My little sunflower seed,

Losing you was one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. I have been wanting to be a Mom as long as I can remember. When we found out I was pregnant, we couldn’t believe it was actually happening! Your Daddy and I were so happy and excited and right away started to think about what you would be like. When I started reading some things about pregnancy, I found out that at that time you were the size of a sunflower seed. For some reason, we started referring to you as our little sunflower seed. While it was silly, the nickname stuck.

Sadly only a couple of weeks later, the worst thing that could have happened did. We lost you. Although you may have not been a part of me for very long, I still loved you just as much as if I had carried you for 9 months. The whole experience of having a miscarriage was terrible. It was a constant, physical reminder that you were no longer with us. I was just so incredibly sad and felt like my body had let me down. The doctors were so medical about it all. Telling me things like: “This happens 1 in 5 pregnancies”, “It was your body’s way of knowing something was wrong” and “Hopefully next time you will come out on the other side of things”. I don’t care how often this happens; it doesn’t make me miss you any less. 

Although I am hopeful that someday I will be a Mom, there will never be another first. You were my first pregnancy and will always be my first baby. I would have given you the world and loved you more than anything. I hope you know that I would give everything to still have you growing inside me. “If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.”

Love you forever and not a day less,
Mommy, age 28

Dear Ross,

I am writing this letter to you because I have no idea how to get through to you. You never seem to be ok with yourself, or how you’ve turned out in life, and you always seem to be looking for something wrong with the way things are. You can never just accept things on face-value and always look for deeper meanings when often there aren’t any. Sometimes life just “is”. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, it just is. People will say things to you without having any sort of ulterior motive; they are just concerned for your general well-being. Whilst this is not always the case, you have to accept that these things do actually happen, so don’t twist things around in your head and get yourself all worked up about it. 

I need you to understand that you are ok. You have your ups and downs, but you’re ok. Just try to relax a little and enjoy the life that you have. Go out there, be yourself and love who you are. By loving yourself, hopefully someone else will learn to love you too. I know you feel alone, but you’re not. You have friends and family who love you dearly.

I know you don’t think you’re the “nice guy” that 95% of people get to see. You think that you’re really living in that 5%, and what everyone else see’s is a lie. I can tell you right now, that’s not true. You really are a nice guy. Yes, you’ve made some mistakes. Done things that you regret, unintentionally hurt people that didn’t deserve it, and said things that you should have kept to yourself. The important thing is to accept that this has happened, and learn from it. Instead of calling them “mistakes”, call them “experiences” instead.

I know right now you don’t feel ok. You’re back in that rut, thinking that every time you get climb out of this hole and start to feel ok with yourself, someone or something seems to kick you off the edge and you’re falling right back down there again. The important thing to remember, is to never give up climbing out of that hole. Eventually you’ll make it, and find someone to help you fill that hole in once and for all so that you never fall down it again.

I’m sorry that I haven’t always been there to help you, and that this letter makes no sense. It’s very hard to write this to you. So many things I’ve been thinking for quite some time, but never figured out how to tell you. Hopefully you will read this and understand. 

I know that you’ll be ok. I know this because I know you better than you think. I know this, because I am you. I understand this place is for writing letters to people you feel you cannot contact, or have lost. I am writing this to you on here because I feel like I’ve lost you somewhere in that mind of ours. Please come back to me, I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.

Sincerely,
Your scattered mind, age 25

Dear Dad,

You always encouraged me to tell you whenever I got overwhelmed over something. But I rarely did. Just by bottling all my emotions inside, good or bad, my behavior started to change and you all noticed. I did little talking, and isolated myself from you and everybody else. Sitting in the corner of the living room writing in my journal, while you guys were watching movies.  I felt weird in my own home. I felt like a screw up, never doing or saying anything right. And I never thought otherwise. 

Then I started to act different at school. Not by much, though, still the same 13 year old girl. But I stopped asking questions, I slacked off, and I somewhat changed people’s opinions on me. I never wanted to be judged by people I barely knew, but that’s what was happening. I regret not telling you how I was feeling in the first place. At school I felt like the nerdy perfectionist and at home I felt like the big sister who couldn’t do anything right. It was all enough to make me cry in my room with the door locked.

But of course you never knew because I kept it to myself. I felt worthless and I didn’t want to be in this world anymore. I pushed myself more and more not allowing myself to breathe. I wanted to be the perfect daughter that you would ALWAYS be proud of. But that wasn’t happening. But here I am, trying as hard as I can. And I am still trying to be an awesome role model to my little sister. So don’t worry. This year is going to be a fresh start. I will be an eighth grader and I will make you proud.

Love,
Your Daughter, age 13

Dear D,

It is almost two years since we met each other. I’ll always remember the first moment we locked eyes, the passion that was hidden behind a pair of Ray-Bans that flourished into the best relationship and the best two years of my life. I wanted to give the world to you and expected so little in return. I just wanted someone to listen to me, a guy to let me know that the world wasn’t such a bad place as long as I was with you. The day I was going to ask you to marry me, ring in hand, I knew something was wrong, so I held back. Then you broke up with me. Through a Facebook message. With a cop-out reason.

How dare you? I gave you everything I had, with the most sincere dedication, to not even hear (what I can only imagine) the tremble in your voice so I knew that you actually cared about me. Looking back now, you never cared about me. You only tried to mimic me in the things I did for you. I don’t know why you wanted to date me, but it clearly wasn’t for the commitment you told me about in the beginning. The two years you were with me were the biggest lie you ever told yourself. At least I can say that that I was truthful with my feelings.

I am so unabashedly disappointed in you. You put yourself on such a high pedestal that there can be no return from this fall from grace. The friendship that you wanted after we broke up will never happen. Find some other guy to trick.

Not-so-sincerely,
C, age 24

Mrs. Teagan,

I wanted to say thanks. Most people don’t even remember where they went to preschool, let alone the name of their teacher. But I remember you and I know you remember me, even after 16 years. I want you to know that I’ve grown up to be a good student and in my biased opinion, an upstanding citizen. I graduated magna cum laude from high school. I’ve worked and succeeded at 2 different jobs and got in to all 4 colleges that I was interested in. Now that I’m in my second year of college, I have a 3.8 GPA, am successfully involved in extra-curricular activities, and am well on my way to becoming a clinical psychologist.

I’m taking a child psychology class right now and I’m realizing just how important those preschool years are. It’s important that you know how much I respect you. You took the time to get to know my brother and I, along with the rest of my family. You’ve assisted so many children in developing into the beautiful human beings that you had faith we would become.

I should have come to your retirement party. I really want you to see what an impact you have made in so many children’s lives. I want you to see that I remember what an amazing teacher and role model you are. I want you to be proud of me and be proud of yourself for assisting me in my development.

You passed away last Sunday and I never told you those things. I can only hope that someone took the time to go to your retirement party and allowed you to see what an amazing woman and teacher you’ve been for the past 37 years. Thank you for sharing your love, time, and happiness.

Sincerely,
Allison, age 20

Dear You,

Thank you for being one of the best friends of all time! You are always there and we became especially good friends in the beginning of the year. You make coming to school enjoyable and fun. We already hang out so much and whenever we hang out we always have a good laugh. 

We have a common personality and actually have almost everything in common in general. That is probably one of the reasons we are friends anyway. I hope to hang out with you during the summer as well. The good thing about being friends with you is that we never get in fights and if we do it doesn’t last long. You are the best! 

Thank You,
From me, age 13

Father,

I remember fights in the house for as long as I can remember. I remember cowering in fear in my room, plagued with nightmares. I always got these terrifying dreams of dinosaurs and giants whenever you and mother would start fighting while I was sleeping. These nightmares, whenever I got them, taught me how to be strong. I remember running though the forests I created, the houses and cities, lavish and huge, to escape the monsters that represented you. I never could, and I would always wake whenever the T-rex got me. Whenever I felt myself being consumed by the jaws and snapping, gnashing teeth of this violent prehistoric creature.

In a way, I thank you. You taught me to be strong. I also found myself standing in front of you, in front of you and mother, screaming at you to stop. To stop because your baby girl was scared. Because I hated the fighting. I knew at a very young age fights like the ones you and mother had weren’t normal. They happened to often and you left too frequently.

Sister moved out, and left me to fend for myself at a young age. Much to young for a girl like me. Part of me loathes her for it-you forced her to leave. She wanted out of that house as much as I wanted out of life. Your baby girl, at 11 years old, inflicting self harm and wanting to die every time a fight erupted, every time she didn’t do well enough that she knew her precious Daddy would get mad at her for.

Despite what you put me through, I think your breaking moment was when I informed you about my tendencies that lead your baby girl to hurt herself. I was 13, standing in front of you showing you the scars on her wrists and what do you do? You scream at me. You scream at me while I’m standing there at my weakest point, your telling me I had no right. After that, everything started getting better. You and mother started fighting less, you left less often if at all, and the nightmares started going away. 

In a way, I hate you. I hate what you’ve put your family through, what you’ve done to me. I have trouble trusting men now, thinking they’ll be like you, bound to hurt me. I have a hard time opening up to people because of you telling me I had no right to react the way I did. 

But all in all, I love you. You’re my father and I need you. You’re my daddy, and you kept me safe and continue to look out for me, your baby girl. I remember when the house burnt down and I saw you cry for the first time. How you held me close and told me “It’ll be alright, baby girl. Everything will be okay” and how I trusted you so blindly because I didn’t know what else to do. I trusted you because I knew that you didn’t know what else to do either. You taught me to be strong and to believe in myself. And whenever sister would lash out at me-in words or violence-you would reprimand her. You are law in the house, and you would protect me from her. Mother never could do that. But you would stand up and tell her to shut her mouth or leave.

And despite my hard time opening up to people, I dare myself to because I need to have blind, relentless faith in someone, sometimes. I’ve found someone that adores me right now, and I adore him. I’m starting to rely on him more and more. And you should be happy to know he’s nothing like you, Daddy. He would never hit me, and he doesn’t do drugs like you once did. He holds me close-like you did the day of the fire. He’s seeing me through to what I want to do, just like you.

You’ve lead me through elementary, high school and now to college. You’re seeing through to make sure that I do what I want. Despite everything you’ve put me through, you’re being a Dad.

I could never tell you any of this because we aren’t close. But I know we are more alike than anything else. You’ve taken care of me for 17 years, and despite how scared of you I was when I was younger and what you’ve done to me mentally, I love you. 

From,
Your Baby Girl, age 17

To you, 

I’m afraid to tell you that I’m still hurt. And I’m afraid to tell you that I’m still angry, that you broke my trust, and that you’ve been so unkind and much too hard on me. Instead, I’m pretending - like you - that I never told you I loved you, because I’m also afraid to tell you that I still do.

Love should be told with love, and without shame, or regret, or bitterness. Love would be a story that grows in the telling. It doesn’t always work out that way, though, and it didn’t. From me to you, I’m not sure now that it ever could, not after everything that’s been told in between. These chapters are ragged and torn, their fragile words censored by a reckless and inelegant hand, and this ending is a sad one.

You’ve left me ruined and scarred, my tenderest disclosure paid in welts that tell now only of longing and its submission, while you talk of love as though it were something you know, and not a woman, weeping and unheard and afraid in front of you.

From me, age 31

Dear S,

I sat and stared at you and wondered why; we’d made love so many times before. I just shrugged it off. What I meant to say was that I was taking a picture of you to keep forever. What I didn’t tell you was that was the last time. You have been my world, love and heart for more than 6 years, but it’s time to move on. What I always wanted to say was that I would have moved heaven and earth for you. With all my heart, I’ll always love you. 

Love always and forever,Me, age 39

Dear the adopted,

It is hard knowing that you were adopted. Trust me, I know what it feels like. It is hard to know that someone gave you up. I was adopted at three months old. The people who adopted me are my great aunt and uncle. During my childhood, I did not know. I found out when I was five. I was at my uncle Wilber’s funeral and I met one of my younger sisters. That’s when I got told that I was adopted.

I often wonder what my life would have been like if I stayed with biological mother. I am the oldest of five girls, one of which stayed with my birth mother. I recently met Lala and the woman that gave birth to me. After that meet, I decided that I like the way my life is. I am telling you this because I want to help. Even though I’m not an adult, I remember the feelings of pain and want. You are lucky that you have a family that cares, even though they are not you’re real parents.

You’re friend,
Victoria, age 13