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.

Dear Erin,

I remember the beginning of freshman year of college being worried about if I would be able to make friends as good as the ones I had at home. My naturally shy self wanted a place to fit in and longed for friendships that would be lifelong. Though my floor and I bonded well, I didn’t always feel like I fit in or that my friendships were as deep as I wanted them to be. That is until I met you. We bonded well. Our friendship continued through sophomore year. At the end of my sophomore year I knew I wanted to room with someone different, but didn’t know exactly who. One of my “friends” suggested that we room together. That was probably the nicest thing he ever said and did for me. I asked you if you wanted to room with me and was delighted when you said yes. Little did I know that rooming with you would lead to a lifelong friendship, lots of laughter, and a feeling of family.

We are so different. You are outgoing and extroverted. You start up a conversation with waitresses/waiters, cashiers, and random strangers on the street. You always have the cashier ring up your groceries so you can interact with them, while I rely mostly on self-checkout. I love to joke that you are my emotional support extrovert, as I am shy and like to keep to myself. You are a night owl and I am a morning person. You are from the city and I live in the middle of nowhere. We complement each other very well. What I admire most about you is your confidence, your strength and your ability to overcome adversity. Though you’ve been put through the ringer many times with school and health issues but you always bounce back. People may misunderstand your beautiful heart but it hasn’t seemed to dim the love you have for yourself (and I mean this in the best of ways). We’ve spent many a night laughing together, crying together, had epic photo shoots together and stayed up late talking about the men we like, and the boys we can’t stand. Ours is more than a friendship. It’s a sisterhood. I know that no matter what you’ve always got my back, and I hope you know I’ve always got yours.

You have a zeal for life that is unmatched. You make even the most mundane things fun. You don’t hold back or hide. In a world where people try to be anyone but themselves, you stand out for being authentically yourself. You radiate with joy and uniqueness and it is beautiful to see. You encourage, inspire, and provide a place for me to be my authentic self and I can’t thank you enough for that. I love you girlie and I can’t wait to see what memories we create this summer.

You are one of my best friends and I have no doubt that you will one day be my bridesmaid.

With love & admiration,

Dear Walt Disney,

Like you, I am both a creative and an entrepreneur. Your legacy inspires me beyond measure.

See, this weekend, I visited Walt Disney World, a collection of theme parks named in your honor and developed based on many of your ideas and creations. It’s the second time I have been there just this year and the sixth time in my life. Each time I go to Disney World, I leave amazed. The parks are enormous, and yet they are so detail-oriented. On average, 58 million people visit Disney World and its parks yearly. Each day, the average revenue for Disney World is $82 million. The parks at Disney World are unlike any other amusement park in the world. And the amount of joy you have brought to people’s lives through these parks and your films is never ending and not quantifiable.

When I look up at the castle at Magic Kingdom or the ball at EPCOT, I can’t help but think about how this entire empire started with just a vision and a simple cartoon, and that cartoon is now an American icon known as Mickey Mouse.

While I don’t know how to draw and have no ambition to go into the theme park business, my visions are bigger than anyone else can see. And my starting point is simple. It’s not a mouse like Mickey, but rather a letter – written from one human to another.

Through letters, I want to inspire people, unite different cultures, and catalyze productive conversations on critical social issues that impact our society. My business is still small – in its infancy. But my vision is clear and so big.

Mr. Disney, you give me so much hope and fire to keep marching forward.

For me, Disney World is not just a place for rides, shows, and good food. And your legacy is so much more than the drawings you created. Both are reminders of what is possible with a simple concept, a big vision, and a determined spirit.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

I remember when I first learned of misogyny, racism and pure hate
I had thought long ago it all reached its expiration date

Clearly, I was wrong
As many are still dancing to an old song

As a young girl, they told me playing sports is a microcosm of adult life
But in the real world, the refs try to prevent me from winning at any
role except mother and wife

They do so by attempting to lower my ceiling
While reducing my existence to what I do when I am lying or kneeling

When it comes to civil rights, I may have never seen a noose
But the concept of racial equality is definitely still a ruse

I know I am not black and I can’t understand racism through what I
hear on the news or read in a book
But I am human and I know a young innocent boy should not be shot
because of the way he looks

In love, we still can’t all marry the person who makes our hearts feel
cared for or protected
Instead we must worry and live in fear that our connection won’t be
accepted

In careers, many of us don’t receive opportunity based on ability
Instead, we are held back because of our complexion, sexuality or
femininity

The solution is in our own evolution

We are fighting old battles in a modern form
A new movement where we all stand for each other needs to be born

Men must stand up against rape and be leaders in its elimination
Women need to speak up when different races or sexual orientations
receive any kind of discrimination

Our voices would have so much more power if we sang as a choir
Going against the establishment as separate acts just lead us to tire

Whether you’re black, white, female or LGBT
People need to stand for people if we are all going to be set free

Our past should not still be our reality
It’s time for injustice to be the latest fatality

Our children deserve a world where hate doesn’t consistently rise
above
Instead, I want them to experience the best of life, by living in a place
where they can feel hope and universal love

Dear Dad,

I can’t remember the exact day or even the precise year that this memory took place. At the time, I was working for MSG Varsity, a high school sports network in the New York metropolitan area. I was probably about two years out of college and maybe 23 or 24 years old. That job was a breakthrough. It was my first steady on-air job. Before getting an offer to work for MSG, I must have been rejected by 100 stations. I was pursuing what many thought to be an impossible career as a TV sports reporter. So many naysayers told me I was wasting my time and my education. But not you, Dad. You told me never to give up on a dream. You told me you believed in me and tried to provide any resources possible to help me succeed.

That’s why this moment, which I am about to share, meant so much to me.

See on this day, I walked into work and everybody was buzzing about Emmy nominations. I was a young reporter in the number one market in the country, so my expectations were low. Then, just as I was about to start writing a script, one of my coworkers told me to check the Emmy nominations. They said they were almost sure they saw my name listed. I don’t remember if I read a hard copy or if I looked at the nominations on my computer or someone else’s computer, but I got a hold of the list, and sure enough, my name was printed twice. In my first year as a reporter, I received two Emmy nominations in the number one market in the country. Before saying anything to anyone, I went into the stairwell and started to cry as I called you to tell you the news.

That’s the moment that is etched in my memory forever. That’s the moment I will never forget. I remember how I felt overwhelmed with emotion and how I could barely even get the words out to tell you. I remember how happy you were to hear the news and how you told me to stop crying.

It wasn’t so much the recognition from the industry or that I got to go to the ceremony and wear a pretty dress that made that moment so special. Don’t get me wrong. All that was great too. But at that moment, I felt I had proved that your unwavering support and belief in me were worthwhile. That you didn’t waste your time or money investing in my dreams.

A decade and change later, I have yet to win an Emmy, even though I was nominated five more times after that. But that moment in the stairwell means more to me than any trophy. That five-minute phone call celebrating with you and hearing the pride in your voice were and are the only prizes that ever mattered to me.

I love you, Daddy. Thank you for always believing in me.

Dear Memere G,

Our time with you was always filled with special moments, moments filled with adventures that fostered in me a sense of awe and wonder. Though the days could get busy you always made sure we had a few moments impregnated with silence and rest. You spoiled us to no end with the quality time and the many extravagant gifts you gave us. We had the best dress up closet me and my sisters could’ve ever asked for. But most importantly you always made sure that we knew we were loved.

Even when you had Alzhiemer’s and you couldn’t remember exactly who I was you always found ways to assure me of your love. I remember the day two of your friends came to visit you at the nursing home that you were living at. I was chaperoning this visit to make sure they wouldn’t make you agitated. They didn’t understand the nature of your illness and kept asking you if you remembered specific moments from the past. I wanted to tell them off because I know you were having a hard time, but I didn’t know how. Finally they were going to leave. They wanted and tried but with no avail to have you say “I love you” to them. I knew you were searching for the words but couldn’t find them. After a few minutes of trying to get you to say it they left. I stayed a little longer with you enjoying our time together even if you couldn’t find the words to say. Then about 10 minutes after your two friends left you said “I love you,” clearly, coherently, and confidently. I was so shocked and moved by this special gift that you bestowed upon me. These would be the last coherent words you would say to me.

This meant more to me than anything else. I knew how hard you had to work to find and form those words. I know how your brain was working against you. These words weren’t just words, they were treasures. As a person who has been bullied most of my life I haven’t always been so sure that I was loved. My anxiety and depression convinced me that people didn’t like, nor care about me. Faculty seemed to ignore me or not care when I told them about the bullying. That’s why your words meant so much. I have to think that that’s why you chose to say those words to me, so I always knew that there was someone who loved me. Through a sea of static you showed waves of your love.

I want you to know Memere, that even though you aren’t with us anymore I still love you and I always will.

Until we are reunited again,

Dear Mom,

Growing up, I didn’t always appreciate you as I do now. I didn’t fully understand you as a child because our dreams were so different. At ten years old, I was outspoken and already very career driven. You always liked working and wanted to do well, but you never had a burning desire for a promotion or more responsibilities. For a long time, I thought you were less ambitious than me, but as the years passed, I learned that that’s not exactly correct.

Mom, you are the backbone of our family. When a crisis hits, you are the one we all turn to for comfort, support, and wisdom. You have this incredible ability to calm us all down while providing logical advice. When I got rejected by my crush in elementary school, you were the one who sat in my bed and told me I was beautiful. When I decided to go to private school 40 minutes from our house and then play for a travel soccer team 40 minutes away in the opposite direction, you (and dad) spent hours in the car, driving me back and forth. When I was worried about getting into college, you were the one who told me you were proud of me regardless of which school accepted me. When I opened up about my assault, you were the one who told me my response was normal and OK. When my ex-boyfriend passed away, you were the one who held my hand at the funeral. And when I started my business, you spent days on end sending out emails for me.

Mom, I have come to realize that you were and are very ambitious. You wanted, more than anything, to foster a loving family and you did whatever it took to make that happen. As a family, we have endured difficult situations together, and you have handled each with strength, grace, selflessness, and love. Every day, you have made our family a priority. To this day, you help us persevere through the most challenging moments of our lives, while also supporting us as we chase our wildest dreams.

Mom, you may not have wanted to be a boss in a boardroom, but you were/are one heck of a CEO in our household.

I am proud to be your daughter, as I admire and love you more than you’ll ever know.

With love,

Posted on the first anniversary of my Pepere’s passing.

I absolutely adored my Pepere* Hebert. He was a man larger than life and a heart of gold. When I was younger as a joke he would take the Doritos that I would have with my lunch, which would send me into a fit of crying because those were my favorite chips. As I grew older I saw both a silly and sensitive side to my Pepere. One day he would be giving his bride, his wife of over 50 (maybe 60) years a hotdog as a Christmas present, the next he’d be comforting me over the phone and reminding me that he loved me as I cried about lost friendships. I adored this man that would do anything for his family, that would do anything to see me smile. He was my hero saving the day countless times whether it was pulling a pin my sister had gotten stuck in her foot out of her foot (because I was too scared and squeamish to do it myself) or whether it was driving two hours to pick up my prom date whose car had broken down so that I didn’t have to go to prom alone. Every weekend he would take a leisurely ride past those of the children and grandchildren who lived in the area. My mom tells me he did this to make sure we were all ok. I grew up visiting him and my Memere almost every Friday night. If we ever skipped a Friday he was sure to call on Saturday asking when we were coming over. And when we were about to leave he would also exclaim “sabre** come again.” Anyone who visited was sure to feel welcome by the warmth of my Memere and Pepere’s home and the love that they exuded. Both of them were so generous with their time, treasure, and talent.

Perhaps the greatest lesson that my Pepere taught me was to never give up. Though he had several health issues he was never one to sit on the sidelines and wait for death. He found different ways of doing his hobbies. Around Thanksgiving of 2022 both my grandparent’s health declined and they were both in the hospital. My Pepere pressed on and started doing better. My Memere’s health unfortunately declined and she passed away on December 23rd (I’ll write a letter about how much I loved her later on). The funeral for her came and went. The months in between my sweet Pepere couldn’t catch a break. His health was declining. My mom and her sister would visit every day to take care of him and help him with things. In February my parents came downstate (I live 7 hours away from them but still in the same state) to attend another loved one’s funeral. After the funeral we got the news that my Pepere’s health was declining and the end was near. I packed my bag and made the choice to head up North to see him one last time. Little did I know that I would be the one that he would choose to be beside him holding his hand when he was actively dying. I noticed his eyes were sort of open, but they were a different color than the deep brown they had always been and they were glazed over. I called for my mom and she told me it wouldn’t be long. She was right. He passed away within minutes.

I took bereavement time off from work to attend the funeral and to process all that had happened. Trying to move forward and to create some sense of normalcy I decided to go to a little café/gift shop for breakfast that day. I ordered and ate my breakfast. Then I lingered to look at what was in the gift shop. Amanda Gorman’s book “Call Us What We Carry” caught my eye. I debated whether or not to buy it in my head. As if reading my thoughts this little old man seated at a table not far away asks if I know who that is to which I respond yes. He then asks if I am going to buy the book and I answer that I am not sure. Without skipping a beat this man pulls out $20 and places it in my hand and tells me to buy the book. He tells me he does a nice thing for someone every day and today I was the recipient of his kindness. I could’ve cried right then and there. This man didn’t know me, he didn’t know that I had just lost my Pepere, he didn’t know I was grieving, he didn’t know that I had come to this café to find some normalcy when my world had been crumbling down. The only thing this man knew was that his kindness mattered. That moment didn’t cure the grief that I was and that I still feel about the passing of my Pepere, but it sure did bring a smile to my face. I believe that my Pepere put this man in my path to show me that he was watching over me.

That day the little old man was a testament to the quote “everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about. Be kind.” I issue that same challenge to you today. Be kind to everyone you meet. It doesn’t have to mean buying something for someone, it could be as simple as smiling at someone or opening the door for them or entering into conversation with a stranger. You’ll never know how your kindness will impact another person. Let us choose to carry kindness with us wherever we go.

*Pepere is the French word for grandfather. It is pronounced pep/ehh. Memere is the French word for grandmother. It is pronounced mem-ehh.

**Sabre cannot be directly translated but is a French expression that indicates happiness, joy, contentment. And it was always said with that disposition too.

To Those Who Doubt Themselves,

Most people never discover how far their talents can take them.

Instead, it is so easy to let doubt hold you back. It’s so easy to ponder if you are smart enough, good enough, or have the stamina to climb the mountain you see ahead. And, of course, it doesn’t make it any less daunting when you have naysayers – people who say you can’t do it. But what I want you to know and what my journey thus far has taught me is that you’re in control of your destiny.

There are so many instances in life where I was scared to pursue a challenge. When I got accepted to an Ivy League school, I didn’t think I was smart enough to attend. When I decided to start a business, I didn’t know if I had the experience or resources to pull it off effectively. And when recently, I decided to start learning how to code websites, I honestly didn’t know if my brain could absorb a computer language.

As I questioned my abilities in those circumstances, other people also doubted me. Here are just a few comments I heard from people:

“You’re not as smart as the other kids who go to Columbia. You won’t do well there.”

“Do you know how many people fail at starting a business? You’re wasting your time.”

“How are you going to learn to code on your own? There are so many levels to it. You’ll never be able to be proficient in it.”

Despite my doubts, and the doubts of others, I pursued each challenge anyway.

I repeatedly told myself, almost like a religious mantra, “If someone else can do this, I can do it too. If someone else can do this, I can do it too.”

I made the dean’s list every semester during my last two years at Columbia(I think). My very first post, when I started my business, went viral. And with computer code, I found a cheap course online, and I am enjoying learning to code. It’s actually coming to me pretty easily so far.

So, don’t listen to any of your doubters. They are projecting their fears onto you. Always have confidence in yourself because right now, you have no idea what you can accomplish in your life. But I promise you, if you take a chance, if you have a little faith in yourself, and never give up, you just might be one of the lucky ones to find out.

With Love,

Dear Sports,

Sometimes love comes into our lives early and easily. That’s the case with you. I remember meeting you around age four or five, but it could have been even younger. I lived on a cul-de-sac, and all the kids on our street would regularly play kickball in the circle. We’d play for hours, sometimes mixing in tag or hide and seek. Without much effort, I could always keep up with the older kids. And every time I tried a new sport, it took me no time to figure it out. But it wasn’t until my parents signed me up for organized soccer with kids my age that I realized I was athletic. I was faster than everyone else. And scoring goals was easy. Immediately, I was hooked. I loved competition. And quite frankly, I loved winning.

While I played many sports throughout my childhood, soccer became my primary sport. I played on club, school, and select teams. Soccer allowed me to see the world, as I was chosen to play on a team that competed as far as Italy when I was 15 years old. Besides competition, sports introduced me to my best friends – many of whom I am still close with now.

I am forever grateful that you, sports, came into my life.

As an adult, I no longer play on competitive sports teams. And I probably don’t work out as much as I should. But you are still an essential part of my life. You shaped me into the person I am today. You, sports, taught me how to push through adversity. You showed me the power of a good and consistent work ethic. Through you, I developed tremendous confidence and mental toughness, which serves me well every single day of my life. And when I have a long week or am frustrated or scared, I can still turn to you for peace. I’ll rollerblade along the water for miles or lift at the gym.

While many loves in our life come and go, there are some rare ones that not only come early and easily but also last a lifetime.

I love you always.

Your old friend,

I’ve been where you are. I’ve always been a bit of a perfectionist myself. I don’t think that’s all bad as we are called to excellence. However, it can make life kind of stressful. Your need for perfection can then spiral into overthinking every little move you make, criticizing yourself for things outside of your control, and shame that is totally unnecessary. You look in the mirror to find that your own worst enemy is staring back at you. You worry that if you make one mistake that people will see you as incapable and incompetent. You’ll show them you can do it all. Until you can’t. Suddenly you feel yourself teetering on the tightrope about to plummet to the ground. This was me before the pandemic started. I believed the lie that this rat race world feeds us that we must stay busy, we must produce results. So I took on added responsibility thinking I could juggle it all and also what was going on in my personal life. But really I was on the edge of burnout. My mental health was not good. My work was suffering. I was exhausted. To make matters worse my boss talked to me about my performance without asking what was going on in my personal life that was making it that way. She seemed to see my poor performance as a character flaw rather than the fact that a check engine light was on, and I desperately needed help. Deeply distressed and beating myself up for my mistakes I ended up with a fender bender. Luckily no one was hurt, but inside I was really hurting.

In 2020 the pandemic forced everything to a screeching halt. I went to my parents, house with no idea of how long I was going to be there. My parents and I were all working at home under one roof. The extra family time was a much needed blessing. My schedule usually filled to the brim with things to do was completely open for the first time in a long time. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I ended up doing a lot of thinking and realized that I don’t need to do everything. I am human, I make mistakes and I’m going to continue to. When I do make a mistake I can choose how I respond. I can choose to respond with grace and self-compassion. I don’t have to spiral, I don’t have to walk the tight rope. A mistake doesn’t automatically mean falling. I started to prioritize more and suddenly I was worrying less and less about what others thought about my mistakes and taking the opportunity to let my mistakes teach me a lesson.

Sweetheart I know you want to move mountains and you will. But spiraling won’t get you there. Beating yourself up won’t make you stronger, instead it will tear you down more. You need to learn to rest. You need to learn that your mistakes don’t define you. Learn to embrace your humanity. Learn to love yourself the way that you would love a friend. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of self-forgiveness. You are worthy to live a life that includes mistakes because if you haven’t noticed everyone else is too. When you learn these things you’ll be freer, happier, healthier, and holier. If you don’t hear anything else in this letter hear this; unlike St. Paul, you can’t be everything to everybody, but instead of being your own biggest enemy, you can learn to look in the mirror and embrace yourself in grace and self-compassion.

With love,