Dear Kamala Harris:
I’ll begin by saying that this is not a letter about politics, we’ve all seen enough of that this year. This is more a letter of empowerment and hopes and dreams.
I met you, like most of the rest of the world, in 2021 when you were sworn in as the first black American South Asian female Vice President. You are seated as the highest ranking female official in U.S. history. That’s nothing to sneeze at.
When I sit and resonate about the steps it took you to get where you are, it blows my mind. Not only did you overcome being a female in a world dominated by men, but you rose to every challenge with grace, dignity and beauty. You never said it couldn’t be done, and you kept pushing.
This letter is brief. It’s just my way of showing gratitude to a woman who defied the odds, took the hits when they came and kept going. I admire your tenacity and grit, along with your grace and beauty. You’re the “complete package.”
Thank you, Kamila, for being an inspiration for those of us who may never get the highest-ranking position. We will live vicariously through you.
God speed.

Dear Tracy Chapman:

You and I became friends early on in your career. Your unique voice and storytelling style drew me in. “Give Me One Reason” and “Fast Car” were on repeat on whatever device I was listening to at the time.

When I heard “Fast Car” for the first time I was hooked. Those lyrics were so down to earth and touched me in a way that made me believe I could do anything, and that there was no where to go but up.

Even over thirty-five years later, when I hear that song, I crank the volume up (I think I’ve blown a speaker or two listening to that song), and sing at the top of my voice. Your and my voice compliment each other. But certainly not in the same fashion as you and Luke Combs.

Tracy, when I heard you and Luke sing together at the Grammy’s it was simply magic. Watching Taylor Swift and Jelly Roll, singing along, knowing every word, was a tribute to how your lyrics and voice can transform even the biggest stars into your biggest fans. I’m a huge Luke Combs fan so the fact that you and he collaborated on that song was music to my ears.

One of the things I admire about you is that fame never went to your head. You have, and still do, maintain a private life outside your career. That’s hard to do in this day of social media, and everyone wants to know everything about everyone. You’re an anomaly. That’s very cool.

I like seeing you pop up occasionally. It reminds me of my younger years. Your songs touched my soul in a deep way, leaving me feeling hopeful about life’s possibilities.

For now, I’ll say see you later. Hopefully we’ll bump into each other again soon. In the meantime, I’ll be working in the convenience store, stop in some time. It’s just ‘cross the border and into the city.

Dear Jamie Kern Lima:

You and I are new friends. I met you this year when a peer brought your book, “Worthy” in to work. She placed it on her desk near mine and I grabbed it asking, “What is this!”. I was drawn by the title (great choice) and curious immediately. My peer explained she heard about the book and had just started reading it.

I downloaded it through my Audible app and couldn’t wait to start listening. Audible is my best friend. I’ve struggled with reading my entire life. Dyslexia does not have a formal diagnosis, but when I had my youngest son tested for a learning disability it became clear that both he and I have dyslexia. We’re in good company, though. Some of the smartest people in history were known to have dyslexia, and they made it through just fine.

I started listening to your book on my way home from work that day. I was instantly hooked. In your book you described what I, and many other women feel in this crazy world we live in. I loved listening to you tell the story of never feeling that the next promotion was where we needed to go, and all the other areas of life and love left us feeling unworthy.

Your book changed my life. Your words began to make me understand that I was worthy. Worthy of all I wanted in life. That word is in my vocabulary daily. As I work with young women to help them believe they can do whatever they want, professionally and personally. That the next promotion is as much theirs as their counterparts, that they deserve love and being in a toxic relationship is not where they could soar.

When I finished the book, it felt like I was letting go of a friend. But we continued our newfound friendship with your book “Believe It”. Here you brought me through your journey of starting a company from the ground up. When others turned you away, you did not give up. You continued to grow your business organically to become an extremely important cosmetic company. When you sold the company in 2016 for $1.2 billion, all I could think was, “How do you like me now.”

You were told no many times. But you never gave up on your dream. I am inclined to give up too soon. I tend to think I am not worthy of the next big promotion, or I don’t speak my mind for fear of making others mad. Your books have changed that for me. I’m less afraid of ruffling feathers or asking for what I need.

I follow you on Instagram. It’s my way of staying in touch. I love watching you as you continue your journey to help others believe they are worthy of whatever they want. You have a special gift.

Thanks, Jamie. We’ll stay in touch.

Dear Mary Chapin Carpenter:
You and I met (not in real life) in the late 80’s when I started listening to country music back when country wasn’t cool.

Songs like I Feel Lucky and Passionate Kisses were amongst my favorites. But the song I most related to and is still on my playlist is He Thinks He’ll Keep Her.

You wrote that song about me. Every phrase, every chorus, every word was my life from an early bride at twenty-one to divorcing my first husband at age forty-three (slightly off the age of the thirty-six-year-old woman in the song, I’m a slow learner.)

I met my first husband in 1982. He swept me off my feet and I never saw it coming. I should have seen it, there were many signs. I was a naive young girl looking for love in all the wrong places and boy did I find it. Friends and family told me of his family’s reputation in the small town he lived in, over the river from where I lived.

But I didn’t listen. I was a starry-eyed girl, and he was my night in shining armor. Our courtship was short, he asked me to marry him in April and wanted to get married in July of that same year. Looking back now, if we waited any longer, I probably wouldn’t have married him.

I continued this charade from 1983 until I filed for divorce in 2004. He and I had two sons who were the light of my life. So, when he turned them against me during the divorce, it was one of the hardest times of my life. Fortunately, his lies were exposed, and they returned to the fold.

Mary, that song told the story of my life, PTA, carpool and all. The good news is that I am no longer that girl. I live my life the way I see fit. I work hard and am successful in my career and in my life. I love openly, and cry when I’m happy, or when God is close, watching over me. I feel his presence often.

My current husband and I saw you in 2019 at the Infinity Music Center in Hartford, Connecticut. I got a little tipsy that night but still knew the words to a lot of your songs. When you sang, He Thinks He’ll Keep Her I sang at the top of my lungs and cried so hard it soaked my face. In some way, you helped me heal that night. And while the scars run deep, I’m on the other side.

I don’t send Christmas cards anymore. That perfect fairy tale was simply in my mind. Thanks for being there for me, Mary.

Dear Julia Roberts:

You and I met in 1988 when I saw you as an up-and-coming actress in a film called Mystic Pizza. I didn’t really know you, but I was intrigued by the film’s name; I grew up less than fifty miles from that little pizza place in Mystic, Connecticut. My husband used to ride his bike past the real Mystic Pizza all the time. His grandmother lived near there.
I remember watching that film, seeing a young actress with a certain twinkle in her eye thinking, boy she’s going to go far. And you did.

Pretty Woman is one of my all-time favorite movies. I used to binge watch it repeatedly, watching that Cinderella story end like every young girl thought it should; with the guy getting the girl and the girl getting the guy. Of course, having Richard Gere be the guy didn’t hurt, but that’s another letter.

After that, there was no stopping you. Every film you made, to me, was a hit. Watching you play different women, some strong, some not so strong, helped me believe I could do whatever I wanted with my life. And I did.

I lived vicariously through your characters. Notting Hill and Runaway Bride were two more of my favorites. But when you portrayed Erin Brockovich in 2000, I think that was one of your best films. It allowed me to see a more serious side of you as a strong woman with a passion for the underdog. Talk about perfection; you played it well.

As time went on you continued to impress. Taking time to have and raise a family, immersing yourself in philanthropic ventures, and speaking out about causes that are near and dear to your heart. I’ve really enjoyed watching blossom into a beautiful, passionate and talented woman that I’ve come to admire.

I know we’ve never met, and likely never will. But I wanted to know that you’ve made an impact on my life. And for that I’ll be grateful forever.

Dear Betty Crocker: (My mother’s name is Betty)

I met you at an early age. You were in my mother’s kitchen long before I was born, but you were not there alone. Another woman, Fannie Farmer, graced my mother’s kitchen in her small cookbook collection.

Fannie was much older than you. Her original cookbook was published before 1896 for the Boston Cooking School. The book I inherited from my mother was last copyrighted by Wilma Lord Perkins in 1959. The binding is compromised, the cover torn, but the pages are intact, although stained from years of use.

I remember my mother using both cookbooks often. By nature, she was not a good cook. She stayed in a lane of soups and stews that left a lot of room for error without being inedible. Although, there were times when she concocted creations that left much to be desired. Like the time she “emptied the refrigerator” and decided to put shrimp cocktail sauce into my father’s homemade Sicilian gravy. Horseradish, an ingredient in cocktail sauce, gets hotter when cooked. This made the gravy so spicy it was not fit to eat for young children with delicate palates. Epic fail.

You and Fannie spent years trying to teach my mother to cook. While there were glimmers of success throughout the years, ultimately she would not master the craft.

A tradition in our family, as in many families, was that my mother would cook our favorite meal for our birthday. One of my last birthdays before she died, my mother made one of my favorite meals: galumpkis (polish cabbage rolls). She made them in the crockpot (stew-like meal) and served them over egg noodles. It was one of those comfort foods from my childhood.

The last time she made them something went terribly wrong. They were dry and burnt and not at all what I remembered from my childhood. Turns out she had forgotten to add the liquid ingredients to the crock pot. I think that was the last time she cooked for me. From there I would bring ingredients to my parent’s home on my day off and cook for them. It worked out better that way.

Betty, I gave you a bad wrap for a while. Pictures of a perfectly coiffed woman in a red dress with a white collar was what I remembered. Back in the day, there wasn’t all the information there is today, so I drew my own conclusion of who Betty Crocker was. For me, the stigma of being a stay-at-home mom cooking cobblers and pies was not what I was in for.

When I received my own copy of your cookbook for a bridal gift, I smiled the obligatory smile, feeling like I was pigeonholed into being the perfect wife. But as time went on, I learned that I needed you. My mother was not a great example and taught me little about cooking with fresh ingredients from scratch. Now I’ll admit I’ve had my fair share of mistakes, none of which I can blame on you or Fannie. Like the time I left chicken quarters on the grill unattended on low for over 30 minutes. By the time I got back to them, they were so dry that they were more like chicken dust than chicken quarters.

Or the time I made nacho pasta out of a can of nacho dip I bought to get us through a storm. Those who know me know I don’t eat much canned anything, but I don’t like to waste food either. This was my way of using something instead of throwing it away (boy, wonder where that came from).
My husband and son, who tasted it and refused to eat it, still kid me to this day. When I ask what they want for dinner, their response is anything but nacho pasta.

Betty, I am honored to call you friend, and Fannie too, but now you sit at the table with the likes of Ina Garten, Giada DeLaurentis, Joanna Gaines, and Paula Deen, just to name a few. These ladies are included in my collection of over fifty cookbooks written by various chefs, both men and women. I believe you paved the way for their success.

In closing, I’d like to thank you and Fannie for laying the foundation for woman, and men, to create an entire industry around feeding people delicious food to fill our bodies and our souls. Bon appetite (let us not forget Julia Child).

Dear Wynonna Judd:

You and I could be sisters, I would be the older one. I’ve listened to you and your mom for years. Your angelic voices heard on the airwaves of country music. With hits like Why Not Me (1984), Grandpa (1985) and Love Can Build A Bridge (1990), you were always on my radio.

Then when your mom died in 2022, I felt I’d lost something too. But my loss of hearing your mom’s beautiful voice was nothing compared to your loss of a mother and a life long singing partner. I’m sure the whole is deep, and still healing. I lost my mom in 2016 and there are still raw spots in my heart.

In 1993 you released Only Love, your second single. Your voice is so pure and vulnerable. That song moved me. That time in my life with a bit of a fog. My kids were both born and I realized that my marriage was simply my unrealistic fairy tale.

Only Love allowed me sail away from my reality to an island of green and be free. I could feel my feet on solid ground even with the waves coming crashing down. That song was my source of strength during a turbulent time. I hung on your every word.

I must go for now, knowing I can put my trust in just one thing, for me it’s God and his love. I hope you have a blessed day; one filled with only love.

Dear Sara Evans:

In 2005 I went through a nasty divorce after 20+ years of marriage. The man I married, had two children with, turned in a monster, turning my kids against me, lying to close friends causing a wedge that would never be released.

The scars of that marriage ran deep. To naively love someone for over two decades, left raw emotions; some of which may never heal.

Fast forward to 2010, when I heard your song A Little Bit Stronger, the true healing began. God sent you to me through my radio. As I listened for the first time, I sobbed uncontrollably. You wrote my anthem song.

Since that time, you have been by my side like a best friend. Since I first heard it, that song has been part of my music library. When I need a little boost, there you are to remind me that each day I am a little bit stronger.

Last weekend my husband attended your concert in Hiawassee GA. I worked early that day, so I was tired, but I had to stay. I loved listening to your new songs are well as your past hits. But your last song was the one I’d come to here.

Sara, I can tell you that, although I am in a good marriage now, and at a good place in my life. That song brought me to tears, and I could feel your words infusing me with strength.

I’ve got to close for now, I’m busy today, getting stronger. Thank you for being a source of strength even on my weakest days.

Dear Unsealers,
I don’t ever want to be empowered. Please don’t.
If you give me power, you can take it back.
If you find me in a place where I can’t find my power, help me search.
If you find me in a place where I lack courage, teach me something I couldn’t do before.
If you find me in a place where I have more reasons why I can’t, help me discover why I can.
If you see me sitting with boxes of self doubt, with bags of trauma, with a cart full of other’s opinions of me, don’t tell me what you think.
If you stay along side me, ask me what I can do, ask me how I triumphed over my trauma, what I think of myself.
If I understand what I think of myself, what I can do, and how experiences have created in me a richness of strength and emotion that is uniquely mine.
I will know these things are the rich colors in the tapestry of my life.
I will understand the knowledge of myself is far more accurate and important than the things i am told about me.
I will exercise and give strength to knowledge and the skills, confidence to be myself, in every way.
I will know the power that comes from within. I will give myself permission.
When I know the power of myself it cannot be taken.
Please don’t empower me.

Dear Unsealed,
I think about the times in life that I struggled to get through life financially and physically. There are numerous events in my 74 years that have either changed my life for the better or set me back a bit before concluding that everything will be okay in a bit.
Life is a survival of utmost importance to live my life according to my ideals and attitudes about my life experiences, people I meet on a day-to-day basis of reality. I have survived many relationships with men, friends, and acquaintances.
I survived an 11-year relationship with a Texas cowboy. June 2016, he moved his younger girlfriend into his bungalow in Fulton, Texas. I had decorated the house in my boho style furnishings and was feeling comfortable. His brother called me to tell me his brother was two-timing me. The next day my ex told me he was moving his girlfriend into the bungalow, and I would have to move. So, I said, “Wow, seriously after 11 years?” He did not respond.
I walked into my office, sat down to write a letter on my computer. I looked around at my cool new décor and almost cried. Then I heard him typing on his pc. I walked into the living room where he sat in front of his computer, chatting with his young girlfriend. They were exchanging love notes. So, I poured me a cup of coffee and walked back into my office. He had a doctor’s appointment that day. I waited for him to leave.
Upon his leaving I sat down at his pc, disabled his security system and other goodies to keep him safe that I had paid for forever. I got in my car and drove to the internet office. I explained what happened to the secretary at the office. So, they disabled the internet. I used my hot spot with my AT&T cell phone.
I drove home. He had returned home from his doctor’s appointment. He was desperately trying to start his pc. His pc was dead and so was the internet. He asked me, “Why did you do that? How will I chat with my girlfriend?” I told him, “Oh, maybe your new squeeze will fix it.” We did not talk much about anything after that moment.
I packed my bags with as many clothes and belongings as I could squeeze into my luggage. I packed the XBOX in my luggage. He was watching me. I did not care. I was done with his lies and carousing.
I had caught him in lies before but blew them off. We were never married. That was May 2016. I bought a ticket to LA. I sold my car. My friend picked me and my three suitcases up, my camera, my laptop to stay at her place before parting Rockport on a bus to Austin. I stayed with a friend in Austin who drove me to the train station. I rode the train over mountains, deserts, cities, towns to LA. Upon arriving in LA, I stepped off the train and bent down to kiss the ground.
I had been away from LA 13 years except for the vacation trips I took to visit my family and friends.
I was 66 years old. I sold my car, left half of my clothes, my family heirlooms, etc. in Fulton-Rockport, Texas. It was okay because I was home.
I survived other events too after arriving because life happens.
I stayed with my friends in LA awhile. I remember the day I left my friend’s apartment in North Hollywood to go to my son’s house in Irvine. Lyft dropped me off. I stepped out of the car to walk to my son’s front porch. I was towing three huge suitcases, a laptop, a camera, and my exhausted self into his house. I was 66 years old and humiliated that I was there in this manner of unfortunate circumstances. My son asked me, “Mom, hello. What did you do to Mike for him to kick you out?” I replied, “Nothing. He moved his girlfriend into the bungalow, so I had to leave, my name was not on the lease.” I ignored him. I asked him to help me with my luggage and show me to my room. So, he did that.
My relationship with his father ended in 1989. We were 180 degrees opposite. It was a horrible divorce. My dad was by my side during my divorce. There were so many tears.
So, after I arrived, I saw all my grandkids and concentrated on them, cherishing every minute I spent with each of them.
My story unfolds into so many avenues and freeways of life of being in different relationships with different men. I now know I can survive without a man. I do not need a man to create with, hang with ever again until I find one who is creative, truthful, caring and accepting of my ghost encounters and movie dreams of life.
The moral of the story is I do not want to go back to the 1950s when women were the property of their husbands. I refuse to go back. At 74 I survived two marriages and various relationships with people. Why go back now?
She goes
Where she strays
Across the roads
Of choices to take
In the wake
That she is older now
Too many men
Too many wrongdoing ones gone
So long.
She looks around her room as types away on her Lenovo laptop.
For what
To be alone to think about her life
As continues as an older woman
Of strife
Of joy, pain, happy times
As the clouds go away
The sun shines so close and so far, away
Surrounding her body
The bells chime
The music blares out of Alexa
LIFE IS GOOD!
A gypsy soul lives!

At one point in my life I lived in my safe comfort zone, it was a great space at lease I thought it was, it was a fortress it even came with guard that kept a vigilant watch over my thoughts that occupied my brain telling me constantly that failure would come to me if I tried anything new and my best bet was to stay within the confides of the comfort zone don’t dream don’t envision anything outside the zone.

But I knew that I did not want to live a mediocre life but I wanted a life full of extraordinary things a purposeful life staying in the comfort zone became harder to do when there was much I wanted to do and become. Until one beautiful day I decided to take the leap of faith and drown out the voices that kept me bound stuck in time not moving forward at all. I enrolled in classes at an online university and took he leap to get my Bachelor’s degree in healthcare management, I first enrolled in classes not even having a working lap top computer, I knew I had time to figure that out later the classes were not going to start for another few weeks, but the first step was made I had left the comfort zone. I realized that nothing ventured nothing gained the first step is always the hardest. For the next two years I took my online classes toward my degree. It was an arduous journey faced with obstacles along the way so much happened in those two years, I learned many things about myself it tested my resolve and stretch me to capacity. I thank God for his grace I thanked God that he always sent me to help me with assignments when I have confused he sprinkled help along the way, I received support from family and friends that encouraged me when I wanted to quit and give up when the hills where to high and valleys were too low, they kept on track when I wanted to retreat and run back to the comfy zone closer to the shore, not out the middle where the tides and the currents where not always in my favor. Last year I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in healthcare management class of 2023,

What I learned along my educational journey and leaving my comfort zone: is the first step is absolutely the hardest and that no matter what I have something that nobody can take from me, and that knowledge in myself knowing that I can be anything I want to be and move forward no matter how small the step that I can have a purposeful life where I can help other people along this journey and that the next chapter of my story will be better than my first. To God is the glory the author and finisher of my fate.