You wrote me so many “dear future self…” letters in the name of manifestation. I thought I’d finally write you back in the name of closure.
Since I’m writing 2014 Atarrius, that means it’s been less than two years since your world stood still. They took your big brother, but they might as well have took your soul. I know right now you’re plagued by depression and anxiety. I know times are changing. Also I know it’s not due to typical 13 year-old teenage angst. You’re having scary thoughts, and in about 18 months or so, a cry for help will change your appreciation for life.
But remember… this letter is written in the name of closure.
Despite the sharp memories of my past slicing me open to leak our truth all over this page, I assure you, the sentiment is hope.
We’re gonna do it.
There’s most likely a look of confusion and intrigued on your face asking: “What are we gonna do? And more importantly, how?”
“Be alright. We gon be aright.”
Sometime after “ the incident” you’re going to start putting pen to paper and spill your heart, mind, and soul on pages. You’ll get really good. You’ll find what was violently taken from you before you even knew you had it. Your voice. Your purpose. All those nights of wishing you’d just be okay end up manifesting tenfold. Most people pray their dreams come true. You prayed to have a dream in the first place. Now your dream comes true.
I’m still mapping out how to get from here to the rest of the world so forgive me for being cryptic. Your dream came true, you found a reason to live. I have to make mine come true… I wanna be heard.
This seems like a good start. Until next time…
Truly yours, or should I say truly you,
Atarrius aka AJ Devon.
Atarrius, I love this so much! Your passion and strength radiate through the screen! I am so happy that you are at a place of peace and you are proud of who you have become and what yo have achieved. Although not everything was easy, and you couldn’t have planned anything that had happened to you, it all worked out eventually. Congratulations!!
As someone who doesn’t share my talents with the world nearly as much as I should, I just want to say, you taking the time to share your thoughts on my poem means the world to me. This gesture has given me a much needed boost for the day and I’ll be sure to do my part to return this feeling to someone down the road. Thank you. Wishing the…read more
Samanvitha, I love this! I am so proud of you for reaching your goals and becoming the person you have become! Your younger self would be so excited to hear this and know how far she has come. You should be so proud of yourself for accomplishing what you have because I know it wasn’t easy. You worked hard for this! Congratulations!!
’ve always craved to be chosen, loved, and finally be a main character.
Behind every screaming fit, behind every sharp retort, I crumbled at the thought of it,
The desire settled itself so deep within my stomach that It eventually became one with my soul leaving me a floating spirit filled with nothing but longing.
I’ve always craved to be understood, for my jokes to be taken as jokes,
For my cries to be heard, for my stories to be admired, I’ve always been one to desire so much,
A pitiful child with no hand to hold and no one to lean on,
A lonely child.
I always fell asleep with a tear-stained face,
Wishing on stars and praying to empty skies that seem to taunt me.
For less time, for people, for money, a face, a body, a mother.
I’ve always been a soul craving for more from when I was birthed and thrust into the world.
Craving warm, strong hands and validation.
My dreams seemed to slip from my grasp every time, with every shout, with every lash, with every punishment,
I slipped deeper and deeper into a pit of my mind, lost and alone.
I wandered for a while in the dark, making friends with the void and lingering in the nothing.
I found safety in it no matter how devoid of warmth it was I felt wanted and as if nothing could ever touch me no matter how strong and no matter how powerful.
I let myself roam for a while until one day I got tired of the same blank spaces and empty feelings that made the days I lived something I’d rather not experience.
I let myself wander a bit more but farther away where I slowly began to see the walls lighten and my mind clear,
I held my hand and I hugged myself more, I tended to the cuts that littered my skin and the wounds that littered my mind.
I wavered sometimes, shaking so violently it was enough to make me vomit, but I didn’t, I swallowed my feelings and I swallowed my doubt.
I always thought my dreams were just dreams, that it wasn’t possible to be happy anymore, and that I’d never be enough.
But with every step I took, every hit I took I felt myself becoming lighter, transforming into something I’d never think I’d be.
I took the reins over my mind, over my life.
I became the first person to choose me.
Now I sit in clear waters and make friends with the trees,
Now I wander more than ever but this time I explore with a newfound lightness and desire to be the one to love others,
To help, to change, to be a guiding lightest.
I became my dream in the end,
I became all that I could ever want so I could give myself that and more.
Jada, you inspire me! Your transformation was like no other. You have been through so much, but you never let that define you. You proved to yourself that you are worth more than that. You should be so proud of yourself. You have come so far and become an amazing person. Congratulations ♥♥
Now that I look in the mirror and I can contemplate all my versions of the past at the same time, Now that I can see myself in my own reflexes of when I was 8, 13, 16 and 20 years old and I find the tears without drying on my face And I see the doubts sprouting in my eyes, and I can smell the frustration, and my skin bristles when the past touches my neck with the uncertainty that stole my air then… Now that I’m 24 years old and I don’t regret anything, I would like to send me letters disguised as hugs through the mirror, Letters that say that although some pains do not go away, I was able to turn them into parts of the road, steps that helped me overcome obstacles. I want to hug those girls and tell them that we published our first book of poetry, and the second and third and those that followed; And I will have to confess that in the end, although we enjoy university and fall in love with academic writing and see our name and our words published in international magazines, we were not mistaken when we decided to leave that path. I want my hug to tell my previous versions that we did it and we were happy, we were happy when we made community short films, when we lost the fear of speaking in public; That we were happy when they recognized my face on the street and thanked me for my poems. I want my hug to tell those girls with flooded eyes, with suicide in the head, with nightmares about abuse, with the addition to the cigarette and with the traumas, that everything happens, that we become Ele Vergara, That although grandpa is no longer there, I would see this woman with pride and that we find every day, paths that tie us to life.
It’s been a while, I am a bit rusty at this. Please forgive the errors and step into my shoes for the moment.
I’m an insomniac. I have been, for most of my life. I never understood quite what caused it, but it stated in my early childhood. It started and stemmed from Fear.
Most of the time, it starts out with tossing, and turning, thoughts in my head running out of control until I can no longer stand the pace in which they are going. I roll, and I roll, toss, and turn, then I grab my phone, and I scroll.
As I scroll through the many stories, posts, and automatic ads, I see all of the beautiful people, living their beautiful lives, the screen before me stops at a writing contest.
A writing community, by the name of theunsealed. For the moment, my eyes ached and burned, I wanted to turn away, instead, I hit that button.
That button, was the very button, that led me to the greatest group of people and jumpstarted my healing journey through writing. Clicking that button, was the start of my dreams coming true. The minute that she responded to my question.
I didn’t think that I would ever become a published author, and often felt that I had let my Grandmother down. I had given up on writing in 2009 for personal reasons. In that moment, there was a spark of hope.
Negative thoughts often come with the package of insomnia. My dreams always seemed so far out of reach. I had been struggling with my past trauma, and in an instant, I was able to organize the jumbles of letters together into a beautiful story. Each of them, became my truth, my story, my power. My dreams coming true.
Each of the 5 books that I have been published in will tell my story. In poetic sadness, and in hope. Each of my entries came from my heart, and my insomnia Unsealed.
It’s a blessing and a gift. To read my words on paper. To receive the email that my entry has been chosen to move on. That everyone, is how my dreams came true! My heart will forever be filled with gratitude for all of you.
Keep writing beautiful ones. Keep writing.
Shelle, I am so sorry for what happened to you. I can’t even imagine how hard the insomnia must have made your life. I am glad, though, that you have found happiness in the Unsealed community. There are always people here for you, willing to listen and relate to what you have to say. Keep up the great work, we love you ♥
Thank you friend! I truly appreciate you reading and commenting on my first piece that I have written in a while. You have great compassion in your words of encouragement. You are appreciated.
I received death threats
from my subconscious.
Inviting racism into the foreground
of painted images where black fathers are missing.
( A centerpiece to Black cultures downfall /
an essential fabric worn by criminals)
Wanted posters plastered to define
what black culture is and was.
My subconscious reminds me of enslaved
woman drowning children in murky waters
to hide from slavery.
It caused me to question what defines Black fathers.
Are they parables? These quick spurts of nostalgic
temperaments in surrealist dreams.
Are they the attention to hang nooses
around the necks of family codes for a better living?
Are they abandonment that draws the line of division
to multiply family issues and keep these conundrums a
foreshadowing of my future.
I think they are a call to greater
pastures. A pair of shoes that need the soles
of a savior. A message to heal the wounds
of distant ancestors who live in me.
I awoke from my dream as a father to-be
encapsulated within imagery
of my family to be.
Rashan, this is a beautiful poem. I know that this must have been hard for you to deal with. You are so strong for getting through this and being able to recognize what effect it has had on your life. You have become a better person because of this and I know that your younger self would be so proud of you for preserving through what you have so far.
Thank you yes for a long time it was a struggle, and I’m always looking forward to break generational curses and be better for myself and for the world.
Dear Little Jaynee,
I know I rarely write back but trust me when I say I read every single letter you wrote to me. In fact, I was always there when the words on the page became blurry from your tears and the ink would bleed just as much as your heart.
I’m here now to tell you that your deepest wish came true. Now it didn’t materialize instantly, no, it was a painful journey. Almost a decade’s worth of wishing that your mom would change her mind about you and your new partner. The toughest pill you learned to swallow was “You cannot change others.” You released your expectations, and you blocked your mother out of your life because the agonizing pain from her repulsion became too hard to bear. All of this could have been avoided if only she accepted you as you were, but alas, she tried to change you, just as much as you tried to change her.
Now both of you are different people, you come as you are. You, a girl who married another girl, and she, a religious mother who finally learned to love you for you.
I’m proud of you, Jaynee.
You had to choose between the love of your life and the love of your mother. But shouldn’t a mother’s love be unconditional? So you gave up your mother and not because your wife asked you to, but because you needed to honor your true self. Speaking honestly, I’d do it all over again. I found myself stronger in being authentic.
I can see how different my life could have been, how miserable I would be if I had allowed her to manipulate me another day.
So just know that the torment you are going through now will subside.
One day, you will get to laugh with her again.
One day, you will hear her apologize to your wife.
One day, your dream will finally come true.
I love myself, and I love you.
Ps. Thank you for getting me here safely.
Jaynee, I love this!! You always stood up for what you believed in, even when someone so close to you disagreed. I know that must have been so hard for you, but you should be so proud of yourself for being able to conquer such a challenging time in your life. Congratulations ♥♥
I vow to never allow anyone to mistreat you again. To always stand up for you and speak my truth. I promise to live as my authentic self and to always shower you with love. You will never feel undeserving or unworthy again. I vow to make you proud and make you feel safe and secure. I will never allow anyone to make you feel less than, overlooked, not seen or heard again. I promise to continue pouring into you and to continue to become the woman of your dreams. The woman you always wished to be. You are her. You are me. We are one. I promise that I will never forget you. You deserve the world. You deserve everything your heart desires, plus more. You have always had a kind heart. You have always been a giver. Now it’s our time to receive. You have sewn many seeds and now, it’s harvest time. It’s time for all of your dreams to come true. It’s time for people to see what a gem you truly are and have always been, even though you didn’t see it. It’s your time to shine and you have nothing to fear. We’re gonna get through this together with the help of God and our amazing Divine spirit team. They are always with you. You have never been alone and never will be. You really shocked me because I never really believed that it was possible to become the woman I am today. I never actually had a plan to get here, but somehow this is where I am. God knew all along and so did you. I thank you for you imagination, creativity, & fun loving spirit. For wanting better and doing better. For not being all talk and no action. For speaking and dreaming this woman into reality. Our dreams are coming to fruition right before our eyes. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?! Forgive me for all the times I doubted you, neglected you, abused you, ignored you, gaslit you. Forgive me. I love you. I value you. I cherish you. I admire and adore you. I thank God for helping me to escape the mental imprisonment I created with the false truths I believed about you for so long. I thank God for helping me see the true beauty in you. The real you. The flawed you. You are the reason for this transformation. All your inner work is finally paying off and it’s because of you that I have blossomed into this woman. It’s because of you that I feel free to be my authentic self. You truly are amazing and I apologize that it took me so long to recognize that. I promise it will never happen again, okay? We are in this together. Its our time. Its our season. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I could never have done any of this without you!
Shelby, your piece is beautifully written and empowering to any woman. My favorite part was when you asked yourself for forgiveness. I’m sure your younger self heard you loud and clear 🙂
Shelby, I love this!! You deserve all the love in the world ♥. Growing to love and accept yourself can be extremely difficult. I am proud of you for overcoming this and becoming a better person because of it. You are so strong and I can’t wait to hear more from you. Congratulations ♥
I had trouble thinking about a dream or goal I had that came true that I would feel good writing to you about.
I graduated from university with highest honors but I went through a hell to achieve that goal that I would rather have no one else repeat.
I had a beautiful wedding that I was proud of because I planned it almost entirely on my own while working 50 hours per week at my job, but now I am divorced after eight years of marriage. The wedding clearly was not a long-term success.
I landed my dream job, writing law that would affect mental health care, but working there mentally and emotionally broke me to the point where I am disabled and unable to work ever again.
The dream I had that came true, that I am actually proud of, is living to age 40. I did not expect to live nearly this long.
My suicidal ideation and attempts began when I was 14 years old. Given how often I was injuring myself intentionally, it is a wonder that I lived to walk the stage at my high school graduation when I was 17.
My adult life often treated me harshly. I was in two long, challenging relationships. It took me seven years to graduate from university. Twenty years of intermittent employment were a huge challenge before I finally accepted that my mental health conditions severely limited my ability to work. I have been a patient at the psych hospital 18 times from the ages of 15 through 40.
When I feel any danger to my own life, I make it to the psych hospital quickly. The psych hospital is the soft place to land so I can give up the fight with the part of myself who wants the pain to end so badly that they would rather not exist.
My resilience and incredible will to live vastly outweigh my many urges to end my life every single time. I get up off the ground more times than I fall.
For many years, I have tried to fight the urges on my own. Sure, I went to therapy and took medications, but I was not completely honest with my care team. I put on a happy face because that was what I thought I was supposed to do. I even laughed and cracked many jokes throughout my life to maintain the facade.
I had a lightbulb moment eventually during one of my multiple psych hospital stays at age 36. I realized I had to be honest about how I felt and advocate for myself to get what I needed. I also had to get honest with myself and stop seeing the negative in everything.
I have had many challenging life events from ages 36 through 40. Divorce. Relocation. Death of a parent. Career loss. Bankruptcy. The list goes on.
I choose not to see these as negative. I feel incredibly blessed to have experienced all of this. I feel grateful that I could live long enough to tell these tales. I could not have endured any of these challenges had I ended my life while I was in high school.
Life is quickly looking up for me. There are still challenges, but I know I can handle anything the universe throws my way. Making it to age 40 has been fantastic. In fact, I spent my 40th birthday in the psych hospital, surrounded by an understanding care team and a handful of kind patients. It is not how I envisioned celebrating 40, but it is certainly a creative way for my birthday to be recognized.
I have plenty to live for, although I have little money and I cannot work. I set many goals, such as learning new skills and hobbies, meeting people with common interests, and getting back to my first love: writing.
If you have lost the will to live, please remember that things do get better. No emotion lasts forever. Try to imagine yourself five, ten, twenty years from now. Where do you want to be?
It is a dream come true that I have made it to 40 years of age. My next dream is to reach 50 years. I hope you become grateful for your life, too, if you have not already. I am telling you with absolute confidence that it is possible for you because you, too, have an unshakeable will to live. It is in your DNA.
However, if these feelings of despair persist, please call the crisis line in your country. You do not have to endure this alone.
Alexis, this is so cute. You are right, “Not everyone is lucky to experience someone like you!” You are a unique, kind, and beautiful person. You have so much potential to be anything you want to be. You should be so proud of yourself because you have come so far. Congratulations! ♥
Learning fast
Thought I would apply
Not knowing what would happen
Or if I would get in
Or if the world would come crashing down
Thinking too good to be true
Then got that email
That email that would change everything
The ability to do something bigger than yourself
To the bigger name actors
To the lights surrounding you
To the chance to build connections
To the nicest people
Not the never ending drama
To the people you’ve gotten to meet
What you’ve gotten to create
Knowing you were apart of something
Seeing your name rolling away
Knowing the people that made it possible
To the great times
To the hard times
To the things that make it worth it
To see it on screen
To the birthday boy celebrating
To the cupcakes and singing
To the fun times and laughs
To the premieres and dinners
Trying to enjoy it before its all done
The excitement of finishing
From start to finish
Oh how proud you’ll be
What you accomplished
Can’t believe its over
Till next time
Rachel, this is so cute! I am so happy that your journey has been successful. You have clearly become an amazing person and I am glad you have reached a place of peace and love in your life. I can’t wait to see what else you will accomplish in your life, because I know that it will be great. Keep up the good work. ♥
Nine. That’s the shoe size you will have when you are older. You will need to know that if you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, as you have been warned about. Right now, you are still wearing those jelly shoes that make your feet sweat. You have been wearing them everywhere lately: stomping on soggy fries by the pool, squatting in the creek to catch crawdads, and even to church, despite mom’s requests not to.
Shoes are kind of a big deal in the future. You will be judged by them frequently. They will be a status symbol if you can afford Louboutin heels. They will be a quiet statement if you wear Converse high tops to support Kamala Harris. Some will even be collectible items if you choose to track new sneaker releases. What they will not be is dropped.
Until now, you have received the message loud and clear that your actions have consequences. You have been grounded for staying out past when the streetlights come on. You have had to write a sentence one hundred times to remind you not to talk so much during class. You have even had to wear the dreaded Dunce Hat for reporting a boy holding you down to kiss you on the playground. That will also change in the future, so your voice will have more power as you grow up.
Look down. See how you are holding your hands. Your knuckles are white, your dirty nails are digging into your palms. There is a familiar tightness in the way your face lands, just like mom’s. These are what we now call nonverbal cues that relate to stress. What you do not know yet is that stress doesn’t just happen when something bad happens. For you, it walks hand in hand with guilt when something good happens too. In your mind, you think every good thing must be balanced with a bad thing: the other shoe must drop. Your job is to brace for its impact and assume the position you are in right now.
As you get older, you will learn to manufacture the punishment if it doesn’t show up on its own. You will be dating someone who pauses too long after you have told them you love them and you will anticipate the punch of the other shoe falling, even if they tell you they love you too. The pause was toxic.
You will hear your mom and dad talk about how great the family vacation will be, but you will already be doing the mental countdown of what will come next to balance out that joy. Will your house flood again? Will your friend not invite you to a party? Will there be chain letters that follow, requiring you to forward them…or else?
I am here to tell you that, if you continue to tell yourself these stories, you will have a noticeable hump on your back when you are older. You will also have acid reflux and headaches and, most importantly, you will be robbed of joy no matter how it presents itself.
It will take you until you are 52 to discover self-love. You will waste many years and relationships assuming that every ounce of happiness that comes your way will have conditions with it. In truth, you will have many struggles, but there is no need to complicate them with narratives of doom inside your head.
At your age, the lessons are still malleable. You can unlearn so many of the things that could hurt you and you can learn that you are strong enough to bounce back when tragedy does strike. As a neurodivergent, your brain will work differently than some, but that creative, quirky side of you will serve you well,
So, kick off your sticky jelly shoes and maybe dry some of the ick off your feet. Lay back on the slide in the backyard and watch the clouds. Wave at planes flying overhead and make up stories of who is in them. Breathe deeply and absorb all the joy of being young because you will need to harvest happiness and grace for future challenges. Above all, know that you are safe. You no longer have to protect yourself with that inner dialog. You are strong and beautiful and never, ever have to think about the other shoe dropping because you hold the power to accept love unconditionally.
Trina, I love this. You have accomplished so much and I know that your younger self would be really proud of you. Self-love can be a long journey. Just know that you are an amazing person with endless potential and I am so excited to see what you accomplish. Great work ♥
My dreams so it seems
Always happen in steams,
Moments overflowing with love.
But believing in dreams
Can lead to extremes,
So, remember the stars up above.
Care for yourself,
And realize you’re worth it.
Then help to tell others,
They also deserve it.
A dream’s what we make it,
And I know for me,
My dream is to live,
Completely
Free.
When you’re young, people often ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s an exciting puzzle, and the bigger the dream, the more enthusiasm that meets it. As you grow, however, the pressure behind the question increases, and the vigorous responses are fewer and farther between. It was in this stage of life, when the world seemed to demand I pick a career and stick to it, that my notion of dreams took an unexpected turn. After all, at that point, my dream was to simply float around- a dirty, long-haired, guitar-strummin’ hippie. Boy, was that boy in for a surprise.
Although I still chafed at the idea of picking a permanent job and becoming part of what I saw to be a messed-up machine, my mentors got through to me. My scholarship shouldn’t go to waste. What harm was there in further learning?
Enrollment in the university meant declaring a major (there’s that pressure again), and in a fateful moment, I realized that teaching wouldn’t be the worst thing. After all, my English teacher had lit up my life dispelling the darkness that threatened to edge me out. She equipped me with beyond brilliant books, the power of the pen, and sent me to do some digging- into my hurt, into my power, into my truth, into my purpose.
If I could repay the lifesaving gift of a teacher who cares, well, that would be something. And, hey, summers off? Hippy time! Thus, a dream became more practical, but also so much more complex.
I got that dream job (even if it took a while to realize it), working at a Junior High, in the sweaty hormone-filled halls of the school so mid they call it middle. Despite the shenanigans, I sincerely loved it- the fruits of working with young people are incalculable. I had a great team of support around me, but it was still so heavy. And so hard. I felt like a complete failure many times those early years. Visualizing handing in my keys became a pastime.
And yet, it was my dream. Was that the secret? That embracing the reality of a dream makes your dream a reality? Seemingly at the same moment that these thoughts began to bubble in my brain, I received word that I would have to transfer to a different school due to student numbers and budgetary concerns.
Leaving the dream that I’d just begun to build? Fortune allowed me to keep a job, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d been dealt a losing hand. The change, as always seems to be the case, was brutal. I struggled and longed to return to my home school. A colleague would retire in the spring, so there was hope.
If I could only hold on for a year.
That mentality had me living a half-dream. I didn’t realize this until spring rolled around, and I did not get my dream job back. This ironic twist had the potential to crush me, but instead I stayed strong. I was the key factor in my dreams, not my circumstances. I decided then and there to reclaim and build upon the dream: to be fully me and more importantly to start rapping for my students. That single choice changed my classroom and my life in ways that could (and hopefully will) fill books.
3 years later, the principal of dream school 2.0 informed me that the graduating class selected me to speak at commencement. This was the class. The group of kids who caught my first rap. Who saw me, believed in me, and helped me recreate a dream. Those were the students who witnessed my decision to lean into vulnerability, to own my expertise, and to unapologetically love myself. I couldn’t wait to have one more moment together on our serendipitous journey.
I mostly kept to tradition and filled the speech with cliches, cheesy jokes, and of course, life advice from Shakespeare, but I couldn’t resist signing off with a rap. Standing on that stage, spittin’ bars in front of those kids- who’d grown so much, who’d made me so proud, who’d driven me so crazy, who’d helped me build a new home- now that was a moment that makes you pinch yourself.
So, yes, I’m living my dream. Still, I wish more people asked me, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Paul, you are an incredibly creative writer!! You should be so proud of yourself for being able to achieve so much and be so happy while doing so. Love the line about you working “in the sweaty hormone-filled halls of the school so mid they call it middle.” You are hilarious!! I think you would be such a great author, or, you never know, a rapper!…read more
To My Beautiful Youngest Self,
We did something we never thought possible. All those nights counting the years, days, hours, and minutes until we turned 18. Our journey was not easy; we faced not just physical attacks, but spiritual ones as well. We spent many nights crying and praying that someone would come and remove us from this nightmare. We left The Cult.
I am proud of you because you hung on. You knew early on that this was not our “Truth,” but when you are a victim of manipulation, abuse, and bullying, you did what you thought was best. You learned to “play the game” to survive—smiling when told, never speaking about the physical and emotional abuse. You did this to avoid further abuse. There was a time that you considered doing the unthinkable, but you were determined to move beyond that.
You rebelled in ways people wouldn’t have understood, but I do. School was your form of rebellion. You prepared us by creating lifelong friendships, even though you were warned not to. It was as if you already knew these friends would be important later. Did you know? I smile to think you had a plan.
When high school ended, you were ready to leave at 1. Unfortunately, you were guilted into staying longer because our grandmother, now living with the family, was ill. You were told how helpful it would be, and that family was the most important thing. You loved Grandma so much and didn’t want to leave her. So, you stayed—miserable, but you stayed. After a year and a half of turmoil, you made the ultimate decision: you left. I remember the day like it was yesterday. Your plan was impeccable.
Everyone was sitting in the kitchen when you announced you were moving. They looked at you as if it were some hilarious joke. What they didn’t know was that for the past year, you had been plotting the Great Escape. In your bedroom, you didn’t have a bed; you bought a used sleep sofa a year prior. When asked about it, you said you wanted your room to look like a living room so that when friends were permitted to come over, they could sit and pretend they were in your little apartment. You had started buying items for a small apartment, which you hid in the Hope Chest Grandma gave you (We STILL have that Hope Chest). One month before your announcement and departure, you had put down a deposit for a small studio on the other side of town.
No one believed you. They tried their best to guilt you by using our grandmother, our baby brother, and, of course, The Cult. They continued to disbelieve you until moving day, when you had a U-Haul, had those lifelong school friends help you pack all your things, and left.
For a while, we were at peace. We lived life, went to movies, met people, hung out, and just learned what it was like to be a normal person. Unfortunately, things happened in our lives, and we felt this was a spiritual punishment, so we returned. We honestly thought things would be different. They were not. It was more miserable as the judgment for leaving the first time was harsh.
Then one day, it happened. We had an epiphany. It came in such a way that we believed it was in our heads. But it was true. That day, we got up, left, and never returned. Finally, we had our FREEDOM!
Each time I think about those moments, I smile. I want to thank you for your resilience, wisdom, and ingenuity. My heart fills with a pride I cannot describe. It was all you and only you who brought us to where we are now. Anytime I think I cannot deal with something; I think of the moments YOU made it all happen.
I thank you and love you so very much.
Signed,
Your Older Self
Michelle, I am so, so sorry for what you had to go through. I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. The strength that you had to have to be able to overcome that is very admirable. I wish that I had as muchcourage as you do. Your younger self would be so proud of you for escaping such a toxic environment. I am glad that you…read more
My dream was to fly away from the nest;
To slay dragons and monsters along the way.
Everything in front of me was a big test.
There was nothing there to keep me at bay.
I befriended sea lions and magical mermaids.
I flew beyond the skies and swam deep, steadfast.
I raged through obstacles like a renegade.
I would do anything to forget my past.
My wings flew me east to west, straight and forward.
My legs ran with the wind and he ran beside me.
My arms hugged the world and she moved me onward.
My will was strong and fleeing the nest was my plea.
I dreamt big of flying far, far away;
Wild birds weren’t meant for cages or display.
Johanna, this is beautiful. You dreamt big and it worked out in your favor. People with closed minds who don’t believe in imagination and creativity tend to get burnt out and not reach their potential. You have endless potential! You can do and have done great things! Can’t wait to hear more from you!!
I wrote a poem. I turned it in.
My teacher read it with a grin.
He seemed so pleased, I thought he’d cry.
A tear was welling in his eye.
He smiled so wide, I have to say,
I knew I’d nail an easy ‘A’.
He chuckled, and I felt so proud
To hear my teacher laugh out loud.
He held his sides and read some more
He wound up rolling on the floor.
He giggled like a girl, and then
Stood up and read my poem AGAIN!
He snickered, snorted, shouted, “D’oh!”
“Excuse me kids, I gotta go.”
His face turned red as off he ran,
Still snickering, to use the can.
He didn’t make it there to pee.
My poem came back. I got a D!
Twenty years later…
As I look back, I realize
His laughter really was a prize.
I kept on writing through the years.
And made a name amongst my peers.
I dreamt of being known worldwide.
“And now I am,” I say with pride.
My dream was not a quirky whim.
I’m published now because of him!
p.s. I wrote a funny poem while in detention during my senior year of high school.
It made its way to my English teacher’s desk, who gave me extra credit. Unfortunately, she missed the submission deadline for a national high school poetry anthology.
I hope to share that poem in another challenge through The Unsealed.
Donna, this is such a good poem. Just making people smile is your gift. You bring the joy to people’s lives. You are the person who brightened that teacher’s day! Although your grade may not have shown it, your positivity is what brought it to life. I can’t wait to hear the poem you never released. I hope that you share it soon!!
To the young man full of insecurities
I pled that you believe me when I say
I never sought out to write a sad poem
Didn’t dream of being a spoke person
For depression
But when you’re being a real person
Unconsciously you resemble your
Skeletons in the closet
And depression has an interesting way
Of making an introvert crave
What they don’t care if someone deposited…
Attention.
Standing in front of the door of success
Is my mistakes
My secret sin
Loose ends
I’m still trying to make sense of
A raging sea of dreams
That I promise I’ll bring into fruition
But never left the random enthusiastic conversations
I had with someone I barely labeled as an
Associate
But still
I write sad poems
To remind the sorrow
That I hold the power to create
Mountains covered in vegetation
Hurricanes that drown nations
With wisdom
Conglomerations of kingdoms
In the palms of my hands
In the midst of my woes
I
We
Stand
As the definition
Of a poet
Shading light into
The depths of emotions
For those who
Never saw it
For those who
Never noticed
The rise of the tides
That covers our minds
With rancorous swamps
May the words of our poems
Be the fertilizer that helps
Trees grow from
Their lugubrious stumps
Their and our hard times
We shall trump
Because we are
The definition of a
Poet.
Anthony, I am sorry for what you have been through. Sometimes negativity can get the best of us and can really change our mindsets for a while. I am happy that even in these times when you were down, you found ways to bring yourself back up. Your younger self would be so proud of you, I know I am!! Keep up the great work ♥
Has it really been thirty years
since that first trip to the Bahamas?
Since I had to white-knuckle
turbulent skies and roiling seas?
Wasn’t I afraid to make such
a journey alone?
Did I expect my singlehood to be
satisfied by the billions of
stars in the night sky?
Or by that diamond tennis bracelet
I purchased, no longer in style?
Did I think my loneliness would
be relieved by my friend, Tom Clancy?
Or maybe by the stateroom upgrade I
was offered as a first-time cruiser?
Was it desperation that led to
sex with a stranger I picked up
among the pulsing and gyrating
of the disco?
Lorraine, I love this! Your courage is so admirable and I am so glad that you got to experience things that you wouldn’t have normally done if it weren’t for that! Spontaneous events are often the most memorable… clearly they were fro you ♥ Great work
If you had told me when I was seventeen that I’d be thirty-seven years old, seven years divorced, single and on a trip to Bali, Indonesia in the spring of my thirty-seventh year, I wouldn’t have believed you. I wouldn’t have even heard beyond the word divorce and got to the fun word, Bali. Instead, in a full-fledged teenage frenzy, I would have shot into fight mode, words flying out of my mouth like a gamer’s quick-twitch thumb on their controller’s trigger. I would have thrusted my virgin heart forward and valiantly proclaimed my ability to fall in love and stay in love is much greater than those with broken love pacts. I would have told you that I’d be one of the foreverers, that I’d “get it right” because I’m different. I’m special.
What a thing for that on the cusp of adulthood girl to wholeheartedly believe. And I don’t say that shaking my head in disbelief at wide-eyed, sweet, yet senseless little me. Rather, I say it because the “special” part and the “I’m different” part of that seventeen-year-old’s sermon were spot on, just not for the reasons she assumed.
She had no idea then how brave she’d become to keep looking Fear in its blood-red eyes and try for what she wants whether that be romantic love, a career, a destination, or a dream, again and again in a world that has become less and less forgiving. She had no idea that the first boy she’d love at seventeen would still be her big love touchstone at thirty-seven, and for good reason. (Her picker was spot on at seventeen.) She had no idea the why of her special or her brand of difference, but she knew it was there inside of her, and to this day that insight at such an early age is impressive to me.
She wouldn’t have believed me if I told her she’d go through two starless years not believing in love or at least not believing love would happen to her (again). She wouldn’t believe me if I told her the way the last man treated her. Everyday a fire drill. Stop, drop, and roll up what’s left of your self-esteem into a microscopic ball so he can’t see it.
She’d say, “No, not me. I know all the big dreams I dream up when I climb onto my parents’ rooftop after everyone falls asleep are meant to be. And they don’t include a fucked up he.” She wouldn’t say it like that though, she’d simply say, “Nope. That’s not me!” but the above sentence would be what she means.
She wouldn’t have known where Bali was on the map. But she wouldn’t have known her way around any map that didn’t lead to her already mapped out dreams.
From the time of counting her stubby fingers to tell someone her age, she was a professional at three things:
1. Watching what grown-ups closest to her did wrong in relationships
2. Promising herself she’d do love right
3. Playing a sport
She told herself she understood love because she understood sacrifice, dedication, loyalty, teamwork, and the innate value of clear communication from the lessons of her favorite game. She knew in order to win the work must be done together. She also knew to love was to know something more massive than yourself then sweat, bleed, and cry for it when you must. She wouldn’t need to know Bali because it wasn’t yet a pin in the canvas of her dreams. All she knew was that she’d be a professional soccer player one day and she’d fall in love (for real as she’d say) and there would be no need for a D-I-V-O-R-C-E.
She didn’t realize there should or even could be a life beyond the promise of these dreams.
And so, keeping in mind what she didn’t know and her aptitude to dream, I think seventeen-year-old-me wouldn’t be so bummed out when learning about thirty-seven-year-old Bali tanned me. At least, not after I explained how much wider her dreams could be.
I’d tell her, you didn’t become a professional soccer player. Although, my girl, you got remarkably close. Some might say as close as one could come without getting the full dream.
I’d tell her, you didn’t fall in love and stay in love. At least, not yet. Although, my girl, you’ve been in love a handful of times. And it was every bit as delicious as you had hoped.
I’d tell her, don’t worry, you still find your way onto rooftops and dream colossal dreams and make up silly inventions and laugh until your belly is sore with glee. You write poetry and look people in the eyes when they speak and walk tall even on the days you feel so very small. You continue to care too much (exactly enough) about everything. You become more confident than you give yourself credit for and more filled with grace than ache although you often won’t admit that either. You grow into a human who is every bit as powerful as you once dreamed. It just looks different than you imagined. Nothing about that is less worthy of celebration.
And she would be heartbroken and transfixed by her future self at the same time. Then after a long pause, she’d say something like, “so I’m a foreverer after all.” Shocked and caught off guard, I’d say, “What do you mean?” And she’d say, “It sounds to me like I am forever falling in love with different somethings. Isn’t that, right?” I’d nod my head yes and agree.
Then she’d smile as bright as her white-blond hair and say, “That sounds like a foreverer to me.”
Jamie, this is SO good. Despite life not going exactly the way you planned it to (which is perfectly normal; nobody ever knows what the future holds for them) you faced every challenge head on and stayed so strong. I admire your ability to love and persevere through anything. I wish I was more like this! Keep up the great work!! ♥