***Trigger warning***
I have thought long and hard about this entry, the words that are going to follow, will likely be a trigger for so many, but it is my hope that maybe, I can help another feel less alone. I want to let you know, that I’ve likely been right where you are. I’m here to tell you that it’s okay to feel like everything is caving in. That life sucks, and that we got the shortest straw. It’s at that point, we know we are human beings. Living life. We just have to feel it all! Then, when we feel it’s time, push through it. Try not to get stuck in the pain and the darkness. Time is different for so many of us.
My life has been far from easy. I’m guessing yours may not have been either. So we are meeting on common ground. I wanted to give up on everything so many times. My very first memory ever was when I was around 2. It was traumatic. Growing up I didn’t fit in with the others. I was bullied. I had a very emotionally immature mother, and my father, well, he was gone without a forwarding address when they divorced.
I was the odd girl being raised by her grandparents. I was automatically labeled “different” and not cool.
I kept going. It was so hard. In 4th grade, the bullying really took its toll on me when a fellow student put a kick me sign on my back and my art teacher saw it. She pulled me aside and took me into the hall. I thought I was going to be in trouble because no one wanted to be in a group with me. Her words changed my life. She told me that I was smart and talented. She told me to leave the kick me sign on my back and to go back in the classroom acting as if I didn’t know anything had happened. I wanted to cry so badly. My heart was crushed. It was hard, but I did it. I kept moving forward.
In my elementary years, I felt so lost. Absolutely lost inside. Moving on to middle school, the bullying continued. My self esteem was at an all time low. I started to ditch classes and eventually, I constantly messed up all through 7th grade. I didn’t think that I had a chance at anything. At this point, I had some family issues arise and the pressure took its toll on me. I experienced physical abuse from someone in my family due to alcohol abuse they had become a stranger in my eyes. Unrecognizable and terrifying. With each time that I was hit a piece of me shut down. No one was listening to me. It was me, against the world. I was put in a private school for “troubled teens” There were not many girls there but I became friends with a girl that was adopted.
I opened up to her about feeling fat and un pretty. One day at her home, she gave my my very first diet pill. This resulted in an eating disorder, I will just check that box too. So we now have on the board, traumatic childhood- jumping into Child abuse, leading to full blown self hatred and a very devastating case of both anorexia and boulima. I had absolutely no clue that I was spiraling downward in a very dangerous way. I couldn’t feel anything. I wanted to feel something. I just couldn’t. I was absolutely NUMB. You might be wondering why I’m putting this out there for the world to see. It’s my hope, that you will see that you are not alone. That you are strong and you will pull through the storms. My story didn’t end there. As numb as I was, I kept moving forward. I had no direction but I knew that it had to get better at sometime. Fast forward to 15, I was thrown back with my mother. Within the first month of living with my mother, Plot twist from absolute HELL-
I was beaten in the school parking lot with leather belts by a group of boys while everyone watched and laughed. This was typical for a Denver high school in the 90’s. “There was no room for stuck up little white girl in their hood” This was what they told me as they continued to whip me with braided belts. This was an assault. The school let it go. I became a shell. I don’t remember too much other than my mother blaming me for the events that transpired shortly after this. I was sexually assaulted by one of the boys in that group. I woke up in a hospital emergency room covered in charcoal with only a blur of the hospital lights above my head. At that point, all I wanted to was die. I didn’t think that I had anything left. The police had taken a report and my mother refused to press charges on grounds that she feared more gang retaliation would follow. I was placed in a group home- Day treatment facility to address the issues. That treatment facility saved my life. For the very first time I was taken seriously. I was not called a liar. I was supported and safe. I had made it to safety.
It was a lot of work on my part. I still had a many issues with my mother.
Everything was always about her. I’m wrapping this up ending in a teen pregnancy. The teen pregnancy allowed me to imancipate from my mother at age 16. I want you to believe that you can break your family generational curses/cycles and life may be hard but I can promise you there is a light. The fight and the struggle are very important. They make us who we are.
I believe in you. In fact, a whole lot of us Unsealers do. You are amazing. You are smart, you are strong, you have a bright future ahead. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. You will change the world. I will be over here, a stranger, in the stands rooting for you. 💜 Just believe in every aspect of YOU. You will pull through. You are not alone and you are already doing such great things. Most importantly, thank you for being you.

Rise and shine you beautiful soul!
We have work to do today.
Roll that delicate body out of bed and awaken to the day of wonders ahead.
Today, feels like a good day. I Declare it, embrace it and give thanks.
It’s the perfect day to live.
I am embracing the relaxation and peace that has been gifted to me on such a beautiful morning.
I stretch, and sit up, wiggling my my toes as my legs hang down from my bed. A giggle escapes my lips followed by a smile as my dog mimics me. She nudges me and lets me know that it is time to officially wake up.
I step off of my bed and stand tall. There’s no pain at all. No tingling, no burning, no stiffness at all.
I am at peace. I playfully ask my kitty Nirvana -“Do I choose coffee, or green tea?” She meows back at me. I dance around the the kitchen and I embrace being pain free. There is no stress or struggle as I start my daily chores. You may think this sounds silly, the happiness that bending down brings me as I slide on my shoes. I did it absolutely pain free and that is perfect. It’s perfect for me.
The sun is shining so bright, and I put the leash on my dog. Bieng pain free, has blessed me with a morning walk.
I have energy!
Enough energy to conquer the world, well, that is, enough energy to conquer “My world” or, at least to conquer the tasks that most days I am unable to. Today, I am pain free, and it is absolutely perfect.
I think it’s a good day to go to the gym. Perfect day, that is.
I grab my bag, my book, headphones and my water bottle.
I’m a little bit nervous that this may not last, but quickly push the thoughts away. As today, this moment I am pain free, and today is the perfect day.
My body moves freely, and with each breath that I take I am breathing in love and gratitude. These days are few and far between. Today, I woke up pain free.
I am able to grocery shop without any fears or anxiety. There is no looking over my shoulder I am in the moment. I am safe, and I am living life peacefully. Today, I give thanks for walking up pain free.
I am able to walk the three flights of stairs to visit my grandmother. We’re going to have lunch and play some games. Her company and her smile bring me so much comfort. I’m giving thanks, for such a perfect day.
I woke up pain free. I woke up with the chance to show the world the actual me. With a smile on my face, and my posture upright. I am filled with gratitude and peace. I am grateful for my life.
The perfect day for me, means living without pain.
Without tears, and strain. Oh how I am grateful when I am blessed with a perfect pain free day.
🙏

I have spent most of my life trying to learn how to love myself.
After leaving an abusive relationship in January of 2001 I was a complete mess. I was a single mother of three little ones that needed me to pull through. There you will find your strength. Someone, somewhere, still loves you. Deep into your core. Do not be afraid to be who you are, because YOU are love.
I started to write poetry.
One lonely night, after my kids were in bed, I started to reflect. The darkness seemed to slowly fade away, and the following words flowed freely, and opened up my closed heart.
I felt compelled to share it with The Unsealed family. Here goes my heart.
Someone, somewhere out there loves you. They love you for who you are, and they love you for your heart. They love you for everything that you stand for, and that you believe in. They do not hurt you, but encourage you to follow your dreams. They will not tear you down, but will wipe away the tears. when you are too weak from crying, they will hold you. When you feel as if your heart is breaking, and you do not think that you can go on, there, you will find your inner strength. Your power, your truth. do not ever be afraid, to be who you truly are. YOU are loved by you.
You will embrace the changes, the struggles and those pains. Please, don’t you ever feel like you need to change to be loved. Love is who you are.
Your road has been hard. It has been paved with loneliness.
If being lonely is what it takes to find YOU again, then let it be. Don’t be afraid to travel this world alone. take time to observe all of humanity.
You have found that we are all different on the outside, but we all bleed the same. Broken people will hurt you often due to their own pains. You will learn to spot them. Careful who you let in. Do not be cold, that is not who you are. Expand love within.
When all is said and done, you will find that you have walked many journeys in solitude. Alone. You have learned that people, are people, they trip up just like you. You have learned that holding onto bitterness, and anger is a huge mistake. It will only hurt you. Knowing that you are unstoppable. You keep moving on. At the end of the road, you will find that someone, somewhere, has been with you through the battles and that they have loved you all along…

I wrote these words the night that I found myself again. When I realized that all I needed to do was to love myself. It is still an every day battle at times, but I love the woman that I have become. Thank you for reading. I hope that it makes a bit of sense to someone.

I’m grateful for my life even when I can’t quite feel my purpose. I somehow just know that is a gift. The colors of the sky and the beauty of nature each morning when I wake.
I’m grateful for my Grandmother and her loving arms and guidance. For her health and her unconditional love. Her arms and her hugs. Her wisdom and her patience.
I’m grateful for my grown children, each day my heart swells even more with pride.
I’m grateful for the hugs, the hikes,and the laughter as well as the memories that we have all shared. I’m grateful for the man that stands by my side who stepped up when the others stepped away. He stayed. He stayed.
I’m grateful for my pets, for the soft and gentle kisses and nudges of support when I am often too overwhelmed and emotional to see the bright side. They pull me back and ground me. It’s unconditional love at the finest.
I’m grateful for my GOD next without him, I wouldn’t be here today. I’m grateful for second chances and the lessons that I have learned along the way.
I’m grateful for the birds and the wild animals as they sing their beautiful songs.
I’m grateful for the Drs that fix me when I can’t go on.
I’m grateful for the strangers that become friends and the presence of angels in my time of need.
I’m grateful for family. Distant and close by. I’m grateful for my beautiful cousin. She is my hero. She saved my heart and gave me peace when I was absolutely dying inside.
I’m grateful for my kind heart, and for my strength. For being determined to survive.
I’m grateful for the dreamers. The encouragers and those that gently push.
I’m grateful for my counselor as she helps me take my control back and gives me the confidence to keep pushing on.
I’m grateful for the unsealed family who write the tender and vulnerable stories from their hearts.
I’m grateful for their transparent and beautiful hearts.
🤍

I have dreamed forever about moving forward with my writing career.
There were many different times in my life that writing got me through the pot holes and broken hearts, but somewhere in between different life lessons started to dim my voice and little by little, I gave up and decided to take a different path. My college major was assigned and I became engulfed in Psychology. After all, the world would always need my expertise and empathy. I had life skills to add to the process and my own obstacles that I was trying to navigate but I knew that I was going to get that degree. I was SO wrong.
As classes came and went I started to feel like each day was the same thing, same lectures, same people and the homework? Don’t even get me started on the 20 plus page essays that my brain started to struggle to complete. I had always wanted to help others, but my heart was just not in the classes. I started to slowly daze off in class and at the ticking of the large white and black clock on the wall became the most annoying sound. The other students were almost always arguing and debating creating a not so zen environment for my PTSD. I had do to something. I was paying a fortune for these classes, but I didn’t see or feel a future for myself. I ended my college career that semester. I immediately felt like a failure and started to slowly give up on everything. I lost my zest for life and spent most days sleeping while my kids were in school. A visit to my Dr would later show a diagnosis of permanent and untreatable depression from a closed head injury that I had a few years back from domestic violence.
Tests down the road would also bring about a major life change. I was diagnosed with a TBI.
I had a permanent bruise on my brain. All I could do was move forward with the physical therapy and counseling. I was shattered when they told me I likely would need to be put into learning disabled assistance if I decided to return to college. After the realization that I was going to need a bit of extra assistance in my classes, I ended my dreams officially of finishing my degree.
Fast forward to trying to hold down two jobs and deal with an emergency with my three children I had to leave employment. My head was spinning. Thoughts racing and I was always on the go. I carried a notebook in my car and would jot down little clusters of thoughts as they would come to me in moments of quiet reflection. ( That notebook was later lost in a move) Strike 3… You’re out!
There was an ache in my heart but never a good time to start writing again. The negative thoughts were always there. You can’t write, you couldn’t even make it through college. He was right, you’re stupid and going nowhere with life- You’re writing is not as good as the professional writers out there… We all know that voice. The one that laughs at us and tells us we are not good enough. The echo of anger and of self doubt was ALWAYS there.
Then, one night, scrolling through my phone I found the ad. I hit the follow button and went on with my every day things. Each night, I would go to that page on Instagram .You guessed it! This one. I clicked through the profile and decided to reach out VIA direct message.
The first conversation went something like this.
“Hello, are you a legit person?” I hit the send and anxiously waited a response. It was only a few seconds and Lauren messaged me back. I asked so many questions. My heart wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. 5.00 was the minimum monthly payment and I made up excuses each time and talked myself out of hitting that join us button.
Until one evening I was on and received a message. “Have you joined us yet?” It was Lauren I told her no and that we didn’t have the 5.00 but that I was still thinking about it.
There was absolutely no pressure. I felt so comfortable with the vibes of The Unsealed and a few days later, in the middle of the night suffering through a bout of flashbacks and anxiety I hit that button. I joined for the minimum and I looked around. It was beautiful. Everything was so pure, so raw and so honest.
At 1:30 am MST I stepped out of my comfort zone and I wrote my first entry. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off of my chest. I was home. I was safe to write out things that I had held in for years and there were others just like myself. We were a group of people that all survived different life obstacles and traumas and we were all in a way connected. I have never looked back and try to write now whenever I get the chance. Lauren and the Unsealed family have helped me heal and find my voice again. I couldn’t have done it if I had not taken that first tiny step out of my comfort zone and for that, I am so grateful.
Thank you to all of you, for helping me through this last few months.
My lips have finally become unsealed.

Why am I worthy of the utmost respect?
This can only be answered with a short summary that is very emotional.
I was an unwanted, and unexpected baby, born to a young mother that didn’t really want to be a mother. I’m told that my mother left me in wet diapers, that burned my sensitive baby skin with urine. I’m told that she left me crying and did not meet my emotional needs. This was proven to be the case.
I was bounced around and handed over to anyone that would take care of me and to many that didn’t.
Due to this, I was unable to form bonds, or form healthy connections to others because I didn’t feel safe. That’s the easy and less painful way to put it into words. I never believed that I had a purpose. Until my grandparents decided that enough was enough. I’m told that my grandfather saw something special in me, and that he believed that I could break the family cycle if he were to take custody of me. That my friends was the beginning of the rest of my young life. It wasn’t easy growing up in a very broken environment. I have been in therapy since I was 4. Unfortunately, I had to do some of it with a very detached mother. At that point, one starts to realize that they have to protect themselves. That they have to be strong. Also, that they are worthy of love. It’s not easy at all, in fact, it’s one of the loneliest battles to fight. My best friends became my stuffed animals in my bedroom and each day I would line them up in my room and ask them how we could solve the problems of the day. A bad visit with my mother? Check! I was a bad girl today. Check. I didn’t know which end was up many days because my decisions were made for me in court by a judge. I had to have the visits that would lead me deeper into the spiral of self confusion and insecurities.
I spent most of my young life trying to gain the approval of my mother. Instead, I became her biggest disappointment which she would almost always let me know. Michelle, why can’t you be more like your sister. You’re such a wimp. Such a cry baby, overly sensitive etc. Her words burned into my heart and I couldn’t quite figure out how I was so different from others. Generational Trauma is real. Also known as generational curses. Breaking that cycle is very hard. I fought for years. I fawned, and I tried to be the image of what my mother wanted me to be. I am now 45 years old, and both my grandfather, and my mother have passed away. I lost my mother in 2019 and we were estranged at the time of her passing. When all of the painful memories start to rest their ugly heads it is my Grandma who encourages me now. She supports me and when I cry to her, I tell her I feel as if I am just floating here on earth, it is her words that keep me going. I no longer float along this life because I know that I was born to fly. We all deserve respect. We are all worthy of love. We are all beautiful hearts and our purpose is to try uplift the broken. To love the unloved. To encourage the hopeless and to help others accept who they are with no judgement.
That my friends makes me worthy of the utmost respect. The journey that I have fought through the last 45 years.
*Hopefully this writing makes sense and touches souls.
Trauma has taught this woman that she deserves nothing more than 100% respect. We all deserve the utmost respect.

Shelle Belle

Dearest Shelle Belle,
I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself. You’re learning and moving forward making the best of each new day. It’s 1993 and you have entered into the next stages of your life. Your music selection is a wide variety of artists, which speaks volumes of who you are. As you walk down the graffiti tagged streets of Denver you hold your head high even though the environment around you feels unsafe and scary, you keep pushing forward with your dreams. These streets will never break you. You have so much to accomplish. Follow your dreams. Be your own hero. Keep moving forward. They tried to dim your light when they assaulted you, but you pushed through. You never gave in. You never gave up, and for that my friend you grew into the beautiful and amazing you. A young mom at 16, just a baby yourself. You continued to grow. I’m proud of you.
For motherhood is tough enough even when one is ready. You took it on. Life stops for no one. Each day a new adventure. Smile, but also honor the tears that you shed when you feel lost in your head. There is clarity ahead. You just have to believe.

I don’t know if you will remember me, but I wanted to let you know, I will never forget you. I was the young mother trying so desperately to survive. Hands holding on to my two little boys, and a car seat at my feet, and had my little ones so closely by my side as I checked into the hotel.
I was exhausted and I was terrified. I think you saw my blacked eye through the makeup that I tried so hard to hide from the world. I only had cash, as he was closely watching our bank account.
The woman working the front desk looked down on me and rolled her eyes when I tried to explain that I didn’t have a credit card or debit card for personal reasons, but I promised I was not going to throw any destructive party’s with my babies in tow. The truth is, I didn’t know who I could trust. I just wanted to rest. I wanted to feel secure, and to hold my babies tightly at night instead of standing watch for the headlights to pull into the driveway bringing home a drunken monster. Anyways, enough of that. You stood up from your chair, and you approached the impatient lady with your credit card. You sternly told her to “put a week on your tab” My jaw must have hit the floor because you put your hand on my shoulder ever so gently, and ushered me aside to where your beautiful wife and daughter were sitting. She picked up the car seat and walked with me to the elevator. It was unreal. The silence. You handed me my room card, and softly asked me if someone I loved had left those marks on my body. Through tears, I could only nod my head. They wouldn’t stop coming down. Your beautiful wife held me in her arms. She told me to “let it all out” that I was safe from harm. You explained to me that you held a high position in the local church, and that you and your family were staying at the hotel because your home had flooded. You placed something in my hand, and we parted ways. The next morning, there was a bag of groceries at my door. There was clothes for my kids, and a few items that I needed for myself. The morning after that, a beautiful basket of fruit with a note that said- you are so loved. The morning after that, donuts for us. Each morning, a new blessing was left at my door. My week ran out, and I had to go. I never saw you, or your beautiful wife. I didn’t even know which room was yours. When I checked out, there was no information on the sheet for billing and privacy purposes, they had to cover it with something before I received my copy. I never got to say thank you. For the time I had in that hotel was the most beautiful and relaxing of times. I was able to find clarity. I was able to think about my future for the very first time since the local shelter told me they only had room for myself and one child- I thank you kindly and Sir. With all of my heart. You, and your beautiful wife. For being my Angel. In my darkest time.
Because of you, I am safe. I am strong. You showed me that there was kindness. Many years later, I think of you, I think of her as I do my very best to create special gift bags for the victims and their children as they enter into what is the scariest of times. Thank you again, for your beautiful light. Grateful beyond words,
– Michelle

Kindness has been hidden, everyone is so guilt ridden and full of fear. Believe in your neighbors. Reach out to someone that is struggling.Check on your friends daily. Be the example of love. In my bubble, I feel that judgement is far too common, jealousy is a curse and that negativity is contagious. Greed and power are handed out to those who abuse their privileges loudly. I would love to see a world where you are safe to speak out about your insecurity and weakness instead of the movie and make believe kind of violence and drama each day. Encourage those who are confused and help them find their way back to their truth. Help the less fortunate, but do not make it a dependable process. TEACH instead of preach. Understand that success is not measured by wealth, but by soul. The change starts with our hearts. I would love to see more education and encourage self sufficiency in learning, not just brain skills. It is true, most of us with a college education have spent thousands only to feel lost at the very end. Partner violence is huge, yet there are not enough resources to help those post abuse. I am trying to change that. Beautiful hearts are overwhelmed and overlooked often. A good deed is taken wrong or mistaken for greed. It is run by fear. The news, is never good news anymore. It only focuses on the darker parts of life. Let’s tell the world of the heros and the dreamers. The good deeds and the pure hearts. Instead of selling the darkness that feeds the depressed. I dream of communication and community instead of corruption and conspiracy.
Reach out a hand to another need. Support and listen to another’s dream. If you can help encourage anyone do that. Be a stepping stone to build another up. Not step on their heart. Believe that change is possible. Believe that we can all be the change. I’d love to see no more wars or fighting. No crime or hate. Maybe just maybe if we took a step back and opened our inner hearts we could understand better.
Fundraise to make a change for what you believe in. Speak your truth proudly without shame or blame. Believe that each of us are capable to bring about a better world in our own special ways. We can all be the change.