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,

To someone who is too hard on themselves,

You must be so anxious and stressed. You never seem to be where you want to be in life. I know how you feel because I have felt this way, too. My older sibling was always smarter than me. As a child, he did better in school than me, and as an adult, he certainly makes more money than me. It is as though I have had this bar way above my head my whole life. And no matter how hard I work or how many times I try, I never seem to jump high enough to graze that bar with my fingertips. And yet, I never stop trying.

Throughout my adult life, I have worked weekends and nights. I have lost sleep as thoughts of work ruminate in my head, and I have pulled all-nighters just because I have felt like I needed to get more done. All too often, I find myself exhausted, stressed, and frustrated. And I have come to realize that those emotions are not helpful. I started my company, The Unsealed, 3.5 years ago, and until this past weekend, I hadn’t taken one vacation.

An opportunity to go to Disney World arose. And seriously, who can say no to Disney World? I attended shows, tried out new rides, and ate at new restaurants for three days. It was so much fun. I gave my mind a break – a moment to live in the present and enjoy the people in my life and the blessings surrounding me. I drove home on Sunday. Now, it’s Monday, and I feel refreshed and motivated. The weekend made me realize how important it is to come up for air sometimes.

For so long, I put pressure on myself and never took my foot off the gas. But that’s not healthy or productive. So, if you’re like me and push yourself very hard, I hope you learn to be kind to yourself, take breaks, and live in the moment. When you take days off, don’t think about work or whatever you are pushing yourself to do. Give your mind and your soul time to refresh, recharge and recalibrate.

Your ambition probably won’t ever go away. But what I have come to realize is that if you want to do your best in life, it’s vital that you feel your best.

Don’t measure your success with someone else’s bar. Prioritize your health and your happiness. And always appreciate where you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going.

Dear Kris,

Last year, I stumbled upon a CNN article entitled, “I have got terminal cancer. Here is why I am prioritizing travel.” The article shared how you were diagnosed at 48 years old with late stage four colon cancer. Despite the diagnosis, you remained committed to the activities that bring you joy in life, which include spending time with your family and traveling around the globe. I immediately knew I wanted to share your story with our community. I knew you would represent what The Unsealed is about: resilience, kindness, and strength. However, there was one result of meeting you I didn’t see coming..

While The Unsealed is not nearly as well-known or as prominent as CNN, you immediately responded to me and happily agreed to share your story with me. You sat on zoom with me for more than an hour and shared with me the shock of discovering you had terminal cancer. You had this proud grin on your face as you told me how you captured your wife’s heart. And you told me about the abundance of joy you experience daily by being the father to your sweet, intelligent, curious young son, Braden. But more than just your story, how you approach life’s challenges clearly came across in our interview. And that is with boundless positivity and a pure heart. When you receive a cocktail of intense chemo, you do so with a cheerful disposition and kind words to share with the nurses and doctors who treat you. You don’t approach work or everyday life with a “Why me?” attitude, but instead, you see each day as a gift to enjoy with the people you love most. You are aware of the reality of your situation, but you do not let it take away from the people and places that make you smile, as you continue to travel the world and take walks on the beach with your wife and son.

After interviewing you, we posted your story on The Unsealed in a letter to your wife and son. Then, you spoke to our community on one of our weekly zoom calls. Your zest for life and your pursuit of positivity are contagious. In the following months, I noticed I became more disciplined about staying optimistic about the challenges in my life. While starting a business is not nearly as difficult as battling cancer, it’s the obstacle I currently face. And because of you, instead of dwelling on what is going wrong, I started to look at what is going right and figure out how to lean into those tactics more. When a strategy I implement doesn’t go as planned, instead of feeling frustrated, I look for the lesson and adapt accordingly. When I interact with people, no matter how my day is unfolding, I always try to lead with kindness. The mindset you have helped shape within me has impacted my productivity, patience, and happiness. And as my company has grown, the process has become less stressful and more joyful.

Kris, when I first came across your story, I knew you would inspire so many people, but what I didn’t know was how much you would influence me.

Thank you.

Keep fighting! Keep smiling! Keep being you!

With love,

From the moment I was born you were mine. My parents had chosen you to be my godmother, a duty which you took very seriously. When I look back you were always there for every one of my milestones; my Baptism, my first few words, my first steps, my first haircut, my Confirmation and First Communion, my high school graduation. You were even there when I got my acceptance letter to St. Joseph’s College. When I moved into St. Joe’s you took me under your wing and made sure I always knew that I had a safe place to go when I wanted to get off campus. You enjoyed spending time with me and even invited me on outings like going blueberry picking with you, your daughter, and your granddaughter. You became my second mom when my mom was 7 hours away.

And then unexpectedly you passed. There was no warning. There was no chance to say goodbye. You were gone. I remember where I was when I got the call. My entire floor had just gone to a trampoline park and we were hungry so we went to get ice cream. I saw my mom had texted me but thought nothing of it when she said “call me.” My sister texted me and told me to call mom. I texted back “why? Is it an emergency?” She responded “yes.” I excused myself from the group and ran to my RA’s car and called my mom. I could hear on the other end she was crying. She told me that you had passed and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I crumbled in a ball. I remember my mom asking “Hannah are you ok?” I don’t remember what I said. I remember my RA, a guy I didn’t know very well, and the girls on my floor coming back to the car and finding me weeping. My RA asked what was wrong and all I could get out between sobs were “SHE. IS. GONE.” It didn’t take long for denial and then shock and then loneliness to set in. I remember after the funeral we walked the middle aisle to the back of the church as a family. I remember everyone grabbing onto each other’s hand, but I had one hand free. The hand that you would have held if you were still alive. I didn’t know how I was going to live one day without you, let alone 8 years.

Grief still steals the air right out of my lungs sometimes, but I like to think that since you have gone I have been managing my grief and learning to breathe again. In the 8 years since you have been gone I have been working to build and live a life that you would be proud of. There are so many life milestones that I wish you could’ve been here for. Still I have to believe that you’ve seen them or at least know about them. Let’s start from the beginning. I graduated from St. Joseph’s with a bachelor’s degree in theology with minors in secondary education and psychology. From there I moved to Southern Maine and started my first job working for the Diocese. 4 years later I am still working there and I love what I get to do and who I get to meet through this job. Shortly after I graduated undergrad I decided to apply for grad school and was accepted to Felician University’s Master of Arts in Religious Education program. In the middle of this the pandemic happened. I began counseling in order to heal wounds from the past. And oh what a year 2022 was. I graduated with my Master’s and our family had a party to celebrate. I know you would’ve been there if you could’ve been. Family was your number one priority. I also went on a service trip to Kentucky to work with the Christian Appalachian Project in honor of you and all my loved ones who have passed away because you all were people who served others with love. We were doing home repair. And oh my gosh that trip was probably the best thing I did this past summer. I learned and experienced so much. I know if you were here today we would’ve gotten together to discuss it over coffee and donuts. I am so grateful to God for giving me that opportunity. I have no idea what 2023 holds (maybe you do….I don’t know how that works), but I hope that each day I do something that makes you proud.

This letter is getting long, so I’ll conclude with some things that I always want you to know.

I celebrate because you lived.
I still grieve because you died.
I am still impacted by your love and kindness.
I will always remember you.
I wish you were here.
I love you still.

Love,

Dear George,

You were meant to be a part of our family. After losing the dog that we had since I was in Kindergarten my mom claimed we weren’t getting another dog. But my dad convinced her to open her heart up again, and this time all roads lead to you….literally. You traveled from Georgia to Maine as a puppy. At the shelter, my parents observed how you interacted with a young girl, how you played with her, yet you were so gentle too. That’s the moment they fell in love with you and knew that they wanted to take you home. I can’t help but believe that our old dog, Lucky, had pulled some strings and guided us to you.

At first when we took you home you were timid, but slowly your sweet, sensitive, silly personality began to show through. You quickly became my companion. Every errand, every ride, everywhere I went you were by my side. Your little wet nose on my face was the first thing I felt at 6am on Saturday morning as you demanded that I get up so that you could get your cuddles in and then go back to bed, and your solid body against my leg was the last thing I felt at night before I fell asleep.

Life with you is filled with more laughter, love, and epic cuddle sessions. You give me a reason to get out of the bed in the morning. While you can’t talk, your actions communicate so much to me. Your cuddles communicate your unconditional love, your paw resting delicately on my lap and your solid body against my leg at night make me feel safe and secure. You greeting me at the door makes me feel welcome. You showing me your belly for the thousandth belly rub of the day helps me to know that you trust me. You putting your nose under my armpit or on my shoulder as if giving me a hug. You have me (and each member of our family) wrapped around your paw. We love you so much and are so grateful to have you as a part of our family.

Love,

Dear Vernon,

The odds of us crossing paths were slim, but the domino effect of connecting with you was life-changing.

When I tell people I know you, their first question is often, “How?” You played in the NFL while I was still in elementary school. You live in Texas. I have only visited the Lone Star state a few times. Our friendship came out of nowhere. It was 2017, and I was in bed randomly looking at LinkedIn when I saw a post about someone writing a letter to their younger self. I am unsure what made me read the story, but I clicked. The letter was so well-written and powerful. It was about your life story. You were the product of gang rape, and you shared your complicated relationship with your later mother. You mentioned something in that letter that you didn’t understand your mother’s reaction to her attack, but I could relate to her because I am also a survivor. So, I reached out to you to explain how my mind took time to process what had happened to me. I hoped that sharing my story would give you some clarity and peace.

You responded to me almost immediately, and I think we chatted on the phone the same night. Then, the Super Bowl was in Houston that year, and I was headed down. We met in person, and you told me you were friends with Sheryl Sandberg, the then-COO of Facebook. She had recently written a book about people who persevere and mentioned you in the book. You introduced me to Sheryl, who asked me to share my story on her website publicly. I couldn’t say no to Sheryl, which led me to write an open letter to sexual assault survivors independently. My letter changed my life. Besides freeing me from years of shame and angst, it inspired me to move to Florida and start my company, The Unsealed. The Unsealed is a platform where people can write and share open letters about overcoming adversity.

Through the years, we’ve remained friends, and you have shared your story on The Unsealed’s website and several of our weekly conversations with our community. You encourage me. You inspire me, and you believe in me.

While I know we’ll always be friends, I still think it’s crazy we even met in the first place. I rarely read articles I see on LinkedIn, if ever. And it is even less often that I reach out to its author. I genuinely believe whether it was fate, or maybe your mom up there pulling strings, or one of my late loved ones, that night that I was lying in bed skimming LinkedIn, there was a larger power play – using your story and our newfound friendship – to lead me to my purpose.

Forever grateful that the stars aligned,

Dear Wylie,

In 2012, I moved to Buffalo after receiving an offer to work as a sportscaster at a local station there. While I was excited about the opportunity, I was a little nervous about moving to a new city that I had never been to before my interview and where didn’t know a single soul. While I made friends quickly, within a couple of months of living there, I felt like there was a missing piece to my life in Buffalo. And that missing piece was you.

I had this strong urge to get a puppy. Besides college and a year or two before moving to Buffalo, I have always lived with at least one dog. While I searched far and wide for the perfect puppy, I ended up getting you from the same place my parents purchased your older sister, Cayley.

As soon as we met, we were inseparable. When you were a puppy, you never wanted to leave my side – so much so that you would cry when I was in the bath, and you would often try and hop in the shower with me. You never wanted to sleep alone, and somehow you managed to win the hearts of all my neighbors, so you were rarely ever home alone.

We’ve been together for ten years, and you have been by my side through many ups and downs. You’ve growled at the boys who broke my heart, and you cuddled with me every day during 2020 – a year mostly spent with just you and me because of a global pandemic. While you like to pee everywhere, marking your territory, and you try to make babies with my parents’ Maltese, Mia, I still love you so much.

You have brought so much love, warmth, and companionship to my life. You have been a part of my journey in ways I am sure I don’t even recognize. And while we have moved to three different cities and dealt with so many unexpected challenges, one constant throughout our last ten years is the love we show and have for each other.

Thanks for always having my back and giving me kisses on command.

I love you, WyWy

With lots of hugs and kisses,

To My Family,

When I was a child, kids in school tried to make me feel Christmas envy. We didn’t celebrate Christmas because we are Jewish. But I never felt like I missed out on anything. We got plenty of presents on Hannukah. Also, the holiday season usually meant a fun vacation: Skiing in Vermont, the beach in Aruba, a cruise around the Caribbean, or parties in Miami. Despite not celebrating Christmas, Christmas week was usually one of the most fun weeks of the entire year.

This year, Mom and Dad, you will be with me in Florida, and my brother will be in New York with his wife. We will have Chinese food on Christmas Day and start our shopping adventures on December 26th. That’s when the really good sales kick in. We will eat too much, and I will complain that I cannot get nearly enough work done. We will send many pictures in our group chat of the items we got exceptional deals on and of our little adventures.

Our holiday season may not have a Christmas tree, reindeer, or stocking stuffer, but like many people, the end of the year is a time for food, family, and fun. And that’s no different for us. Mom, Dad and the rest of our crazy family, I have always loved the holiday season, and that’s because of how much I love all of you.

Cheers to another year of many moments of love, laughter, and a little bickering.

With love,

Dear 2022,

When the clock struck midnight on January 1st, 2022, I had high hopes for you – the upcoming year. I planned to build a new feature on The Unsealed – a pen pal system allowing users to post their content and write to each other. I was hopeful that this would be the “it” factor that would take my company to the next level. I thought I would sit back and enjoy the show once it launched.

Personally, with COVID seemingly becoming less severe, I was excited about going out more and meeting new people. Maybe date someone new – or meet some new friends in Miami.

Per usual, the year didn’t go exactly as planned. Just like every other year, there were some challenges I didn’t foresee. My mother had a cancer scare, and I lost a friend at 40 years old to brain cancer.

It was tough, but I continued to march forward as I always do.

When I launched our Pen Pal network, I quickly realized that we were helping people and had something special. However, I also realized that we laid the foundation but still needed to build the house. There are elements we need to add. We still need to figure out a flow and a clearer user-generated experience.

Outside of work, I have met new people – some were lessons, while others have been a whole lot of laughter.

While 2022 didn’t lead to everything I wanted, I feel closer to all that I desire. I evolved personally and professionally. I have a better idea of who I want in my life and what I need to do to realize my dreams.

While my hopes for next year are similar to those from last year, I am thankful for a journey filled with amazing people, passion, and purpose.

It’s been real. Thanks for the memories, 2022.

With gratitude,

Dear Unsealed Community,

When I was 19 years old, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to chase my dream as a sportscaster. In pursuit of that dream,  I started working at the NBA. I commuted two hours from Columbia University to New Jersey, three days a week, because I was committed. I wanted to network with people who worked in sports. I wanted to hone my writing skills and learn more about the broadcasting industry. This job was supposed to be the first step to the rest of my life. But it nearly took me off course, and everyone, except me, thought I should be thrilled.

While working at the NBA, I met someone. He was my co-worker. We had the same schedule – or so I thought. I found out later that he was coming to work when he wasn’t scheduled to spend more time with me. We got along so well. We could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything. Soon after meeting, we started dating, and our relationship escalated quickly. Within a year, he left the NBA and began working in finance. We moved in together in an apartment in New York City and got engaged. I was only 21 years old – still a senior in college. He treated me well. We had no drama – no lying, no cheating, no bullshit—just two young people who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He checked every box.

My parents were happy. My friends thought I was so lucky. And in society’s eyes, my life was going very well.

The only problem was that I was miserable. I was not ready to be someone’s wife. I didn’t want to sacrifice opportunities for my career for a relationship. My ring felt like a handcuff, chaining me to a life I didn’t yet want.

I stayed in the relationship for four years because, logically, we made sense. According to society, this relationship is what I should want. But I was so unhappy which led me to question myself more times than I could count.

“Why don’t I want this relationship?”

“How come I am not on cloud nine?”

“Isn’t this is what I should want?”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Ultimately, it took every ounce of strength I had to end the relationship. It was one the most difficult decisions I have ever made, as I had to hurt someone I loved – someone who never would have hurt me.

However, I knew, long term, it wasn’t fair to either one of us if I stayed in a relationship that I didn’t genuinely want. In the days, weeks and months following our breakup, I felt a sense of relief and freedom. I pursued my career, moved out of New York, and I have since chased every single dream or goal I’ve ever had.

To this day, people still think I was crazy to end the relationship – especially since I am now 36 and single. But I have never had any regrets.

Looking back, I learned that sometimes we doubt ourselves when our desires differ from the expectations the world sets for us. But deep down, each of us know what we want, and all we need is the courage to pursue it relentlessly.

Be who you are – not who others expect you to be.

Dear Mom,

You once told me that you don’t worry about me because you know no matter what, I will always be OK. You said to me that throughout my life, whatever challenges I faced, I somehow always managed to persevere. You told me you know me better than anyone else. After all, you’re not only my mother but also my best friend.

You know everything about me.

Mom, through all my life’s challenges, you have been by my side.

When my fourth-grade crush pretended to throw up when he found out I liked him, you told me, “Don’t worry, you’re beautiful, and there will be plenty of boys that will like you.”

When my first love broke my heart, “You told me to let it go – not to give him the power to make me sad or ruin my day.

When I did poorly on a test in school, you would spend hours studying with me.

When my boyfriend died, “You cried with me at the funeral.”

When I started The Unsealed, “You told me to go for it.”

And each day, when I share my fears and worries as an entrepreneur, you tell me to keep going. You tell me you believe in me. You give me ideas, and you help me to keep pushing.

Mom, you have seen me bounce back from a broken heart, disappointment in my career, and loss. And while, yes, I have always been OK, I believe it is because I have always had you.

I love you so much. Your support, love, and constant presence are the secret to my strength.

Thank you,

To The Unsealed Community,

When I graduated high school, I honestly didn’t know what to expect from myself.

After getting waitlisted, I got accepted to Columbia in mid-June of my senior year of high school. At the time, Columbia ranked top five in the nation. And while I was thrilled to be accepted, there was a part of me that was unsure if I was worthy of the admission.

I told my family I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t smart enough to go, and I was considering going elsewhere.

My brother, who had just graduated from Columbia, responded, “If you don’t take this opportunity, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I promise you will be able to do the work.”

I trusted my brother and decided to attend, even though I was scared and uncertain if I would measure up to my peers.

My first year at Columbia was by far the hardest. My grades depended on papers, and I wasn’t the best writer. Not to mention, we had to take many required classes – some of which I found pretty boring. But I muscled through it, and I was determined to thrive.

Thankfully, Columbia had a writing center where tutors looked through your paper sentence by sentence and provided feedback. I spent hours each week at the writing center, and after a year or so, my writing significantly improved. So much so that in the last two years of college, I received an A on every single paper I submitted.

It’s hard to believe that I almost passed down an incredible opportunity because I didn’t believe in myself.

Now, whatever challenge I face in life, I still don’t know what to expect from myself. But my experience at Columbia taught me that if I push myself and work hard, I should always expect to surprise myself.

We are all capable of way more than we even know.

Always believe in your greatness,

To The Unsealed Community,

When I was ten years old, I was in love.

I grew up in the 1990s, and like most other girls in my generation, I thought Jonathan Taylor Thomas, aka JTT, was my future husband. He played Randy on Tim Allen’s Home Improvement. I had posters of him in my room, and I listened to love songs imagining the two of us on long walks in the park.

Ahead of my eleventh birthday, my father asked what I wanted as a gift.

I told my Dad, “I would like to meet JTT.”

My Dad chuckled and said, “What’s your second choice?”

I said, “Dad, there is no second choice. That is what I want.”

He told me he didn’t have that kind of power. So, I said fine and told him I would figure it out myself.

Later that week, I went on the internet and started searching. I knew there had to be a way to meet my crush. It wasn’t long before I stumbled across a charity event for Audrey Hepburn’s charity for children. The event hosted movie premiers, fashion shows, and after-parties with child stars in New York City, forty minutes away from my home. The list of child actors had to be one hundred deep: Mara Wilson, Michelle Trachtenberg, Rider Strong, Devon Sawa, and, sure enough, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Tickets for events were cheap – $10 -$40 per event, per person. So, for my birthday, my mother and I got a hotel room in the city, and I attended JTT’s premiere of the movie Wild America. I manipulated my way to the front of the crowd and befriended JTT’s security, who arrived at the theater a half hour before JTT did. As luck would have it, like every other man in the world, the security guard had a crush on my mother. I ended up in the elevator with JTT and got a picture and a kiss on the cheek. And then, he sat right behind me in the theater. I swear there were moments when he leaned forward, and I could feel him breathing on my neck. The next day at the fashion show, the security guard snuck us backstage. I met nearly every star there, and my 11-year-old self was in heaven.

One of the qualities I love most about myself is I go after what I want. I don’t take no for an answer. I believe I was born with this relentless and determined spirit.

Whether it was meeting JTT at eleven years old, becoming a sportscaster in my 20s, or starting a business in my 30’s, I have never taken “No” for an answer. No has always just meant, “Find another way.”

Through the years, the stakes have increased, and the challenges are sometimes even more unrealistic. But without looking back, I have continued after whatever I have wanted in life.

Even if some days are hard, I live life with no regrets, no what ifs or would have, could have, should haves.

And while I may not have married JTT, like I once planned. Going after him, along with all the other things I love in life, has made me love myself and all that I am even more.

To The Unsealed Community,

Typically, I am not someone who visibly shows the world how I feel. Whether it was a big loss in sports as a teenager or in fourth grade when a boy pretended to throw up when he found out I liked him, I have often, without even trying, kept a poker face.

But how I look doesn’t always reflect how I feel.

During my first year of college, I was having the time of my life: a new school, a new romance, a new city, and lots of new friends.

I looked like a happy, typical college student exploring an exciting new world. And in many ways, I was just that. However, amid this incredible adventure and privilege, there were moments I was overwhelmed and nearly debilitated by fear.

When the sun went down, I was terrified to walk on campus alone. It was only a year and a half since I had been drugged and sexually assaulted by two strangers. I felt so vulnerable that someone could hurt me again at any moment. Whether walking back from dinner, a party, or my boyfriend’s dorm, whenever I was by myself at night, my heart would race, and I would feel this aching pit in my stomach.

Sometimes, when I made it safely, I would go to a bathroom stall or somewhere private and let out a few tears, just as a sigh of relief. Walking at night on what was a beautiful and, statistically speaking, safe campus was a horrible, unsettling feeling – one that I had no idea if it would ever go away.

There are many ways I could have responded. I could have gone home – quit school, and simply remained in the confines of my parents’ home. I could have stopped going out and stayed in my room after dark. I could have withdrawn entirely and hidden from all my fears.

But I didn’t. Instead, my 17-year-old self, consciously or subconsciously, chose to be brave.

I dared to ask for what I needed and took advantage of those offering to help. I told my boyfriend I was scared and asked him to walk me home from parties or back to my dorm room. If he wasn’t available, there were five other 6’5 football players who told me to call or text whenever I needed someone to walk me home.

I had the courage to keep showing up, to keep walking, and to ask for what I needed, knowing deep down I didn’t want this fear to hold me back. No matter how often my heart raced or I got that pain in my stomach, I kept going out. I kept meeting friends, and  attending parties and clubs. Daily, I left my comfort zone, which allowed me to fully enjoy the college experience.

While I still don’t love walking alone at night, my anxiety doesn’t reach the level it once did. And because I didn’t let my fear stop me then, I certainly won’t let my fear stop me now.

Dear Mom and Dad,

When I was a child, we went on trips to Disney World, Aruba, California, and Vermont. We went to zoos and parks and all sorts of places. I played soccer worldwide, as we traveled as far as Italy to compete. While each of those memories is special, one of my favorite memories growing up is a bit simpler.

Every day from first grade until my senior year, one of you drove me to school – sometimes a half hour away. I played soccer for teams all over the state, and you drove me to practice and games several times a week. In addition, you also took me to girl scouts, Hebrew school, tennis lessons, dance, acting classes, and who knows what else. With all these activities, it was often just one of you in the car and me. If it were dad and me, we’d often talk about soccer or school. Dad, you’d pump me up and build my confidence. It was in those car rides you told me I could do anything I wanted in life.

Mom, if I were in the car with you, we’d blast music like NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys and talk about life. On one of those car rides, while cruising down the New York State Thruway, we decided the song “This is My Promise to You” by NSYNC would be OUR song.

Those car rides are some of my most cherished memories from my childhood. It was moments I had your full attention – while me and the road, of course. I could talk to you about anything, and we weren’t distracted by other people or the noise of the rest of the world. It was just us. The attention made me feel loved and important. In those car rides, I found a safe space to share my fears and doubts and tell you about whatever was on my mind. Dad told me stories that included life lessons, while mom always was positive and reassuring.

It was in those car rides I learned to believe in myself.

While sometimes, we as human beings try to create great memories – planning big trips or throwing huge parties – for me, the best memories have always been the ones we didn’t even realize we were creating.

I Love you both.

P.S. I owe you some gas money