Dear Sean,

Our friendship began the night we met. It was August 12, 2018 in downtown Cleveland. My friends and I ended up at a table at FWD nightclub with you and your friends. Thanks to your charm, and that handsome face, we immediately clicked.

In a short time, I realized there was so much more to you than your good looks and your sweet personality.

Over the next year, I got to know you pretty well. I opened up to you about my past. You were supportive and understanding. I shared with you the challenges I faced at the time, and you gave me strength, encouragement, and confidence. You also took me for sushi, became my pen pal (exchanging a billion texts a day), and helped me set the foundation for my business. Sometimes, I’d even get you to stop by my apartment just to give me a hug.

As our friendship evolved, you’d often share your wisdom and perspective with me.

Vividly, I remember you once telling me a lesson you learned while serving in the military. You told me you were pushed so much physically in the military that you realized that the moment you feel like giving up – the moment you feel like you have nothing left in the tank – you always have a bit more fight left. You can always go more.

I left Cleveland in June of 2019. You came over and said goodbye to me. You told me we’d see each other again in Miami or when I returned to Cleveland. Little did I know that would be the last time I’d ever see you.

About two months later, you texted me, “I have a miracle.”

You proceeded to tell me, in text, about how a week earlier you had a seizure while home with your daughters. Your daughters called for help and got you to the hospital, where they found a tumor in your brain. You sent me videos and an actual picture of the tumor inside your brain. It was too much for me to absorb over text, and I asked you to call me, which you did.

At that point, you still didn’t know if it was cancer, but you told me, “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I will be OK.”

When you officially told me it was cancer, I don’t think my mind could fully process the reality of the situation. In fact, I still don’t think I have fully processed it. As time passed, I checked in on you here and there, and we chatted about life and other things.

When I first launched The Unsealed, you read nearly every letter, and signed up as one of my very first members.

After I thanked you for signing up, you said, “Your stories are helping people, Lauren. Your strength/story is touching.”

You made me believe that this lofty dream I was pursuing was not only possible but worthwhile.

While we didn’t talk much about your cancer diagnosis, and you certainly never told me your prognosis, you did tell me your circumstance taught you that no matter what, you always have to look at life from a positive perspective. When I told you I felt like I hit a wall with my business, you told me to be thankful I am here to hit that wall, reminding me that each day is both a blessing and an opportunity.

I used to tease you that you were a feminist, but you truly were, believing that women, including me, could be or do anything they so choose. I remember you even spent time on a weekend, helping teach young girls how to code.

Your daughters were your world, and you never wanted to miss a volleyball game or dinner time. If I called you while you were watching a movie with one of your daughters, you wouldn’t answer. Your time with your children was precious to you – and that was true from the moment I met you.

During your battle with cancer, you began to ride your bike – a lot. You decided to join the Great Cycle Challenge, aiming to ride your bike 200 miles in a month to raise money, not for yourself but for children battling cancer. You were among the top fundraisers in the country.

In the most challenging moment in your life, you devoted your time and energy to helping others that were suffering.

Sean, that is who you were. That is who all your friends and family know, love, and cherish.

A little less than a year ago, I asked you how you were, and you told me you were OK and that you were going to try some experimental treatments. Without going into detail, I knew what that meant. I didn’t hear from you much after that, and I feel sad that I didn’t reach out as I should have. I think, subconsciously, a part of me didn’t want to face the reality of losing yet another young person close to me. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been these last few months. I promise, it wasn’t because I didn’t care.

A few weeks ago, I had a funny story I wanted to tell you – a mystery that I finally solved. When I texted you on your phone and Instagram and didn’t get a response, I knew it wasn’t good. Ultimately, your best friend and your mom filled me in. I am thankful I texted when I did, as I was able to send you cards and tell you how much you meant to me. Your mom even said that when you saw the card was from me, you had a huge smile across your face.

I am absolutely heartbroken right now. You were one of the good guys and didn’t deserve a battle with brain cancer. With that said, I want you to know that the man beyond the charm and the handsome face has left an indelible mark on my heart.

Because of you, I will keep fighting when I feel there is nothing left in the tank. I will keep pushing to build The Unsealed, motivated by the fact that I know it meant something to you and can and will help many other people. And I will always wake up every day with gratitude and a positive attitude.

While I am mourning the loss of your life, I will continue to celebrate you through how I live mine.

I miss you already. Thank you for genuinely caring about me. You will forever inspire me.

With love and lots of hugs,
Lauren

P.S. I heart you.

support brain cancer research disease by donating to:
https://virtualtrials.org/strother.cfm or http://www.childrenscancer.org/seanstrother

—
@delanomassey @shelleybrill @kayjahlorde @mehraslam @amazz94 @abbiegwrites @bigstudbundy @lostone89 @willardogan @wilparker1 @andbrill @zaysmith1 @gabriellebeth @ashley_topham @asyk @hue-jackson @dsenlightenededits @jerricaconley @jsimon @johncarubbagmail-com @qcurtis @redskinsjjv84 @okiwa002 @vbrooks884 @oneturbobenz @writingsfromthegarden @jcbcle77 @yourbabydaddy @zuckerman @corriefergusonbooks

Dear Unsealers,

It’s hard to express how thankful I am for each of you. When I started this company, I was motivated by the idea that my personal experiences coping with sexual violence could inspire others. For me, this company allowed me to turn what was once a deep and dark secret into a superpower. While each of you has supported me on this journey, I am proud to say this company has become less about me and more about all of you.

I have connected with many of you, assisting you in writing your stories and sharing with you the wisdom that others have offered.

While starting any business from scratch (with nearly no startup cash) is incredibly difficult, the myriad ways we’ve deeply impacted people have given me a clear vision and pushed me to march through numerous obstacles every day.

A father whose teenage daughter struggled with a stutter wrote to me, “While teaching Morgan to relearn to talk will always be a challenge, we quickly saw the mental support she needed was far more important…There will never be a magic pill, and we knew that. Then, the Unsealed happened. It provided Morgan with an unbiased platform. It was safe. She found a place to tell her story from her perspective. …. The letter, told from her words, has acted like a coming-out party for Morgan…I am not totally sure Morgan even knows it, but I’ve seen the before and after… She has more confidence than ever to go get the life she wants.”

One of our members who has battled depression and overwhelming grief after losing his mom at a young age just recently posted, “Without The Unsealed, I most likely would be buried in the plot meant for my father, besides my mother. I wouldn’t be doing my best to offer my particular brand of hard work to my job. I wouldn’t be speaking out for the underprivileged. I wouldn’t be taking care of my father as he continues to wage his battle against Carcinoid Cancer. I am eternally grateful that the younger you became who you are in the present moment. ”

And an 18-year-old sexual assault survivor emailed me the following:
“I had mentioned that you were the sixth person I had ever told my story to, and I just wanted to follow up and say thank you for giving me the space to do that. Interestingly enough, I did not tell you my story because you were affected by a similar — and yet very, very different — experience. I told you because the way you instantly conveyed yourself as a strong female role model (but also a total stranger) created what I recognized as a safe space. You have no idea how much it means to me to see women like you… I know nearly nothing about you, but whoever it is that you are, you made me want to tell a seventh and an eighth, and a ninth person about my story… I’m not entirely sure where this sudden willingness to share my story came from, but I attribute it to you because you are the first woman I met face-to-face who used her experiences to drive her passion.”

Sometimes simply reading these testimonials make my stoic personality crack. My eyes well up with tears, and my heart overflows with emotion. I am simply amazed by what we’ve created so far. But I also realize that I am only one person, and the potential impact we can make as a community is far greater than me alone.

That’s why I have decided to add a new element to The Unsealed. Instead of just connecting with me, it’s time for you to write to each other – to be the light for one another. We created a community of pen pals – a safe place for you to express yourself and connect with people, most often strangers, who want to see you win in life. You can add friends/penpals and @ your letters to them in our specific groups, or you can post a letter in one of our groups (divided by topics: mental health, chasing your dreams, women’s empowerment, etc.) and wait and see who from our community responds. You can even start your own group. Also, you can make your letters public to share with the world or private for just our community. It’s up to you. Feel free to repost any contest entries into one of our groups so that people can write you back!

If you would like to be assigned a pen pal, reach out to me at lauren@theunsealed.com. In the meantime, please log in, explore our new interactive community and add me as your first friend/pen pal.

I hope you take part in writing, sharing, reading, and exchanging Unsealed Letters. Your words will not only impact many people on The Unsealed, but your truth will reverberate throughout the world. We as a community have the chance to bring to each other’s lives what you have all already brought to mine: hope, love, and peace.

Thank you all. I love you, and I am forever grateful for all of you! Now, it’s your time to take part in transforming many more secrets into superpowers.

P.S. Click “Write me back” below and write me back about my story, any ideas for the community, or anything else that this letter inspires you to share (You must log in and join the group to respond). I can’t wait to be enlightened by your truth.

@abbiegwrites, @abbycashton, @abbykb, @abo, @kayjahlorde, @krisqts-us-com, @mshagrin, @oneturbobenz, @abrill21, @shelleybrill, @cousin-shelly, @marcusj23, @willardogan, @wilparker1, @stevenburkett, @rschwartzsca-cpa-com. @lostone89, @telina27, @ashley_topham, @mehraslam, @lindseylamar, @katiedibs, @edwinbassler, @dsenlightenededits, @gabriellebeth, @hue-jackson, @mindfulstack, @jerricaconley, @jsimon, @redskinsjjv84, @yourbabydaddy, @okiwa002, @vcalero, @zaysmith1

It’s been almost six years since I lost my ex-boyfriend, Brian. He loved me with all his heart. And even though I broke his heart, he never stopped caring about me, supporting me, or cheering on my success. When he was alive, I spent years keeping him an arm’s distance away. At the time, I just didn’t want the same relationship that he wanted. But when he died, I almost fell in love with him all over again, or maybe I realized I never stopped loving him. At that moment, I remembered the roses he bought me for no reason, the times we ran around lower Manhattan going to psychics to see what they’d say, and the comedy shows where we laughed until our stomachs hurt. Brian never wanted to tell me “no” about anything. He always wanted to see me happy. I never really thought about how I’d feel if one day he was no longer here.

Before he died, he made me promise him that I would never settle for anyone who didn’t treat me the way he treated me. He literally made me look him in the eye and say, “I promise.” Now, when I date, and someone falls short of treating me how he wanted, it’s almost like I grieve him dying all over again. With each disappointment, I am reminded of him and how we really did have something special.

While I can’t turn back the clocks of time, I keep Brian close to my heart every day. And when I find that person who treats me how he wanted me to be treated, I will honor Brian’s life by meeting that standard as well.

Never again will I take anyone’s love for granted.

Anyone else have someone in their lives that they hold close? How do you guys deal with grief? Would love to hear from you guys <3

@amazz94 @bigstudbundy @zsigray81@delanomassey @josh-copeland @jim-c @fpjames7 @oneturbobenz @shelleybrill @telina27