The 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.
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Dear child,
It was never your fault.
When your mom left, you were a forgotten consequence, but never the cause. She chose drugs because of her own weakness, not your self-described inadequacies. You were a toddler who lived every moment with a full heart and a pocket full of hope, but she was too far gone to bask in that light.
Read MoreDear Scarlett,
I want to tell you not to go to the bar that night. I want to say, “Just stay in with a good book.” But I know you. If I tell you, you'll only be more determined to do it. So get dolled up, go to the bar, listen to the band, and dance your heart out. But listen. Listen when your best friend tells you to stay away from him (they work together and there have been rumors).
Read MoreDear Lisa,
We regret to inform you that you did not end up living in the South of France nor were you accepted to Harvard Law School. We further apologize that you never became the smartest most beautiful girl in the world. We are sorry you never went to the Olympics in skiing and never became a pro tennis player. You never married your soul mate. You never got super rich.
Read MoreDear Zebib,
I hope this letter makes sense. It is from the future, from you at thirty, from a land far far away. 2019 sounds impossible even to my ears, like spaceships and dystopia. Did the letter get warped in time travel? Maybe the words ran together, like ink on parchment, held out in rain.
Read MoreDearest 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 N_____,
This letter is a little late, fifty years is a sizable chunk of time, but I wanted to tell you that you can stop searching for that lovely brown linen skirt you left behind after a week’s visit with me when we were young girls on the brink of life. I hope you have not spent too many of the decades between that summer and this one riffling through closets, calling various hotels, reaching out to friends to whom you might have lent it.
Read MoreToday, you told me you never had romantic feelings of any kind. Those words knocked the breath out of me. My chest squeezed tight and I had to swallow multiple times to keep tears from spilling.
But do you remember when we walked through downtown so late it was practically morning? You offered your arm to me like a gentleman, and I took it. We walked aimlessly for hours.
Read MoreWhen you do an internet search for “death of an unrequited love,” some interesting things pop up, but never the right ones. What about when the person for whom you have an unrequited love dies? What then? What about the closure that will never be, the hope that continued to exist, the possibilities that have now vanished? We had a story, in my mind. Now it will never have a resolution.
Read MoreAt first, I thought I’d killed you. The Friday before, you texted to tell me you were going to drown yourself in the Monongahela River. It was late Spring. You were drinking again.
“Go to the ER,” I told you. “Please don’t give up.” But, I didn’t offer to sit with you or hold your hand till the pain stopped. Instead, I just imagined you wandering along the trail by the river’s edge, staring into the murky rush.
Read MoreI met a man. It was during the winter months leading up to spring 1994. It wasn’t that type of meeting-a-guy situation, it was purely business, and for the sake of art.
I was twenty-two years old and had been dancing professionally for about four years. I was part of a dance company that performed traditional dances from the African diaspora.
Read MoreDear Mom,
As you know, I’ve been wearing glasses since kindergarten. Even though Dad is always trying to get me to take them off for picture taking, you’ll see I’ve managed to keep them on in almost every photo. In my developmental years my glasses were a part of my identity. I was that girl with the ponytail and glasses. I revelled in being identifiable, as if my glasses gave me a reputation.
Read MoreDearest You,
I need to peel off my flesh. Just a small slit on the wrist to get things started, then slice it back like puckered chicken skin with a paring knife and fry it in a pan.
Read MoreHome birth sounds so
Homey! Sweet! Safe from fear!
What a welcome, to bouncing baby
Who will arrive through legs, in arms, home
Read MoreI am the keeper of the dreams and the memories, the matrix where the generations converge, the record-book held between familial bookends. I am responsible for passing her life on to him that she may continue to live and that he may understand the consequences of history and culture.
Read MoreIt’s Tuesday 23rd January 2001 and I don’t want to go to school. Today is a different day from the ones that have gone before. Every day since Saturday has been a different day from the ones that have gone before.
Read MoreI heard the words, but they had never really registered. “Remember, no sleep for two year!” my boss warned when I shared the news of my second pregnancy with him.
Read MoreSome people ask how I became a world traveler. I guess I got it from my mother. She never told us to be curious or seek out new places, but she made anything possible.
I was the youngest of six kids. My dad left to marry our neighbor five doors down when I was in second grade, so though he was nearby, he wasn’t part of my everyday life. He belonged to my best friend now.
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