Dear Unsealers

Meet Roger! Roger lost his mother when he was 23 years old. Ever since, he has struggled with grief, anxiety and depression. He misses his mother who was a source of love and comfort in his life. One of his favorite memories of his mom is seeing her joy when she watched him perform in his first band concert in high school.

While Roger has found healing in writing, giving back to others and expressing himself through photography, there are still days that he struggles.

Write to Roger about your experience with loss, your favorite memories with your loved one and what has helped bring peace to your life and your grief. You can respond to this thread or post your own letter in this group or the group Remembering those we lost and tag Roger @oneturbobenz

Share your truth and change the world.

@abbiegwrites @alexandraparry @dsenlightenededits @falkytvgmail-com @gabriellebeth @lostone89 @delanomassey @jthomasdryandbarren-com @rkartikalestari @ashley_topham @brilee258 @braveheart @kayjahlorde @okiwa002 @amazz94 @jcbcle77 @corriefergusonbooks @jim-c @zaysmith1

All the best,

Dear Sean,

Our friendship began the night we met. It was August 12, 2018 in downtown Cleveland. My friends and I ended up at a table at FWD nightclub with you and your friends. Thanks to your charm, and that handsome face, we immediately clicked.

In a short time, I realized there was so much more to you than your good looks and your sweet personality.

Over the next year, I got to know you pretty well. I opened up to you about my past. You were supportive and understanding. I shared with you the challenges I faced at the time, and you gave me strength, encouragement, and confidence. You also took me for sushi, became my pen pal (exchanging a billion texts a day), and helped me set the foundation for my business. Sometimes, I’d even get you to stop by my apartment just to give me a hug.

As our friendship evolved, you’d often share your wisdom and perspective with me.

Vividly, I remember you once telling me a lesson you learned while serving in the military. You told me you were pushed so much physically in the military that you realized that the moment you feel like giving up – the moment you feel like you have nothing left in the tank – you always have a bit more fight left. You can always go more.

I left Cleveland in June of 2019. You came over and said goodbye to me. You told me we’d see each other again in Miami or when I returned to Cleveland. Little did I know that would be the last time I’d ever see you.

About two months later, you texted me, “I have a miracle.”

You proceeded to tell me, in text, about how a week earlier you had a seizure while home with your daughters. Your daughters called for help and got you to the hospital, where they found a tumor in your brain. You sent me videos and an actual picture of the tumor inside your brain. It was too much for me to absorb over text, and I asked you to call me, which you did.

At that point, you still didn’t know if it was cancer, but you told me, “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I will be OK.”

When you officially told me it was cancer, I don’t think my mind could fully process the reality of the situation. In fact, I still don’t think I have fully processed it. As time passed, I checked in on you here and there, and we chatted about life and other things.

When I first launched The Unsealed, you read nearly every letter, and signed up as one of my very first members.

After I thanked you for signing up, you said, “Your stories are helping people, Lauren. Your strength/story is touching.”

You made me believe that this lofty dream I was pursuing was not only possible but worthwhile.

While we didn’t talk much about your cancer diagnosis, and you certainly never told me your prognosis, you did tell me your circumstance taught you that no matter what, you always have to look at life from a positive perspective. When I told you I felt like I hit a wall with my business, you told me to be thankful I am here to hit that wall, reminding me that each day is both a blessing and an opportunity.

I used to tease you that you were a feminist, but you truly were, believing that women, including me, could be or do anything they so choose. I remember you even spent time on a weekend, helping teach young girls how to code.

Your daughters were your world, and you never wanted to miss a volleyball game or dinner time. If I called you while you were watching a movie with one of your daughters, you wouldn’t answer. Your time with your children was precious to you – and that was true from the moment I met you.

During your battle with cancer, you began to ride your bike – a lot. You decided to join the Great Cycle Challenge, aiming to ride your bike 200 miles in a month to raise money, not for yourself but for children battling cancer. You were among the top fundraisers in the country.

In the most challenging moment in your life, you devoted your time and energy to helping others that were suffering.

Sean, that is who you were. That is who all your friends and family know, love, and cherish.

A little less than a year ago, I asked you how you were, and you told me you were OK and that you were going to try some experimental treatments. Without going into detail, I knew what that meant. I didn’t hear from you much after that, and I feel sad that I didn’t reach out as I should have. I think, subconsciously, a part of me didn’t want to face the reality of losing yet another young person close to me. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been these last few months. I promise, it wasn’t because I didn’t care.

A few weeks ago, I had a funny story I wanted to tell you – a mystery that I finally solved. When I texted you on your phone and Instagram and didn’t get a response, I knew it wasn’t good. Ultimately, your best friend and your mom filled me in. I am thankful I texted when I did, as I was able to send you cards and tell you how much you meant to me. Your mom even said that when you saw the card was from me, you had a huge smile across your face.

I am absolutely heartbroken right now. You were one of the good guys and didn’t deserve a battle with brain cancer. With that said, I want you to know that the man beyond the charm and the handsome face has left an indelible mark on my heart.

Because of you, I will keep fighting when I feel there is nothing left in the tank. I will keep pushing to build The Unsealed, motivated by the fact that I know it meant something to you and can and will help many other people. And I will always wake up every day with gratitude and a positive attitude.

While I am mourning the loss of your life, I will continue to celebrate you through how I live mine.

I miss you already. Thank you for genuinely caring about me. You will forever inspire me.

With love and lots of hugs,
Lauren

P.S. I heart you.

support brain cancer research disease by donating to:
https://virtualtrials.org/strother.cfm or http://www.childrenscancer.org/seanstrother

—
@delanomassey @shelleybrill @kayjahlorde @mehraslam @amazz94 @abbiegwrites @bigstudbundy @lostone89 @willardogan @wilparker1 @andbrill @zaysmith1 @gabriellebeth @ashley_topham @asyk @hue-jackson @dsenlightenededits @jerricaconley @jsimon @johncarubbagmail-com @qcurtis @redskinsjjv84 @okiwa002 @vbrooks884 @oneturbobenz @writingsfromthegarden @jcbcle77 @yourbabydaddy @zuckerman @corriefergusonbooks

Dear Unsealers,

It’s hard to express how thankful I am for each of you. When I started this company, I was motivated by the idea that my personal experiences coping with sexual violence could inspire others. For me, this company allowed me to turn what was once a deep and dark secret into a superpower. While each of you has supported me on this journey, I am proud to say this company has become less about me and more about all of you.

I have connected with many of you, assisting you in writing your stories and sharing with you the wisdom that others have offered.

While starting any business from scratch (with nearly no startup cash) is incredibly difficult, the myriad ways we’ve deeply impacted people have given me a clear vision and pushed me to march through numerous obstacles every day.

A father whose teenage daughter struggled with a stutter wrote to me, “While teaching Morgan to relearn to talk will always be a challenge, we quickly saw the mental support she needed was far more important…There will never be a magic pill, and we knew that. Then, the Unsealed happened. It provided Morgan with an unbiased platform. It was safe. She found a place to tell her story from her perspective. …. The letter, told from her words, has acted like a coming-out party for Morgan…I am not totally sure Morgan even knows it, but I’ve seen the before and after… She has more confidence than ever to go get the life she wants.”

One of our members who has battled depression and overwhelming grief after losing his mom at a young age just recently posted, “Without The Unsealed, I most likely would be buried in the plot meant for my father, besides my mother. I wouldn’t be doing my best to offer my particular brand of hard work to my job. I wouldn’t be speaking out for the underprivileged. I wouldn’t be taking care of my father as he continues to wage his battle against Carcinoid Cancer. I am eternally grateful that the younger you became who you are in the present moment. ”

And an 18-year-old sexual assault survivor emailed me the following:
“I had mentioned that you were the sixth person I had ever told my story to, and I just wanted to follow up and say thank you for giving me the space to do that. Interestingly enough, I did not tell you my story because you were affected by a similar — and yet very, very different — experience. I told you because the way you instantly conveyed yourself as a strong female role model (but also a total stranger) created what I recognized as a safe space. You have no idea how much it means to me to see women like you… I know nearly nothing about you, but whoever it is that you are, you made me want to tell a seventh and an eighth, and a ninth person about my story… I’m not entirely sure where this sudden willingness to share my story came from, but I attribute it to you because you are the first woman I met face-to-face who used her experiences to drive her passion.”

Sometimes simply reading these testimonials make my stoic personality crack. My eyes well up with tears, and my heart overflows with emotion. I am simply amazed by what we’ve created so far. But I also realize that I am only one person, and the potential impact we can make as a community is far greater than me alone.

That’s why I have decided to add a new element to The Unsealed. Instead of just connecting with me, it’s time for you to write to each other – to be the light for one another. We created a community of pen pals – a safe place for you to express yourself and connect with people, most often strangers, who want to see you win in life. You can add friends/penpals and @ your letters to them in our specific groups, or you can post a letter in one of our groups (divided by topics: mental health, chasing your dreams, women’s empowerment, etc.) and wait and see who from our community responds. You can even start your own group. Also, you can make your letters public to share with the world or private for just our community. It’s up to you. Feel free to repost any contest entries into one of our groups so that people can write you back!

If you would like to be assigned a pen pal, reach out to me at lauren@theunsealed.com. In the meantime, please log in, explore our new interactive community and add me as your first friend/pen pal.

I hope you take part in writing, sharing, reading, and exchanging Unsealed Letters. Your words will not only impact many people on The Unsealed, but your truth will reverberate throughout the world. We as a community have the chance to bring to each other’s lives what you have all already brought to mine: hope, love, and peace.

Thank you all. I love you, and I am forever grateful for all of you! Now, it’s your time to take part in transforming many more secrets into superpowers.

P.S. Click “Write me back” below and write me back about my story, any ideas for the community, or anything else that this letter inspires you to share (You must log in and join the group to respond). I can’t wait to be enlightened by your truth.

@abbiegwrites, @abbycashton, @abbykb, @abo, @kayjahlorde, @krisqts-us-com, @mshagrin, @oneturbobenz, @abrill21, @shelleybrill, @cousin-shelly, @marcusj23, @willardogan, @wilparker1, @stevenburkett, @rschwartzsca-cpa-com. @lostone89, @telina27, @ashley_topham, @mehraslam, @lindseylamar, @katiedibs, @edwinbassler, @dsenlightenededits, @gabriellebeth, @hue-jackson, @mindfulstack, @jerricaconley, @jsimon, @redskinsjjv84, @yourbabydaddy, @okiwa002, @vcalero, @zaysmith1

To my younger self,

Several years ago, mom and dad moved out of our childhood home and mom sent me a box filled with items from our room that she didn’t know if I wanted to keep or throw away.

As I looked through this box, I found random items like a Mia Hamm Barbie in a package that I never opened and drawings from third or fourth grade. As I dug a little deeper, I also found a letter written to my future self. It was written by you – my younger self – a 17-year-old high school senior.

You’ll be happy to know that you got off the waitlist and into your top-choice school, Columbia University. While you will question whether or not you are smart enough to go there, college won’t be very difficult for you. Academics will almost come secondary to falling in love, getting your heart broken, making lifelong friendships, and starting your career.

After college, it will take a little bit of time, but you will make it on air. You will become a sportscaster. In some ways, the dream will be everything you ever imagined and more, and in other ways, you will be left hurt, frustrated and disappointed.

I’m sorry to tell you that so far, you didn’t get your own show, and you don’t have your own network.

But that’s OK.

What I love about you and what I love about me is that we follow our heart, and we stay true to our morals. We stand up for ourselves and others even when there is a heavy price to pay.

These qualities will lead you to tell the world in an open letter about what happened at that house party in Nyack when you were 16. I know you thought you’d be able to bury that, to push it away and forget what those boys did to you forever. However, it just won’t play out that way.

Don’t worry. You’re OK. You are more than OK. Your letter, which was addressed to sexual assault survivors, will help you transform all your pain into purpose.

Sharing your truth will feel so empowering, you will decide to lend your ability to write and tell a story to other people’s voices. You will start a business you can’t yet even visualize. It will be called The Unsealed, and you will ghostwrite open letters that will inspire strength and encourage equality.

While most of the letters won’t be about you, you will write the letters based on your interpretation of each person’s story. And thus, within each letter written, there will be a piece of you and a part of your heart. These letters will reflect the compassion you feel for others and the impact you want to make on the world.

The response to your work will be incredible.

Your very first letter, which was about grief, will save someone’s life. A man, who lost his mother, will reach out to you and tell you that he read the letter with a gun in his hand. By the time he finishes the letter, he will have a tear dripping down his face. That will be the moment he decides not to take his own life.

And that’s not all.

A former foster child will tell you that you made her feel seen. A father who will lose his son to cancer will thank you for caring about his child’s legacy. A teenage rape survivor will tell you that you are the reason she shared her story, and you are the reason she feels hope for her future. Countless people will be grateful because you listened to them, helped them express themselves, and amplified their voices.

Your work will give you so much happiness, purpose, and connection. The passion you feel burning through your veins will help combat the nerves that come with the uncertainties of starting and running a business.

It’s not your own show, and it’s not your own network. But this will be right for you.

Once again, you will be confident that you are good enough, but you will still want to be the best. Your dreams will once again be big, and your plan will be very specific:

Build an enormous badass company that will change the whole damn world!

You will have your moments where you wonder, “Is this possible?”

“Can I take this to the next level?”

“Will I continue to grow?”

Most of the time, you will be excited, but there will be moments that you feel scared. And in those moments, you will think of the letter your 17-year-old self wrote to your future self.

See, when I think about you and your struggle and how the cards ultimately unfolded – I know precisely the advice I want to tell you.

I want you to relax. You have wonderful friends, the best parents and you are young and curious. Stop missing out on the joy of the present moment because you’re consumed with the unknowns of your future.

Don’t worry. Everything always turns out just fine.

All you have to do is continue to follow your heart and work hard. If that doesn’t take you where you plan to go, I promise it will lead you somewhere better.

I hope this helps.

And thank you again for writing to me. The advice that I realized I wanted to give to you ended up being the exact wisdom I needed to remind myself.

We got this! Let’s go!

@kayjahlorde @oneturbobenz @amazz94 @theunsealed