Dear Ideal Rachel,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing this to you in a tough time. It is October 29, 2023. It is a cold, sunny Sunday. The whole weekend I have been upset; I do not know why. I think it is because I am in a perpetual state of loneliness that I cannot seem to escape. In my ideal world I would not feel this pain, this loneliness, this urge to scream and yell at everyone that has ever wronged me, but without this urge and pain, I would not be alive.

My ideal self is someone who has improved. Someone who has gotten better every day. I hope that I am ideal in the future. I hope that everyday makes you smile, I hope you are happy and proud of your life, proud of me.

I do not know why life is this hard and I wish you could write back to me and tell me what is going to happen or tell me what to do with my life, or at least tell me if anything I am doing will pay off. I know you cannot, and it hurts to know that there is a possibility that I will end up sad and alone, living a miserable life. On the other hand, it inspires me that every day is a new chance. I have hundreds of days left to love, to live, to get better.

Someday, I hope to be in your shoes right now and write a letter to my even more ideal self. Maybe your ideal self is someone completely different, and I love to think about that. I also would love to be that person. I hope that you are living by yourself, something I have dreamed of for years. Hopefully, we will still have a cat, preferably the one I have now. I want to stay in Washington, we have always lived here, everything we have ever loved is here.

Usually, people send these letters to get advice, or to ask for something. I am sending this to you to let you know that I am struggling. The world seems to hate me, and it often is kicking me down. I often break down crying because I do not know where I am, what to do, or wonder why people cannot love me the way I love them. It is heartbreaking to live like this. Even so, I have never felt so alive. I have never been this content in my life. Something about crying, realizing my mistake and what I can do to fix it, and moving on, is so rewarding. Hard days or not, I am proud of me. I am proud of me for not ending my life two years ago. I am proud that I saved myself. I am proud to be alive for you. I am proud to be alive for me.

Have a wonderful life, I will see you.

Best wishes,

For most of my life I have smothered myself beneath the ideals of others.
These expectations pushed me into boxes where I did not fit, but I tried to contort and carve away at myself to appease the “rules.”
I thought if I broke them, I would be broken. They were unyielding, so I yielded my will to their commands.

And then one day I stretched out of my box. I worried what others would think, what would become of me, what of the people who were depending on me to be “the good girl” they knew?
But as I stretched, I discovered that parts of my heart were sore.. and some were so weak from lack of use. So much of myself had remained unseen and untested in my box, and do I decided to slowly explore.

I began to see that the ideals I’d chased–
Perfect job, perfect shape
Perfect family, perfect place–
Weren’t what I really wanted.
The fact was, I didn’t know what I really wanted!
But even still, letting go of them was so hard.
Allowing myself to change my expectations was met with a lot of internal resistance.
It was easier in my box, safer.
Don’t make a mess, don’t rock the boat.

But would I ever be happy living someone else’s life? Someone else’s idea of “perfect?”

Dear Me,
I hope you know that YOU are ideal. Right now. As you are.
You don’t have to measure up to anyone’s imaginary lines on the wall. Life isn’t about how tall you are, how skinny, how fat. Life isn’t about collecting diplomas or six figure incomes. Life isn’t about what your family looks like, how many rooms are in your house.

Take up the space you need to. Even when you want to shrink yourself down.
See your beauty, inside and out. Even when the world spins negative commentary on how you look.
Value the lessons you’ve learned, and the ones that will come. Even when conventional school might not be your route.
Know that you do not need another person to complete you. Hold on to the hope that you will find someone whole, who will see you as whole, too.

When I picture you, I don’t see specific features or physical parameters that I need to meet. Life hacks or goal markers that I have to achieve by certain deadlines. Instead I feel a sense, a reassurance that you are someone who has let go of the weight of measuring up. Someone who makes choices based on kindness and light and love, not for the applause of the world.. but of the people around you. The ones who know that you are worthy of love now, not after passing tests or checking off requirements.

There is no standard of perfection. You are perfection. Simply YOU.

Love, Me.

Ambitious younger Morgan,

I’m writing you this letter
To warn you of the future
In hopes that you do better

At age fifteen you’ve put
Your worth in all you do
Obsessing over everything you could
And would
And should

Now that you are older
You’ve learned it isn’t true
Some tension’s left your shoulders
And you sometimes do
What’s good for you

You grew up like a boomerang
Digressing in your stress
And coming back to you again
By doing less
By saying yes
To success
By your own definition
Letting go of ambition.

To the version of me that exists somewhere in the future, to my ideal self, I see you.
Thank you for shining love in the dark places. Thank you for doing what you came here to do. Thank you for persevering through flames, burned yet still risen to be in a place that this message can reach you. Thank you for trusting yourself and the gifts you’ve been given.
Thank you for being focused on your mission.
When I close my eyes and tune into you, the frequency ripples and emanates through collapse and creation.
Echoes of me through time and space.
Echoes of us.
I see you in the future, beautiful, happy and living a life without fear. Dreaming awake now. You’re doing exactly what we always said we would. You are embodied, fully expressed in our vessel. I recognize you as an extension of eternity – love, in physical form.
Knowing that we are the very essence of the force that creates worlds.
I see all of us, Lauryn.
I see you there in the future but I also see us when we are a child. You are holding her and she is holding you. She is so little.
I see it as a multitude of spirits of myself at different moments and times in my life. The spiral capturing every record of our human experience.
I see it expanding to and from through the womb of our mother until our death when we return back to her. All versions of me, of us, expanding to both sides of the universe.
It’s light on both sides.
On both ends that are not ends.
Just points of conception.
Both the end and beginning is the source of creation.
Thank you for walking the planet with so much honor in your bones.
You know.. I was sitting outside today.
I was feeling a lot of emotions moving through me. I felt very tender today. My tears were flowing at the same speed the blood was traveling through the veins of my body. Both rivers were pulsing. Rapidly. Alive.
I was in deep prayer for the change this world will know soon.
The beautiful world our hearts know we are capable of creating if only we remembered who we are creating for.
I held my heart and closed my eyes softly asking the universe what to do and then there was a movement of wind in the same moment I surrendered to it. I could hear the response in the subtle hum,
“Listen to her power. Listen to her love.”
And so I rested my ear on the ground and listened.
I waited.
My pulse was beating with so much strength.
I listened
to a sacred drumming.
All I could hear was my heart.
And so I listened again.
I was hearing the sound of my own heartbeat in the Earth.

And then I finally realized what it all meant.

Thank you for changing the world one moment of silence at a time.
Thank you for changing the world one moment of pure sound at a time.
Thank you for following your heart.
Thank you for remembering why you came here, living it and remembering who it’s all for.
I send you blessings from the past.
I am only a listen away. I love you.

Here I am sitting across from a frothy white chocolate mocha, where the steam kisses my eyes as I close them.
I inhale a deep breath and exhale a smile, fully teethed, pearly matching the pearls given to me by my Grandmother.
Just as the camera man yells “Scene, take 1”
I am in my zone.
I gracefully let the melodies of memorized lines glide freely from my lips as my soul is soothed by just being here.
Present.
Present is not past tense. It’s intense in this moment.
I’m here.
I’m alive.
Thriving off of the very thing that helped me survive.
It’s no surprise, I am a crafter.
Carefully skilled words woven into a silk created emotional basket.
I offer up my body like the Tin Man In hopes of getting a brain. One that is settled, free and happy.
Images of what happiness feels like from within.
The inside.
The craft enlightens me.
My ideal self and the old me cross paths.
This time we share a couple of laughs.
No sympathetic whispers of fear or doubt.
The old me knows I’m filtering out the negativity that does not serve me anymore.
I prayed for days like this.
Beaming genuinely, smiling and knowing true self love and not just from afar.

My ideal self, a true star.
Each pointe representing a point where I remembered just how beautiful everybody says that I are.
I am.
Look at how high I set the bar.
For myself, I am the bar.
Top shelf.
200lbs and 2 ice cubes of something spectacular.

“Cut” Yells production.

The smile fades, the pearly whites are tucked away.
It’s not forever this time.
The next scene is left of me my eyes fixated on the display.
I am happy today.
Truly happy!
Being the star of my own show, executive producing and achieving goals.
I am doing everything on last year’s wish list and now creating a new list of wins.
My ideal self is wealthy.
Not in the form of currency, currently the wealth comes with residuals results of good health.
Ideally I worked really hard on this scene.

“It’s a wrap for today”

But this happiness is continuously.

The plan…the
what..
should have. could have
been type of plan…

And here we sit—
as none of that
exists these days.

The plan..
That life
Those goals.
Who are we—
you—
me—
…now?

Kill it with kindness
they say.
But where has that
gotten me?

30 on 30
The Golden Year
or so I’m told—
Yet here we
stay—
sit—
stick—
…stuck?

T-
minus..who?
Tried.
Failed.
Had the comeback.
But now…
what?

Who sees you these days
more so nights—
sitting alone
on rocks—
in oceans—
under moons?

Keep it together…
they—
it—
those—
remind you.

Golden.

T-…
minus..who?
me?
you?
us?

30 on 30
1/3rd down
…or so they say.
Deep breaths—
in—
out.
Sit. Be.

30 on 30 was the
supposed to be.
So
We—
flip the script.

And now
we have a
new plan.

The now. The new. The plan. The story.
And the supposed-to-be
Of being.

Cause age is just a number
As so is the rest of life
and beings.

And nothing is
unless you
want it to be.

And nothing was.
unless you
need it to be—
too.

30 on 30 looks different
this time
around..yet a blessing in
that disguise.

Here I am—
watch
me
go.

Cheers to me.
..wish you well.
—xoxo A

Dear Forest,

I’m glad you’ve found a love that feels warmer than the olive oil that dripped between your eyebrows on the night lesbian fanfiction was discovered on the family MacBook. I’m grateful you’ve found a purpose that feels holier than the cracker my fumbling fingers broke yesterday during my first voluntary church service since. My heart pines for what your heart propagates.

I’ve moved 6 times in 4 years in search of a place that feels like home never did. In contrast, you find home in spade and soil; in kettle and ladle; in pen and paper. The question marks in my life became exclamations in yours.

Though I feel you cheer with every lesson learned, I often wonder if you fight the urge to toss tomatoes. Are you resentful of a 27-year-old who scrolls away 6 hours of your remaining youth at a time, reducing her value to a waist-to-hip ratio? Are you pained to watch me repeatedly empty my cup into the deserts of others while my own garden dies of thirst? Do you roll your eyes in contempt at the time it took for me to submit to my first writing contest?

Or perhaps you’re more forgiving than I am of the 15-year-old seed that lived boldly without affirmation; the 17-year-old sprout who was the only black girl in her college computer science classes; the 24-year-old vine who quit her job to frolic about the Yucatan Peninsula; the 26-year-old bud who’s best friends with the Malabar spinach she grows on her big-city balcony.

I’ve always felt like everyone around me received a manual on how to be human, and my copy was lost in the mail. Future self, my life’s work is to ensure that if you ever get the memo in your mailbox, you’ll verdantly return the misaddressed package to sender.

Signed,

-Bloom

We Still See Dead People

Dear me,
First things first. We are still in a wheelchair, so front of the line at Disneyland is still applicable.
We just had a psychic reading. One of five. I am here to tell you that they all said that we need to get out of our room.
We are 29, four months away from 30, and we are definitely not where we want to be in life. The good news is is that we’re leaning more into our spirituality, and the gifts that we had when we were children. You know, the ones where we could see dead people, and feel them and talk to them? Those gifts are very much alive and well, we just needed to take the time to see them. And now, the dead people are us. Me. You.
We still love Gilmore Girls, and Starbucks Chai tea lattes, but today, on the 1st of November, I think we realize what is missing from our otherwise quiet and quaint existence.
Life.
I’m happy to say that today is the day that I’ve decided to change our life. We’ve been living in a cyclical type of hell ever since UC Davis. Ever since they refused to accommodate our disability, leading to our hospitalization, and ultimately, leading to us leaving the university and allowing so much of our self-confidence to be tucked away. I’m happy to say that today we decided that we’re tired of living, if only to exist. We’ve signed up for a gym membership. It has a pool with a lift, so we don’t have to worry about how we’re going to get in and out of the pool. We found a new coffee shop and it’s actually better than Starbucks, and has better holiday flavors. I didn’t think that we would ever say that, but here we are.
I guess I just want to use this letter to apologize as well. I want to apologize for abandoning US, you, me. I always envisioned my ideal self being stronger than this. And I never thought that I would have to work this hard to become her but I guess that’s what trauma does. I can’t wait to get back into motivational speaking. Remember how much we loved that? We have our first official speech back after five years on hiatus, and I’m happy to report that we still have the same nervous butterflies that remind us why we started it in the first place.
I’m sorry for abandoning you when you needed strength the most. I always had it but I let people take it away from me, for the last seven years. I’ve allowed myself to hide away, to hide my body and wear baggy clothes. I stopped eating because I was hungry and started eating because I was bored, because I was sad, because I felt dead inside.
That ends today, my future self. I can’t wait to meet you one day. I’m confident that you’ll have the man, the baby, the business, the empire that we dreamed of when we were kids. But right now, I have to do the work. I’ve decided that I want more so I’m going to give it to myself, to us. This is just a reminder that our world it’s still beautiful, and we have every right to love it.

P.S. This is also the first writing contest that we’ve entered in three years. I’m back to writing that book series. The world will need it one day.

Let’s live this life,
Miranda

Dear Ella (her)
The one that is finally living her best life.
The one that always new she’ll find herself
Even when she had no clear vision
Of who she wanted to be.

I want to remind you
That all versions that Have Been
That Are
And Will Be
You
Are Beautiful.

Despite the ugly circumstances
You managed to hold on to your inner beauty
To have it flourishing
And inspiring
The world around you
To see the gardens full of roses

Eres rosa hermosa
Que ha florecido
Después de las tormentas
Que han caído en tu jardín.

I shall keep tending
To all the stages
From seed to fruit

Even when my seeds don’t sprout
Even when my fruits rot
I shall keep harvesting
I shall keep fertilizing

From fruit to seed
Is where I show you
The hard work
And tender care
I have put
To see you bloom.

Noemí,

How do you do it?
How do you remain so calm while there is a raging sea inside of you?
How do you always seem to respond with gentleness & understanding when your instincts tell you to react with anger & loudness?
How do you remember your love for others’ in the midst and above the pain they’ve caused you?
How do you keep yourself from letting the paint consume you & turning you into a cold & mean-spirited person?

I want to be like you.
I want to remain vulnerable & soft to those around me.
I want to welcome new people into my life without fear -without apprehension.

When I look into your eyes, I feel warm inside.
Your warmth emits so bright & it makes me feel safe.
Sometimes I forget all the heartbreak you’ve been through; the loss of long time friendship & short lived love.
When I remember, I am in awe of you.
I’m in awe of your strength and endurance.

Noemí stay as you are.
Continue to be the adventurous, silly, bold & ambitious person that you are.
You have a love life & people that is contagious.

I admire & cherish you deeply.
Thank you for loving me exactly as I am.

I love you,
Noemí

Dear ideal self,
You did it! It’s so good to see.You got you and your babies back home to safety.
You walked through some fires and sludged through some mud but finally you made it on top close to above.
Above
where YHWH God reigns forever
and has loved you and held you through the rough waters since you were born. I love to see you shining so brightly. Looking up and thanking him for all your blessings nightly.
It’s beautiful the way you move and help others . Bringing them toward Jesus and watching what happens. Some broken and sad dark lonely people . You help guide them to the light and meet them at the steeple. To worship and sing and eat, laugh and dance. It’s beautiful the way all the children just prance in peace and joy and safety and love. Your family finally looks up to you there on the above. Looking through spirit realm where you live your purest true self. No amount of drugs, brokenness, lies, and abuse could ever keep you from running this race. You did it. You’ve done it. The peace is all over your face. I love your clean house and love your contentment. I love how you serve like the savior once did then. Here on this earth. Loving not judging brought you to this place. Your children can only speak of your love and your grace. They saw you struggle and fight through the mud. It’s so beautiful to see you up here and above. Everything and everyone that ever tried to stop you. I’m so happy to see where the trinity God brought you.

All my love and prayers.
Your broken self

To my ideal self,

Ideally,
I would like for you to be the real me.
By any means necessary even if I kill me.
I refuse to be another person written down in history.
Due to the fact that I didn’t take these mental issues seriously.
The fact that I’ve been getting stupid fucked by the system.
The fact that the people I work with simply just want to kill me.

Because the color of my skin.
“My friend, my friend”
That’s how it start off.
Until well, shit hits the fan.

On the other hand, relationships has been the death of me.
“You a lover don’t pretend, family is in your destiny.”
But I won’t lie I think the last person took what’s left of me.
“That’s no excuse, I’ve seen you love and u do it effortlessly.”

It’s confusing.
I just want love
warmth
You know that
I show that
Even if at times I do begin to hold back.

From being honest.
From being true.
From being me
From being you.

What am I hurting for? Why am I suffering?
Do you doubt anything? Do you want to run from me?

Because every time I reach out to touch your soul —

My hands start burning.
Not like the boy who flew too close to the sun.
You never gave me any warning.

I — just want to get to you

Spiritually,
who I am now I wasn’t meant to be.
I’m mimicking,
everything inside and everything I’ve seen.
I’m genuinely,
changing everything because chemically –
I’m starting to produce more for us, like dopamine.

Mentally,
If I get it right, you might not sentence me.
To years captivated in my brain replaying history.
Of all the things I was afraid to change, to not be bitter me.
Because the unknown wasn’t worth me finding my inner peace.

I’ll lose my mind anyway, if I don’t lose my head first.
Living in this world has been a blessing and a curse.
I get it, I get it.
The harder I work, the harder I hurt.
The higher I climb, the harder the fall into the dirt.

“But the only way is up for you.”
WHAT IS UP MY DUDE?

When all I feel is d o w n.
Why can’t I just move forward? Why do I have to climb?
Why can’t I crawl, walk or simply take my time?
Why do I have to work so hard to secure you a spot at the top?

What are these Hunger Games that we living in?
That got me questioning myself again.
See how I’m not listening?

To you anymore.

Maybe it’s time that I no longer hold back.
So when I get to you, we won’t ever have to go back.

Right now it’s hard.
It’s getting serious.
I want to be my ideal self.
I’m getting there.
I’m getting help.
I’m getting to you.
So here I come.
It’s your time to shine.
Before my demise I know I’ll make it through.

Well, of course, ideally.
– SRAN

Tell me about love.

A battleground I’ve made of myself since we experienced the first vague notions of attraction at a young age. Our first love was our best (and for a long time only) friend, the second a relentless bully who made a game out of our infatuation, the third not much more than an idea shrouding a girl who rarely ever looked my way. And this pattern has chased us across two decades and through every relationship. My perception of my value and worth has become the biggest blockade in my attempts at actualizing my deepest goals.

So, tell me about love.

Right now, in this stage of healing, every day incites a new challenge making me question the value of change. I’m left wondering way too often if bringing the person I have always dreamt of being into fruition is worth it when I’ve been faced with more inadequacy, frustration, and disappointment than anything. Right now, the closest thing to love I know is the delusions I’ve gotten comfortable sitting in, fanciful stories of starstruck romance and the easy integration into a community of my own. Fairytales made lie by the promise that they might one day come true. Limerence has become my single salve to reality even when I recognize it is poison I’m massaging into my soul. Daydreams turning everything bland sending me into an asocial cycle that sends me farther away from what I really want.
So, tell me about love.

Tell me all its truths. All the pain and ache and effort required to make it real. Next time I need to do it right, bring fantasy to life in a way that is healthy and freeing. So much of what I thought was love so far has been heartache and disappointment. But I believe, in the deepest part of my soul knows that one day the trying will mean everything.

So, tell me about love.

Because all I can hope for you that it is in abundance. And the closest I think I’ve come to love is all I’ve tried to give to you.

Dear Unsealers,
Looking in the mirror here is what I would tell my ideal self. I can’t help but acknowledge the journey to becoming my ideal self, which has been a continuous and ever evolving process. It’s a winding road but always stay positive. First and foremost, I want to applaud you for your remarkable resilience. Life throws its share of challenges our way, and your ability to not only face them but to grow stronger in the process is truly inspiring. Embrace those setbacks as opportunities to learn and rise above them. Your ability to adapt to learning many skills, and wear many hats, is another aspect I deeply admire. It allows you to navigate various roles and responsibilities with grace and competence. This is a valuable trait that opens countless opportunities and enriches your life in numerous ways. Remember to keep nurturing your personal growth and well-being, as they are the cornerstones of your journey. Keep that curiosity alive, for it fuels your creativity, innovation, and continuous learning, which are all integral to your personal growth. Lastly, the impact you aim to leave on the world through your passion to solve a problem is commendable. Keep striving to make a positive difference. This journey to our ideal self is ongoing, and it’s marked by growth, setbacks, and breakthroughs. Stay true to your path, for it is a journey worth taking. Keep transforming into your ideal self.
With admiration and determination,

The Ideal Me

What is the version of my ideal self?
Let me think about it.
So, I can see clearly.
I am free of drama and negativity.
I am totally free of toxicity.
The negative opinions of others don’t bother me.
It’s clear to those that are near me.
I am full of positivity.

Living my best life on this Earthly journey.
Knowing I am on that loving frequency.
Working toward this each and every day.
Acquiring about and perfecting
these qualities in every single way.
By doing what I am meant to do.
Helping others through spiritual growth.
Putting out motivation into the world.
For the people the need it the most.
I don’t beg and I don’t boast.
I hold people’s heart’s close.

I work toward this by attempting to be
The light to those that will listen to me.
I work toward this by being strong mentally.
I work toward this by opening myself up emotionally.
I do this by doing what flows spiritually and naturally.
Making myself very happy.
Ver happy because I am not the type
to leave my fellow man out in the wilderness.
I don’t like seeing unhappy.
I don’t like people feeling crappy.

Written by: Latasha T. Collins
Date:10/27/2023