Thank you very much
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On Mon, Feb 24, 2025, 10:43 PM Lauren Brill wrote:
Click write a letter now in the top right once you are signed in and then you can put it in the “chasing your dreams” category.

Lauren

On Mon, Feb 24, 2025 at 10:25 PM Leroy Bragg wrote:
Thank you very much, where would I put the story at
On Mon, Feb 24, 2025, 10:15 PM Lauren Brill <lauren@theunsealed.com

So for 24 years I have been a lube/tire tech, I have worked some Amazing jobs and never expected to move up, well after my Longest reign of 7 years at a job, I had a opportunity to get within 10 minutes of my home.So I hated leaving but it was time to go.The first day at this new job was SPECTACULAR, after that it was A NIGHTMARE, I regretted going to work, but I was working 5 days a week so I really couldn't leave.I received a call from my job I walked out on 20 years ago.It just so happened the interview was the day we were getting off work early for a Christmas party ( I didn't go to the party) I went to the job was Ready to be a LUBE TECH ( he didn't need what I was) So I figured a porter or something smaller,( I didn't care I WANTED OUT of that other job and I was willing to DO ANYTHING.My boss told me I was to be PDI TECH( ALOT BETTER and better pay) So I GREATLY ACCEPTED.I would quit this other job ( another story) And I'm VERY HAPPY I HAVE AMAZING COWORKERS, I'M HAPPY, and I love MY JOB AGAIN ( FIRST TIME IN YEARS) I THANK GOD for All the hardships cause it led me to my Final Auto shop.I don't know how long I have left to work on cars, But honestly I'm just getting started.PH 4:13 I Can do all things through Christ who strengthen me.

out of the echoing cave
By: Jim Kellogg
(The Queer Poet)
2-2025

the shards of glass
from the broken mirror
pierce the heavy and dark clouds
causing a turbulent storm
overwhelming and
tossing me around without direction
the invisible wounds have festered for years
leaking like droplets from a frozen river on a sunny day
i feel like i am trapped in an echoing cave

then…

i see her
my brave and cherished mother
a woman who shed her own tears
sometimes silent
sometimes wailing
she harkens me to the edge of the echoing cave
there…
she shows me an open window
an unexpected means of letting go

What does it mean to have your dreams come true? I’m from a small town and my entire life I have heard “you can’t.” “You’re from a small town, it’s impossible.” Well, I am here to tell you, it is possible. If you were to ask any 10 people on the street, they would say “I wish I had chased my dreams when I was younger.” Everything has its own way of happening on its own time. And I am living proof. My first novel will be published on May 18th of this year, I have began to sing in public again after several years, I have someone who loves me for me and doesn’t look at me like an object and my family has seen my smile returned to me. Thank you The Unsealed for helping me achieve my writing dreams and I can’t wait to see what happens next!

feb 3
a journal on pursuit.
what if you did? what if you just kept going? what if that dream of yours wasn’t actually too big? that things start aligning, making sense. what if? most people look at what if in a negative light but what if something fucking incredible happened? what if you do in the future, in this moment, for the future? instead of the reminiscent ‘what if’, the optimistic version. perhaps there is no negative outcome of the pursuit of anything. as even failure has its benefits. even failure is a step towards achievement. as some movement is better than none at all. even when its redirection. even when it feels like the world is rejecting you, you are still on the path you are meant to be on, as long as that dream of yours goes nowhere.

truly, I believe everyone has desires deep within them that will never go anywhere. no matter if you try to supplement this desire by something arguably more ‘realistic’, it will never go away. nothing can ever scratch the itch of a dream you have except the pursuit of said dream itself. the more you hesitate, the more you cast fear and doubt on this dream, the farther it will feel. yet the stronger pull you have towards it. the more you tell yourself it isn’t possible, that it’s stupid to think you could have that, the more you will create a pull towards it. so why suppress it? why spend a life going after things you don’t truly want in hopes your truest desires will be fulfilled through supplementation?

most people say they wanted to be something, and decided otherwise as it didn’t seem practical. those people are not truly happy or fulfilled in what they chose to do instead. they are living a life of phony, of pretend. the active decision to not pursue their truest self. how can you argue with your own truth? as if your soul doesn’t reveal its own truth, but your mind will for it?

for years, I could feel exactly in my soul what I wanted out of life. I wished to be aloof in a beautiful way, out in the world, authentically, organically connecting with people of all origins and finding a way to impact communities globally. I always wanted to be a famous writer. to spend as much time as possible creating. I’ve always had an adventure spirit, and a creative mind. I’ve always had a fear or not seeing enough, experiencing enough, meeting enough people, creating enough memories. since I was young, fomo has kept me up at night. the fear of missing out. my parents would always tell me, “the day is over, you can do more tomorrow.” but that answer never silenced the desire in my brain to do as much as I could. I’ve always been so hungry for life. it has always came naturally to want more, to challenge each day, to search for beauty in every single day.

admittedly, I have spent a lot of time pursuing other passions, hoping that my truest passion would go away on its own. how foolish of me. to silence my own voice. to suppress my own purpose and wonder why I cannot find purpose elsewhere? that nothing else in the world has felt like I’m meant to do it, makes sense why now. I thought I wouldn’t be able to be out in the world on my own, so instead I got a job to travel and make money doing that, which sounds ideal. but it doesn’t scratch the itch enough. it isn’t enough. it is not the authentic, organic, traveling I am craving. and it will never be enough no matter how many times I try to tell myself that is the only way I’ll be capable of what I want to do, an easier way out of what I actually want to be out in the world doing. I have always written, but have always put it on the backburner. I have always told myself that it isn’t good enough, that in no way could I be a successful poet, writer, on my own. that I had to have a normal job and it could always just be a passion on the side.

but these thoughts consume me.

these passions consume me.
that’s how I know they are meant to be pursued relentlessly. no matter what I try to do instead, there will always be a nagging voice in the back of my mind containing my truth, begging for my acknowledgment. begging for my honest effort, and full effort towards it. as nothing will work out for me until I am on the path of truth. the versions of me that has tried to suppress my truth are the versions of me that keeps feeling rejection from the universe in different forms.

so, that feeling, urge, deep in your soul will never go away. trust it. respect it. chase it. spend your life not only in acknowledgement of it, but in pursuit of it.

Obligated newbie post..
Hello all. My name is Heather & I’ve always found comfort in writing. I’m an avid journal writer for 25 yrs now. It’s my safe place. I just released my debut book/memoir last month. I saw this site as a sponsored ad on my IG. Figured it was a sign from the writers universe due to the fact I’ve been wanting to enhance & enrich my writing skills. Get back into the poetry era of my life. I’m hoping to find some inspiration & motivation thru this app. Thru everyone’s words. 🖤

Content, a word that strikes my soul,
A whisper of stillness, an impossible goal.
It seems so small, yet feels so vast,
A memory of my past.

Perhaps it’s my youth, so restless, unkind,
An experience that shaped my mind.
Or is it the hunger to strive,
To chase the horizon and feel alive.

What if content is comfort’s face?
A quiet corner, a gentle space.
And yet I flinch—am I afraid,
Of the peace that comfort has made?

Is it the lie of stillness, so untrue,
The quiet, my mind can’t pursue?
A darkness woven deep inside,
Where comfort and fear collide.

Will I ever grant myself the grace,
To rest my soul, to find my place?
Or will I run, forever torn,
Chasing a dawn that will never be born?

So she lived- she didn’t have a choice. It was a gift granted- although there were times in her life when she wanted to lay in the middle of the parkway or on her knees and pray.
It all depended on the day- the weather and the color of her lipstick.
Lately it’s been neutral – as everything she thought for 547 days never appealed-
She was duped for allowing someone in her heart…
“How” she asked herself- the promise to keep her wall up was broken at the sound of remorse -not from her lips but those of her distant lover- the one who saw prey and tried to ravage the Beast while she slept – She gave in. The truth was real. The honesty was from the heart but the storyline line and pity was one for the books, as she had never been that stupid to believe in someone else’s dream- Like- Who does that? The Fool!
Should have, would have and finally did with pain – not in her heart, but in her body. She walked away.
Her biggest fear is becoming cold- losing the innocence- not being able to find that place within her that makes her dance on the rainiest of days-
But she knew it was in her genetics – it was how she was bred.
Strength and wisdom come from silence.

This was written on July 12th, 2019. It was the day of my legal name change. I would wake up that morning as Greg and go to work, and that evening I would go to bed as Lillie. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, not because I was unsure of myself but because I had socially transitioned only 5 weeks prior.
I spent 43 years as Greg, hiding who I was so far in the closet I was finding Christmas presents (Thanks for that line, Steph). I had no idea who Lillie was and I’m still learning who I am as a woman one year later. I was scared of the unknown and what my new role in this world would look like.
After I got home from the courthouse, with a smile on my face and tears of joy in my eyes I sat down and finished this letter. The end result you see here is nothing like my first drafts. As much as I wanted to (and sometimes still want to) hate the man I was, I have been told that I should show compassion for him. For he was doing the best he could while battling his internal turmoil in a world where women like me are seen as subhuman, he did his best to protect me. This is for you Gregory,

Dear Gregory,

There’s no amount of words that can ever truly express the pain that I’m sure you’ve felt these years. You’ve kept me locked up, quiet, ignored, and worst of all – shamed for even existing. You have taken far more abuse from my internal self than is fair, even more than we have had externally. Some people have it rough in life, and you’ve made sure you had your fair share with your own self neglect and self-destructive tendencies.
You haven’t been able to ever be yourself, because you’ve had to be a “boy” because of the way your body has been. I don’t know if it’s entirely how we were born, but there are clearly signs that we have been living behind a mask of being a man. We may never have those answers. I will, however, live our identity as I am, not as we have been told to. That means you have to have the space to grow up and become the woman that we were meant to be, not the man that society says we are.
You have given me plenty of skills to succeed in this life and I promise I will do my best to not disappoint you as you hand off the torch to me. You have given me 4 beautiful children that I would not trade for anything in this world. I want you to know you have done an amazing job surviving in this world that can be utterly unfair and cruel at times. You plugged away and dug your heels in the ground and never gave up even though I know you wanted to.
Despite everything you dealt with and everything you were battling internally you did your best to be a compassionate human being. You struggled sometimes with your 2 but you always managed to find your way through. Almost 2 years ago you started to finally listen to yourself and found me hiding inside of you and I want to thank you for that, I was starting to lose my voice. But you listened and let me start to come out. I know it has been a hell of a ride we’ve travelled, sometimes separately, sometimes together. Guess what? We made it. I’m proud to have had you in my life and I’m proud to have the strength you’ve given me to continue down this path of mine. Without you, without all your experiences in the world, this wouldn’t be possible. Thank you again Gregory, I promise I’ll take care of me now. I hope you will be proud while you watch me blossom into who we were meant to be.

Lillith

I wrote this to myself July 2nd of 2019. This was in the days leading up to my name change. My therapist had suggested some kind of ceremony, something to commemorate my name change. I had struggled with wanting to do something for this milestone in my life, I had socially transitioned 3 weeks prior, and I really wanted to celebrate my transition somehow. My days as Greg were numbered and I wanted closure on that chapter in my life. In the 2 years seeing my therapist exploring my gender I would ‘write’ in a diary on my phone and let my therapist read it at the beginning of each session and that would dictate how the session would go. I had shown an affinity for expressing myself through writing in the previous 2 years so writing me a letter from him to her was my assignment. This would be the very first of my essays about my transition and what we as transgender people go through.

Lillith,

Take a breath. Look down at your two feet. Where are they right now? Look around you. Do you see nature? Go touch the leaves. Pick a flower and deeply inhale its beautiful fragrance. Do you hear birds? Stop and take a moment to go listen to their music, because not everyone is so fortunate enough to be able to hear and enjoy that experience. Do you feel the sunshine on your skin? If not, go step outside and be grateful for the fact that it is constantly shining down on you, and that you are alive.
Life isn’t a sprint, it’s a long race and you’re not in it just to “win.” Be gentle with yourself. Be messy sometimes. Let it all go. Embrace all of your learnings and cherish your experiences because they truly are divinely fated.
No one lives forever so be sure to cherish every moment, and when they pass and when you pass, find comfort in knowing that we are simply souls within these bodies, and we will all be connected at some point again. Life is a gift, not something that is a given, so enjoy every second while you’re here. Make the most of it. Live it to your fullest and please, be true to yourself Lillie. You had a rough road to travel just to even exist. You are valid, you are real. It’s not a dream anymore. I’m handing over the keys to this vessel I’ve called home for so long. Now it’s your turn. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize this was your home and you were screaming to be let in. I know you’ll do great things, and I know you’re truly on your path to happiness now.
While I know you aren’t as experienced in the world, you are getting ready. Soon, I’ll leave full charge to you, because you are the only one who is truly deserving of this body. Even if it never matches how you feel some days, it will always be yours. I’m sorry for having contaminated it with the presence that was male. My stoic demeanor has been wearing us down, and while it has been partly to hide the pain, it’s just as much because of my embarrassment from having you inside. This is your body, not mine. I really hope that I didn’t screw it up too much for you. Wear what clothes you want, because you deserve to wear them. Be the woman you were destined to be. Don’t be defined by my mistakes.
Years ago, I prayed to anyone and anything that would listen for your happiness. On your road ahead please don’t lose hope. We were put here on this earth to feel joy and not be blue. There will be sad times and bad times, and I know that you have the strength to see them through. Look at how far you have come. Look at all you’ve accomplished. Hold your head high! Though I can’t know for sure how things will work out for you, no matter how hard it gets, please realize, please understand that you weren’t put on this earth to suffer and cry. We were made to be happy. So, for me…..for you….please….be happy.

Gregory

I sat on concrete pavement asking the stars to show me a sign~

Snow flakes melted on my lips~
Opened eyes
I knew he heard my chime
The wind was speaking to me~
“Child ~always be kind”

Visions of a natural divine- My Lord did hear my cries

I wanted to be held by thee
A force to teach me wise
My daddy a vague belief
My Father treats me kind
I fall in arms so thought to be something I long to know

Pandora reassures herself at midnight in full moon’s glow

Heavy footsteps led a life in vain
Heartless memories draw so much shame
As only I smile to feed the dreaming tree
“Daddy come quick” so gone in memory
I begged and plead that very night God took heed in the stars so bright
Though disbelieved the sacred wind
To trail the roots that polluted kin
Begged salvation for I reached the depth
To discover the dreaming tree subsists
Nourish it with heart plus soul
Two sprinkles of dreams and three of gold
A dash immortality and one of bold

The dreaming tree lives, the relics unfold

Those who did not believe that night
Heard the winds had predicted a crest moon and rain
When evil lied in rhythms of naked branches

The eclipse made the marked apologize in nodded shame

My dreaming tree had grown all this time
I knew,
I know,
I believe.

I gave my all (so spent) as dear you are to me
The forecast called for a sunshine horizon
Out on the torrent sea
The dreaming tree survives in you
May your daddy be thoughts in knotted ribbons of blue
Your Father will provide for you at times of despair.
My dreaming tree blossoms
I smell spring in the air~

There was a time when she felt completely lost, like a stranger to her own reflection. The weight of pain, fear, and self-doubt had buried her true self so deeply that she didn’t realize how much of herself she had been hiding. The healing process wasn’t something she sought out intentionally—it began as a means of survival, her life suddenly impacted by a single event that forced her to step into the depths of the unknown.

At first, healing felt like unraveling the shredded pieces of her life. She was forced to confront parts of herself she didn’t want to face: the hurt, the anger, and the pieces she believed were irreparably broken, including her passion for changing lives with the sound of her voice. It was messy and uncomfortable, but it was also a raw and honest journey. Slowly, she began to understand that those broken pieces weren’t something to be ashamed of—they were stepping stones to rediscovering who she truly was and who she was becoming as she waded into the deep.

What surprised her most was realizing the strength she already carried within her soul. She found her healing in the most difficult spaces. For so long, she thought she needed to be “fixed,” but the truth was, she simply needed to reconnect with herself. Each moment of reflection, forgiveness, and growth became a step toward reclaiming the person she was always meant to be.

She was undefined by a diagnosis. Her worth, identity, and potential were not confined or limited by any medical diagnosis or label attached to her spiritual garments. She found the strength to whisper to her reflection, “I am more than my condition, and it does not define who I am.”

It was about rejecting labels that boxed her in and instead embracing the complexity and depth of who she was beyond what any diagnosis might suggest. She declared to the world a powerful affirmation: “Thank you for the medical jargon, but this time, I’ll write my own story—one that mandates new ABILITIES!”

There were days when it all felt overwhelming, but those were the moments she learned to lean into kindness—especially toward herself. She found joy in the smallest things: the warmth of sunlight, the sound of her own laughter, the feeling of her breath grounding her in the present. Each small step brought her closer to herself. She demanded that her healing be louder than the silence.

Looking back now, she can see how far she’s come. The healing process wasn’t about erasing her pain; it was about transforming it into something meaningful. It taught her that she wasn’t defined by what had happened to her but by how she chose to move forward and help heal others.

Finding herself wasn’t a single, dramatic moment. It was a series of small, quiet realizations that she was enough, just as she was, and that she was still learning to grow. Healing didn’t make her perfect—it made her whole. And for that, she will always feel a deep sense of gratitude for stepping away from the shallows and into the deep. Her transformation is a reflection of the courage it took to walk into the depths and rediscover her true self.

As you rise from the ashes, something remarkable happens. You begin to see the masterpiece that you are. Every scar, every tear, every step forward becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of your life.

You are no longer the person you were before the trauma endured—but that’s not a loss. The person you are becoming is stronger, wiser, and more compassionate. You have walked through fire and emerged with a strength that cannot be taken from you.

This masterpiece you are creating is not perfect, nor should it be. It is real, raw, and breathtakingly human. It is a testament to your resilience, your ability to heal, and your refusal to let darkness define your story.

Your journey of rising from the ashes is not just for you. When you are ready, your story becomes a beacon for others still trapped in their pain. By sharing your truth and redemption, you remind them that healing is possible, that they are not alone, and that they too can rise. There is beauty from the ashes if you allow yourself to rise up and over the trauma inflicted.

Your courage becomes a light that pierces through the darkness, a reminder that beauty can emerge even from the deepest pain. No longer defined by a life sentence; rather a beautiful masterpiece refined by the inferno.

Rising from the ashes of trauma is not about erasing the past; it’s about transforming it. It’s about taking the pain and using it to create something extraordinary—a life lived boldly, authentically, and fully.

You are not what happened to you. You are the masterpiece you have become, a testimony and alive to guide others out of the inferno.

So, rise. Paint your life with every color of your journey. Embrace your strength, honor your scars, and stand tall in the knowledge that you are whole, worthy, radiant, beautiful and YOU-uniquely YOU.

Because you, dear survivor, are a masterpiece—and the world is brighter because of you.

Dear Former Self,

I know life is hard for you. I understand how just existing is painful. Once you dreamed of being happy, or at least content. Now you only dream of death. Don’t give up though little one. Start believing that happiness is within reach, that you can and will find it someday.

You think you’re so wise, but there’s things you still don’t know. Someone should have told you that what you’re feeling is a sickness of the mind. Instead they let you believe you are bad – antisocial to hide away, stubborn not to eat, and “always airing your dirty laundry” when you finally do speak. This sickness, this clinical depression, has eaten away your confidence, overwhelmed you with sadness, and closed you eyes to hope. It’s trying to kill you and right now it’s winning. But you’ll get strong, find the help you need, and beat this thing back.

Someday those endless stream of doctors will lead you to some good medicine. You’ll have to keep up with a lot of pills, but it will quell that mad misery plaguing you. You will get to know your sickness inside and out, including how to zap it’s energy and hold over you.

I will not lie. You will never kill the beast. But your dream of happiness is still achievable. You can learn to tame the monster, hold it at bay, and when it grabs you, you’ll be able to loosen yourself from its grip. As you grow bigger, it’ll get small and weak.

Someday you won’t be alone in your struggle either. You’ll find love and understanding in real friends and a life partner who takes care of you when you can’t care of yourself. This love will fill your dry well of loneliness and you’ll feel warmth instead of that chilling cold.

You’ll manage a semblance of normalcy – and not as a show, but genuine stability and satisfaction. You won’t be happy all the time, but you will come to a place where you realize you’re happy with your life. No longer will you dream of death. Instead you’ll dream of exciting new adventure lying ahead. Oh, and adventures you will have – summitting snowy peaks, riding trains through India, making wine with your cousins in eastern Europe, skinny dipping in the Pacific Ocean, studying under the Dalai Lama, and so much more.

So don’t give up little one. It may take a while, but some day your dream of happiness will come true.