This is a letter to my fear, telling it that the tables have turned. It's a letter about how I've taken back the control, how I grew stronger than my fears. I'm the one making the calls and I will never go back.
This is a letter to my creativity, my messy, uncontrollable and impatient creativity. It's a letter of love, but not an uncomplicated love. With creativity, the road will wind high and low, and it won't always be comfortable.
This is a letter to my stress, telling it that I'm done feeding it. It's a letter about our love-hate relationship, my addiction to it and my fear that I can't live without it. This is me telling stress that enough is enough.
This is a letter to my inner child, thanking her for sticking around when I thought I needed to get rid of her. When I locked her in a dark room deep inside of me, and threw away the key. This is a thank you, and a promise.
This is a letter to my confidence, begging it to come back. When it has bailed, left me with doubts and fears, alone to finish a project I no long know how to finish. It's a letter written in anger and fear, revisiting the times when confidence was completely gone from my life.
This is a letter to my heart, telling the story of how it got buried deep inside me, behind a hardened rib cage and thick skin. This is me reversing the trip, to hear the beatings of my heart, to follow it's longings.