences and identity.

However, we all, myself included, should see and feel our humanity reflected in every person on this planet. And act accordingly.

As I try to process these last few days, the violence happening in the Middle East is not just about me, or any one group of people or politics. This cruel attack on innocent people is about all of us. It is a threat to all of humanity.

No child, no person, whether they share my background or not, whether Palestinian or Israeli (or any other culture, race, or religion), deserves to live or die in such an inhumane way.

There are a lot of issues we can’t and won’t agree on in this world. But we universally should believe in and tirelessly advocate for love, compassion, and peace for all people.

And sadly, right now, that’s not the case.

I am scared and heartbroken as I pray for the victims of violence, our world, and humanity.

Dear Mr. —

Did you know the NFL’s Ryan Grant also participated in basketball and track and field during his time at Don Bosco Prep School in New Jersey? Did you know the NBA’s Adonal Foyle still holds the record in New York for most points in a high school tournament game? Did you know former Suffern High School girls’ lacrosse star Crysti Foote is a member of the Canadian National Team and is recognized as one of the best female players in the world? Inspired by the commitment and passion all great athletes demonstrate, I know both the technicalities of sports and interesting facts about the athletes themselves, which is why I believe if I become a reporter for MSG Varsity I will be a powerful conduit between the athletes and the tri-state community. I will ask questions the viewers want to know and receive honest answers from athletes who respect my knowledge.

My confidence in my future success is based on the achievements of my past as well as my present occupation. As a young 21-year-old college graduate, I began writing for NBA.com and WNBA.com. With my own swagger, I entered NBA and WNBA locker rooms to interview athletes double my size among journalists twice my age. Publishing hundreds of articles and blogs on NBA.com, WNBA.com, D-league.com, NikeWomen.com, and WomensProSoccer.com, I have also had my fair share of on-air opportunities. Currently, I am a co-host for On the Mike With Mike Sherman, a weekly entertainment, lifestyle, and sports show that airs on a CBS affiliate (My33) in South Florida. Last season, when the 49ers took on the Giants in New Jersey, I was there to interview athletes and report back on the night’s events for CBS’ San Francisco affiliate. I have reported local news on Long Island and worked as a sports reporter for Artsis Media, where I shot, edited, wrote, and produced all my own stories.

Throughout my tenure at Columbia University, I majored in sociology and focused on the sociological impact of sports. Through my 40-plus page senior thesis, I discovered that to have longevity and acceptance as a female sports reporter, you must be a sports connoisseur yourself. Voted biggest jock in my high school senior superlatives, I have lived, breathed, and loved sports throughout my life. I believe if given a chance I will be recognized and respected by the sports world for telling compelling stories and conducting in-depth thought-provoking interviews. In other words, I’m a talented young recruit with an All-American future and would love to help the MSG Varsity team work its way to the top of the game.

Sincerely,

This weekend, I was standing on top of a hill with a fortress and a lighthouse that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea in a small beach town in Spain called Tossa De Mer. It was absolutely breathtaking. And I never even heard of this place before we arrived. All I could think was, “How in the world did I get here?”

Flashback five years ago, I was at a job in Ohio, and I was not particularly happy for many reasons. Guided by a strong intuition (and maybe my misery as well), I left my career as a sportscaster to start my own company, theunsealed.com. We are a platform that allows people to share personal stories in an effort to use writing to transform pain into power. If you know me, you know The Unsealed fuels my soul. It makes me excited to wake up in the morning and fills my life with meaning and purpose. For the first three years after starting my company, I worked every single day – most of the time, ten hours a day. No vacations. No days off. And I was perfectly happy doing so.

Personally, I have always enjoyed dating and the attention that comes with it, but after two very serious relationships in my early and mid-twenties, for a long time, I didn’t want anything serious. I always feared that a relationship would and could hold me back, especially when I was a sportscaster, and I didn’t know what city or what job would be next. However, as I became more certain that The Unsealed was what I wanted to do and could do with my life, I became cautiously more open to the idea of a partnership.

Then, after the pandemic, my brother sent me an online flyer for an event. It was called Miami Tech Night; a networking event held every Wednesday in Miami for people who work in tech. My brother thought it would be a great opportunity for me to meet people in my industry. So, as I usually do, I followed my brother’s advice. It was maybe my second or third time attending when this tall, handsome man approached me and asked me what I did for a living. I happily told him, and then he shared a little bit about his career. As we chatted more and more, he revealed that he had started a successful online business in his 20s and sold it. I was impressed, intrigued, and inspired. He invited me to my favorite taco spot down the street to continue the conversation after the event. We quickly realized we had similar interests and family values.

From there, we started spending time together almost daily. Every week seemed to get better and better. So, one day, about three months into our relationship, I suggested getting away from Miami for a few weeks during the summer. Summers are so hot, muggy, and humid in Miami. I proposed L.A., and he said he had wanted for a while to take this massive three-month trip to Europe. He asked if I would be willing to come along. In theory, it sounded amazing, but I needed to work! Plus, leaving my dog for that long would not be easy for me.

My parents agreed to watch my dog, and my boyfriend promised me I could work as much as I wanted on the trip. He’s been where I am, so he gets it. I agreed to go, and for the first time maybe ever, I am figuring out how to have a work-life balance, waking up early to work before we go out for an excursion, and finding cafes in every city to continue to put in at least eight hours every weekday. Instead of resenting me, my boyfriend pushes me to wake up early and goes to play tennis when he doesn’t have his own work to get done.

At night and on the weekends, when we have time, we have the most incredible experiences exploring the world together, visiting castles in Portugal, wandering the Gothic Quarter in Barcelona, and getting lost in the public transportation system somewhere in Europe (super grateful to the restaurant owner who called us a taxi).

There is no way if you told me five years ago I would be here right now, I would believe you. But as I sit in a cafe in Spain and reflect, I realize I don’t know exactly where my life is headed, but I do know how I got where I am right now. And that is by personally and professionally following my heart.

With love,
Lauren

P.S. Special shoutout to my boyfriend – thank you for believing in me, pushing me, loving me, and inspiring me. And thank you for speaking three languages. We certainly would get far more lost otherwise!

What do you say when the apology comes.
And what they did to you is not ok?
When forgiveness isn’t so easily given
What do you say when the apology never comes–
When you’re the one who gets to write the narrative.
When you need to dig deep and learn how to write your way from survival to freedom.

Dear Mom,

Words can’t describe how grateful I am to have you as my mom. Growing up you gave me a great childhood. You made sure I had everything I needed to succeed. You have always been so involved in my life, encouraging me in my hobbies and passions, believing in the beauty of my dreams and advocating for me in my challenges. You are my biggest fan, my advocate, and my first love. Throughout the years you have shown me what fierce, true, and sacrificial love looks like. You have made countless sacrifices for the well-being of our family. You are truly selfless and have the biggest heart of gold. I hope that someday I will become an exceptional mother—just like you.

When I was in 5th grade you found an art class 20 minutes away from where we lived and you encouraged me to join. It didn’t matter to you that you had to drive 20 minutes there, wait till the class was over and then pick me up and drive 20 minutes home. When I was having trouble in math you sat with me and explained it to me to the best of your ability. You collaborated with my teachers so that I could succeed. And when one of my teachers wouldn’t give me the accommodations I needed you advocated for me. When I was upset because teachers were calling me “the evil one” you went to talk to them for me. You are always taking care of everyone—with kindness, gentleness, positivity, and compassion.

Now that I am older we have the deepest conversations. I learn so much from you. Your presence and involvement in my life is one of the greatest gifts. Even though I live 7 hours away from you, you make sure that I always know that you are only a call, text, FaceTime away. Knowing that you are there and being secure in your unconditional love have made me into the person I am today. It’s because of you that I believe in love at first sight. Even though I probably don’t say it as much as you need to hear it I want you to know that I love you to the moon and back, and I am so grateful that I get to be your daughter.

Love,
Hannah G.

As a kid, I was adventurous, riding rollercoasters at age five, going on a plane by myself at seven, and willing to travel just about anywhere up through my college years. I am not sure if it was the pandemic or the tragedies we see daily in the news, or maybe just me getting older, but somehow, along my journey, my fearless spirit began to fade.

In April, my boyfriend (of just a few months at the time) proposed a trip of a lifetime, three months of traveling all over Europe while working remotely. In theory, it sounded amazing. I went to Europe in my teens and early 20s and loved it. But three months is a long time away from my family and dog, and Europe feels so distant from home. I was scared to go.

Nonetheless, knowing how much my boyfriend wanted to travel and how wonderful an opportunity and privilege this trip truly is, I agreed to go with him. However, during the three weeks leading up to the trip, I had two separate back spasms/herniated discs, and, for the first time in my life, I fainted and hit my head pretty hard. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not. But I definitely felt very anxious.

Once we made it to our apartment in Barcelona, Spain, I felt slightly more at ease. So far, we’ve walked for miles and miles along the beach, not knowing where we were going or what we wanted to do. We’ve tried delicious food that was possibly worth the ensuing stomachache. And I have attempted to speak and understand a language I do not know. All the while, my boyfriend and I are beginning to learn more about each other’s quirks as we fully live together for the first time.

As I sit here writing in a cafe in Barcelona, eating new food, working on The Unsealed, and listening to various languages in a city I don’t know very well at all, I am now hopeful that getting a little lost in this world will help me find a part of myself that I thought was long gone.

Dear Christina,

In Carrie Underwood’s song “Some Hearts” she says “some hearts just get lucky sometimes.” I know that’s true. I am so thankful that you had the courage to ask me if you could room with me and Erin. That “yes” brought me a best friend. I’ll spend a lifetime thanking God for making me lucky enough to meet you, to get to know you—your silly, loving, caring, adventurous, courageous side. It’s as if you were meant to be in my life. You filled a void in my life that I needed to have patched up. You came just after heartbreak, you were the start of a new beginning with healthy, holy friendships in my life.

We were both shy when we started living together not wanting to appear weird to the other. But it didn’t take long for that shyness and awkwardness to disappear and for us to see that we were both speaking the same language. From then on we were sisters. We would go to the gym together to do yoga which always resulted in us goofing off and lots of laughter. Our macaroni and cheese and wine nights are began in the 2nd floor of Carmel and have continued to this day. Along with Erin we created several inside jokes that had us laughing at 4am. We braved a massive power outage together. You riled me up (in a good way) when I needed to be and you were also able to calm me down when I needed to be too. Even though you transferred to a different college the second semester we still stayed in touch and you even came to my graduation which meant a lot to me. We spent that day before my graduation catching up, eating yummy food that we were given for free, and watching Veggietales and Veggies in the House. It was the best way to close out my college career and it meant so much to me that you were there.

Girl, I have to say that I know it was more than fate that brought us together. I think God knew I needed a friend and He knew that together we would create memories and a friendship to last a lifetime. I can’t wait to see what new memories we will create and how our friendship will continue to be strengthened in the years to come. And I will forever be grateful to God for the risk that you took the day that you asked if you could room with me and Erin because it lead to one of the biggest blessings in my life.

Your best friend,

Dear Grandpa,

It’s been nearly 25 years since I last saw you, and what I remember most about you is how you made me feel. Whether at dinner on the holidays, playing cards, or sitting in your living room telling stories, you lived with a joy and zest for life that was so effortless, natural, and contagious.

Growing up, you were very athletic, just like me. So when I would tell you about the plays I made or the goals I scored, you’d say, “That’s my little athlete,” knowing I got my athletic prowess from you. I was very outgoing as a child, telling a stranger my whole life story within the first five minutes of meeting them. Since you were not short of personality at any point in your life, you’d always say, with a grin, “We know where that one came from.”

When I was around you, I always felt like you loved and believed in me and were proud that I was your granddaughter. Grandpa, you always made me happy, and you always made me smile.

For many years, you had health problems: diabetes, cancer, and heart problems. During the fall of my first year of high school, you had what felt like your 10th heart attack and passed away the Friday after Thanksgiving. I was devastated. Your death was the first time I lost someone close to me. But I pressed on.

For years, you told me the rain was good luck. So, to cope, I looked for rain to stay connected to you – a way to know you were still there. Sure enough, it rained on the day I graduated from high school. On August 15th, 2012, which would have been your 85th birthday, I was offered my first full-time on-air sports anchor/reporter job. It was pouring outside. And more recently, when I met my boyfriend, who treats me so well and makes me laugh, I asked what his name meant. When he said he didn’t know, I looked it up. His name means the God of Rain.

With all my heart, Grandpa, I believe you are watching over me. You know I became a sportscaster, and you love that I started a business that advocates for kindness, courage, and equality. You are so overjoyed about the quality of my new boyfriend’s character, and you think it’s funny how my dog doesn’t let anyone within three feet of me. In fact, I think you may have something to do with that.

So more than telling you that I miss you or even that I love you, what I want you to know is how you made me feel when I was a little girl is how you make me feel now.

Thank you for still making me smile. Thank you for still making me happy.

Love your little athlete,

Dear Mom, Here is what makes our relationship special.

I am not the only person in the world who thinks they have the world’s greatest mom. But I am the only one who is right. There are so many reasons why you are a great mom. Growing up, you showed up at every dance recital, soccer game, graduation, and field trip. You did my hair as a little girl, even though you had to chase me around the house with a brush and a bow in hand for 20 minutes to do so. You took me to The Plaza for tea time and to restaurants in the city for lunch dates. And you have supported every dream I have ever had. While I cherish all those moments and memories, what really makes you the best mom is that you have never let me cry alone.

In my worst moments, Mom, you have always been there to listen to, encourage, and give me advice. As a little girl, when I was upset about school or a boy and couldn’t sleep, you would sit in my bed and talk to me until I felt better. To this day, when I am sad or stressed or just need a friend, you are my first phone call. From my first breakup to my assault to the passing of my ex-boyfriend, you have held my hand, wiped my tears and. And somehow, you always make me feel better.

Your warmth, consistency, and wisdom make you a cut above the rest. And as a result, I move through life feeling very loved. You make hard times more bearable and good times more meaningful.

I am so lucky to have you, the best mom in the world.

I love you with all my heart,

Your daughter,

Dear World,

I will admit sometimes I complain. Some days, I am grumpy and exhausted and feel the world’s weight on my shoulders. When I am knee-deep in those moments, I often go for a walk or rollerblade by the beach, where I look around and take a breath, and I am quickly reminded of how lucky I am. There are so many reasons I have to possess tremendous gratitude for my life.

I live in one of the most beautiful cities in the country, with a roof over my head and food for every meal. A few years ago, I discovered my purpose and was able to start and pursue a business that speaks to my soul. I am, knock on wood, healthy and happy. Also, I have the most amazing people in my life.

My mom calls me daily to check in, asking, “What are you doing? How’s your day.” She always wants to make sure I am happy and at my best. Throughout the week, you can catch my father sharing all my business social media posts, bursting with pride, and doing whatever he can to support my dreams. My big brother, Andrew, is my lifeline. He gives me the best advice, personally and professionally. He has a way of looking at my life challenges through a clear and logical lens and can always guide me. My friends are loving, supportive, and just a phone call away. Some proofread my writing, give me business tips, or listen to me for hours talk about whatever I need to get off my chest. They want nothing more than to see me live my best life. And my boyfriend is the kind of partner that will surprise me and bring back my favorite meal. He will play with my dog and have dinner with my parents on nights when I know he has a ton of work to do. His thoughtfulness makes it clear that he genuinely cares about me.

All the people in my life make me feel loved, supported, and joyful. My circle is the source of my strength, as I am flooded with positive energy and kindness. I know that my family and friends will never let me fall too far or hard. So while the universe has blessed me in so many ways, what I love most about my life are the people I am fortunate enough to share it with.

Love,

It’s about to get personal here. You’ve been with me for way too long. You’ve torn down my self-confidence, you’ve creeped into the narratives that I tell myself, you have kept me grounded and not in a good way, but in a self-isolating way, you’ve even made a place for yourself in my beliefs. You have long outstayed your welcome and you need to leave now.

I was listening to a podcast recently on shame and I found the hosts definition of shame interesting. Shame was defined (on this podcast at least) as wanting to receive love, affection, and affirmation from someone, but not receiving that love in the presence of others. I remember one of my earliest memories of shame creeping in was in 4th grade. A classmate had quite a hatred towards me, though I don’t recall doing anything to her to make her hate me. Anyways, she put a death threat in my desk. I came to school that day and found it on top of my books and folders. The girl who wrote it came all too perfectly at the exact moment I found it, grabbed it out of my hands and ripped it up (a tactic she employed so she wouldn’t get in trouble). I decided to try and tell the teacher what happened, but without proof she didn’t believe me. I was depressed the whole day and she noticed and asked what was wrong and I told her again what had happened. But she didn’t believe me. I wanted and needed to hear the affirmation that it wasn’t my fault. That someone was on my side and that they were going to help me when this felt like too much for me to handle on my own. My younger self was forced to ask the question “why me?” And even though I understand now that hurt people hurt people, but I still ask “why?” 4th grade me thought the teacher would at least call my parents to let them know what had happened, but since she didn’t believe me she didn’t believe there was a reason to call my parents. Shame is what kept me from telling them. Shame thrives in secrecy and self-isolation.

It’s taken me years of hard work, therapy and tears to realize that a lot of the healing process includes grieving. I’ve realized that breaking up with you will be beneficial for me. One of my favorite pump up songs “Favorite Sound” by Echosmith says “[I] shouldn’t apologize for just existing…..shouldn’t apologize for just being me…….I’m learning how to turn around all the voices in my head I think I’ve found my favorite sound.” My favorite sound is me writing you this letter. My favorite sound is me unlearning all the lies you told me, like that I was unlovable and that there must be something wrong with me. My favorite sound is me learning that I am loveable after all. I’m learning the joy of just being me. I’m learning that I was not wrong, I was was just someone who had wrong done to them and didn’t know what to do. And I will continue putting the sound of self-love on replay over and over and over until it becomes natural for me.

But shame your soundtrack is being deleted. Hasta freaking la vista. Goodbye and good riddance shame. You don’t rule anymore.

Truthfully,

If I could visit my younger self I would go back to the day when I first learned how to laugh

Before my joy became bogged down by the weight of the past

I’d go back to when I felt a lions heart beating inside of me

Back when my weapon was my bravery

I’d go back to when there were no forks in the road

Back when I carried a lighter load

I’d go back to when I’d gaze up at skies so blue

And immediately my mind would think of You

When I thought peace could be achieved by hundreds of people linking arms in a chain

And I thought a hug could ease every type of pain

I’d go back to when I was baptized with holy water

And relive the moment I became a beloved daughter

I’d go to my childhood where I’d try to capture butterflies in my memere’s yard
And when I observed that a caterpillar’s journey is hard

When days were perfect with not a cloud in sight

And I would squeal with a child’s delight

Those moments of wonder were such a gem

That if I could I’d relive them again

But the clock keeps ticking as time marches on.

But that sense of wonder isn’t gone.

Indeed it still remains

When I think about how Love allowed Himself to be blood-stained

When I think about how Jesus called us to be like children.

That’s when awe & wonder start to pour in.