Do you wish you could send your younger self the strength, confidence and love to face the future you’ve already lived? Let them know they are worthy and perfect just as they are, no matter what decisions they make and what life throws at them? Write that letter and share with them everything you can to help them realise how important they are, how much they matter and what positives they bring to the world and those around them.
A letter to release the negatives and forgive the self imposed judgements.
Join Bindi Shah in her Write to Heal workshop as she explores meditation & writing as a way of healing from trauma, grief and loss.
When we cannot speak out about things which have happened to us, we suppress them so we can survive in this world. Ignoring our feelings in this way causes physical and emotional stress. These feelings can release in the form of writing, which is what we will focus on in this workshop.
Jody Day of Gateway Women invites you to join her, Trish Faulks, Maria Hill, Sue Fagalde Lick, Susan Dowrie and Sue Newsome around the zoom fireside for a conversation full of wisdom and reflection.
I reckon that time travel is an incredible concept as it offers the opportunity to do things differently in the past or to see what the future holds.
Dear Penny, I wanted to drop back and say hello to you, my 9-year-old self when you were standing looking at that poster at school, “Girls can do anything”.
Dear Pamela Jeanne,
As you wrap up your 30s and prepare to arrive at 40, let me give you the benefit of 20 years more wisdom and experience.
Hello my beautiful Marie, You are 32 years old. I am you, but from the future. I am 47 years old now. I have some things to tell you, we need to talk.
The rock is warm and rough under my hand. Small white flowers are clinging on for dear life in a crack.
To 30-something Mali, Without any spoilers, I am going to give you some advice for your personal growth over the next 20 or more years.
I know that my younger self doesn't believe me. 3o year old me, knows I wanted the marriage and the baby carriage.
Hello 2 year old Susan, I am your adult self. I see your awareness that there’s something different about your brother. That you’re 18 months younger but can move better than he can.
Diagnosed with Primary amenorrhea in my late teens and told at that young age I would likely never have periods or be able to have my own children was a pretty tough pill to swallow.
Dear Maria, You were born into a ridiculously difficult situation when you came into this world. It was so negative that it was a wonder that you survived it.
There you are at thirty, your own London flat and a very good job, thinking that everything will turn out well in your personal life too if you just carry on as normal and stay true to yourself.
Dear Sarah, I see you. I see you crying on your own, curled up on the kitchen floor, hugging yourself because nobody else is hugging you. How can they when they don’t know how sad you are?
Dear Younger Self, I know how much you’re hurting right now. I know how desperately you want to have a baby, to start a family.
Dear Yael, You’re going to become an auntie soon. I know you thought, as the eldest child, that you would be the first to have children.
To be read at 30 years old - I know this feels like the end of the world.
Dear younger me, dear, dear girl, You heard the words that would tell you how it would be. You heard the stories. You saw the families. You saw the parents. You saw the sweet little ones grow. You watched how families interacted.
Dear 29-year old Jess in 2006, I know everything seems so scary right now. You’ve been utterly unmoored from the life that you thought was what you wanted but turned out like a Stranger Things’ Upside Down, everything dark and ominous and opposite.
Little lady, you have a fantastic life ahead of you and it is not what you expected.
This letter was written 18 months after my TTC journey came to an end, when I was overcome by a new wave of grief.
My Dearest Yvonne, Please be encouraged that out of the darkness there is light for without pain we’ll never know true joy and you bring so much joy with who you are.
My dearest young friend Dani, Sitting in my morning train which takes me through a beautiful summer landscape to work, my thoughts are flying to you. A sign to finally write this long outstanding letter.
Ahakoa whati te manga, e takoto ana anō te kōhiwi (Although the branch is broken off, the trunk remains – Māori proverb)