Dearest Little Girl,
I didn’t mean to forget you, to push you away for thirty years. I thought I knew you, but it turns out I created memories from photos and stories. I thought you were the happy, smiling child everyone said you were.
Read MoreThe Monthly Theme Essays are a collection of essays written each month on a predetermined theme. These essays are always published during the last week of the month. To submit a Monthly Theme Essay check out our upcoming themes.
Interested in sponsoring one of our monthly themes? Check out our media kit.
Dearest Little Girl,
I didn’t mean to forget you, to push you away for thirty years. I thought I knew you, but it turns out I created memories from photos and stories. I thought you were the happy, smiling child everyone said you were.
Read MoreDear Tiffany,
I wish I could warn you. You don’t have to fear them. They are made of flesh and bone, just like you. They can’t control everything, even though they try so hard you believe it. One day you will realize they are fragile. You are strong. You can snap them into pieces with your words. You will bite your tongue. You will keep your distance.
Read MoreDear Younger Self,
How could you have known? You came naked into a world that didn’t want you. Born on a kitchen table because your mother didn’t have the money for a hospital. Like everything else in your life, you’ve pretended this is cool when it’s actually pathetic. You have to admit it makes for an interesting story.
Read MoreDear Sophie,
I wish I could tell you that things get better. I’m not really in a place to tell you that, though. I know you’re sitting behind the desk answering calls and filling out paperwork. I know you tell people you’re “just a receptionist” while applying to grad schools and going to prenatal classes. You’ve got big plans for yourself and your little one whose tiny heart sounds like big wings through the speaker at the obstetrician’s office.
Read MoreDear Past Me,
It’s been what seems like an eternity since I last thought of you. The memories of you terrify me to the point of disbelief. Perhaps, it’s because I’ve told myself it’s nonessential how our life started out, so why dwell on the past?
Read MoreDear 2016 Alissa,
To be fair, I didn’t think you’d come this far. I had no idea you would do such stupid things with twenty-three guys. Here is the gold medal for being a slut, a very good one.
June 10, 1993
Dear Girl:
I saw a version of you today. She’s about your age and looks a little like you except she’s skinny and you are a miserable pudge. I bet she’s been living the life you live although you have cut out all the drugs by now. That near arrest scared the fuck out of you so now you have winnowed all your bad habits down to getting drunk every day. This girl slammed her car, going forty, into another car because she was high.
Read MoreDear Past Me,
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but those aren’t orgasms. You’ll learn this years down the road when you finally get your medication cocktail right, and discover you’re deserving of pleasure. You have a lot of learning to do, and you’ll get there eventually. Trust me, things will start to feel a lot better soon, and you won’t have to fake it anymore, even if, in your heart of hearts, you feel like it’s sincere.
Read MoreDear Past Self,
I wish I could’ve told you how much it hurts to have your tonsils removed.
Not as much as your cholesteatoma, chicken pox, shingles, or having an IUD inserted, but it would’ve been nice to be prepared to throw up blood constantly for two days.
Read MoreDear Past Me,
The one sitting by an incubator in the NICU. I see you- I am you. Today was hard. A doctor with a brash attitude blindsided you in a room full of people. She told you to pull the plug- to abandon hope because even if your sick child does manage to pull through- the burden will be too great. Her words- not yours, not mine.
Read MoreDear Past Me,
It’s your first day of college sleeping under crisp new sheets in your bed in your dorm room. You’re listening to your roommates breathing softly in the dark, two complete strangers who have been randomly picked to become your best friends, the people whom you are to navigate through this scary change with. You’re questioning the first big decision your mom has not made for you: college.
Read MoreDear Past Me,
I’ve never written a Dear Past Me letter before. It never occurred to me. A Future Me letter makes more sense as I can store it away for you, me rather (Argh, confusing!) to read when you’re clearing out the cupboard, or that box under your desk where you put all the papers that have no proper place anywhere else in the house.
Read MoreI know that sometimes things are rough. I know that people exploit your kindness, mistaking it for weakness; and that you do not find the love that you crave. I know that your intensity and passion make you hard to relate to especially to those who have forgotten the importance of being themselves and the significance of dreams.
Read MoreI am not the woman you expect. I am not the ideal, successful “career woman”; the brilliant, beautiful, ambitious young professional working in a corporate office. I am a recent college graduate; lost at sea, a sea of societal expectations and pressing decisions about the future. Perhaps I am not the woman you have dreamt I would be, but that does not negate the wealth of experiences that will mold you into the strong woman you will become. Your most difficult experiences and the lessons you will learn about life, love, and womanhood will lead to your greatest successes and reveal you to be far more resilient than you know.
Read MoreYou made it into the world in the late 70s, the youngest in a working-class family where money was tight and life wasn’t always easy.
As a baby, you were accidentally dropped on your head by your big sister, and your family said that’s why you’ve always been a little weird.
Read MoreDear Me, at 20 Years Old:
Don’t wait.
Whatever thing you’re thinking about doing, go do it. This one piece of advice is so important that I don’t mind if you set this letter aside and come back to it when you’re done.
Really.
Go do the thing.
I’ll wait.
Read MoreDear Sarah,
One day, in a future you cannot yet imagine, you will wake up one day with a burning pain that will signal your transition into the world of chronic illness. You will not know it at the time, but your life will be forever altered, upended in a way that will, quite often, seem grievously unfair. You will be scared. You will be angry. You will cry. And you will wish with all your heart to go back in time, but you cannot.
Read MoreDear Mir,
Just want to say to you, my younger self, that contrary to all your beliefs, you are totally fine. I know you hate yourself and are convinced you will never get out of New Jersey. Let me just say you will see the northern lights over Greenland, San Francisco from the back of a motorcycle, and millions of acres of salt flats beneath the moon.
Dear Emma,
I’m going to be blunt. Your suffering isn’t going to end. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I know you’ve been through so much already and you haven’t even come to realise the impact that has made. I’m not going to tell you what’s going to happen since it won’t help you understand it at the time. You need to go through everything to arrive at the place you are now. Although part of me wishes I could change your path, I wouldn’t have the understanding and appreciation of life I do. Plus it’ll be a total paradox because if I tell you then you’ll avoid it and then how will I send this letter in the first place? Best to leave things be.
Read MoreDear “Miss Beznik” (as he used to call you),
That conversation was not normal. I realize you were just a silly fourteen-year-old girl at the time, but it was not normal.
Read More