Many years ago, during my teenage years, I had the wonderful experience of having a pen pal. Our letters flew halfway around the world at the rate of two or three a week. The anticipation of receiving a letter from my pen pal was always a highlight, each envelope carrying with it a piece of a different world, a different perspective.
As time passed and I transitioned into adulthood, the frequency of our correspondence dwindled until it eventually ceased altogether. Despite this, the memories of those letters and the connection they represented remained deeply ingrained in my heart. I made the conscious decision to preserve these cherished mementos, carefully folding and placing them in two shoe boxes that found a home at the back of my closet in the room of my childhood, nestled within the walls of my family home.
These shoe boxes, containing the letters from my pen pal, are more than just physical objects stored away in a forgotten corner. They are a tangible link to my past, a direct connection to a time when the world seemed both bigger and smaller, all at once. Each letter is a snapshot of a moment in my personal history, capturing the essence of my youth and the innocence of forging friendships across borders and boundaries.
In a way, those letters encapsulate a part of who I was and who I have become. They serve as a reminder of the power of human connection, the beauty of shared experiences, and the significance of preserving memories that shape our identities.
Although the art of letter writing has declined with the rise of technology, I still write letters. I find solace in the practice of composing letters to various individuals in my life, including my husband, family members, and friends, that I never actually send. This unique habit, which I fondly refer to as "The Unsent Letter," serves as a therapeutic outlet for me to navigate and process complex emotions that may be challenging to express verbally. Through these unsent letters, I am able to delve deep into my thoughts and feelings, articulating them in a way that allows me to reflect, heal, and gain clarity. Each letter serves as a personal sanctuary where I can pour out my innermost thoughts without fear of judgment or repercussion, fostering a sense of emotional release and understanding.
In a world dominated by instant communication and fleeting messages, the act of crafting these unsent letters provides me with a profound sense of connection and introspection, offering a space for introspective exploration and emotional growth.
Unlike a dialogue, an Unsent Letter is a one-way communication. It is an opportunity to express without interruption or discussion. Such expression can result in air clearing and a deeper sense of clarity about your own position.
Unsent Letters are wonderful for expressing deep emotion, such as anger or grief. They are also tools of choice for gaining closure and insight. And they are an effective way of communicating your opinions, deepest feelings, hostilities, resentments, affections, or controversial points of view in a safe, nonthreatening atmosphere. The trick to an Unsent Letter, of course, is: don’t plan to send it! This gives you the permission to write without censorship, risk, or fear of hurting someone else. Of course, you may decide at a later time that you want to share what you have written. If you do, you are certainly free to do so, but writing it with the knowledge that it is initially for your eyes only allows you to “tell the complete truth faster.”
Here is an example of a client's Unsent Letter to her college-aged daughter, she reflected on her own feelings of inadequacy as a mother:
(PS: I got her permission to share this and some details have been altered to honor client confidentiality and ensure her anonymity.)
“How I wish I had a chance to start over, to raise you again. You were my biggest challenge, my greatest fear. … I was afraid of you, afraid of not doing the right things. Divorcing your father helped ease the tension, but still I didn’t know how to raise you. I would have separated earlier, but I was afraid I couldn’t handle you alone. If only I knew then what I am learning now—to listen, to value you, not to battle. If only I could do it over, raise you with more patience, more understanding, more consistency, more positive support, more of my time, more of me…. Now you’re almost an adult. And you do seem more at peace; the anger is gone. I am happy for that. I love you more than you can know...”
Even though she started out writing this letter for her daughter, it quickly shifted into a letter she was writing for herself. This technique allows you to move through all five levels of feeling: anger/blame; hurt/sadness; fear/insecurity; guilt/responsibility; to love/understanding/forgiveness.
Unsent Letters can help you come to closure with any relationships that are unfinished. Write to those people in your life who have left you, or whom you have left. Tell them all the things you would say if you could. Try this with the people who are still in your life, too, if it’s time for your relationship to shift gears.
TIPS FOR WRITING UNSENT LETTERS
Don’t censor; don’t edit.
Let it all out. Release your emotions. Give yourself permission to express them. It might be uncomfortable, especially when dealing with anger. Keep in mind that holding onto this energy will only keep it inside you, affecting your body, heart, and mind.
Let out all the harsh thoughts you can think of—things you wouldn't actually say to someone. Call them names. Explain why. Allow yourself to vent all the perfect comebacks that only occur to you later. Then destroy the letter. Tear it up, burn it, flush it down the toilet, rip it with your teeth, stomp on it. Make noise while doing this. Consider screaming loudly. Punch a pillow with all your strength. You'll likely either feel relief quickly or end up laughing on the floor.
Don't deny the reality of your "negative" feelings. They are valid. Allowing yourself to release them in inappropriate ways is a beneficial way to reduce stress.
Unsent Letters don’t hurt anyone.
Many people fear that giving voice to their ugliest feelings, even in the privacy of an Unsent Letter, will bleed through to the target of their anger or pain. Assuming that you are using the Unsent Letter as a discharge of your own feelings rather than as an attack on someone else, this will not happen. Consider destroying the letter after it is written, not only to protect yourself and the subject of your letter, but also to symbolize the release of the “negative” feelings.
Your Unsent Letter may be to anyone or anything.
It is perfectly valid to write a letter to someone who is no longer living or who has not been born yet, to an organization or institution (the Communist party, the Catholic church) that is not realistically an audience, to a part of yourself, or to a famous figure to whom you do not have access.
Start your letter with a Springboard.
What I have been most afraid to tell you is …”or “I want you to know how I feel about …” are effective openers.
Write a letter to yourself from someone else.
This can give you an entirely different perspective, with resultant insight. Imagine the possibilities!
Letters to and from God are magical!
Alice Walkers Pulitzer Prize— winning book, The Color Purple, is an entire collection of Unsent Letters to God. Start your own collection!
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