Every year at Pride events, and exclusively at Pride, I hand out little cards with a picture representing this website, and myself, and a little note on the back. Each note is handwritten and designed to say “I see you” in a variety of ways.
I started writing the letters nine years ago, and I continued not because people needed them, but because “I” needed to write them.
I want very much for you to feel, and to genuinely believe, that the note you receive is the one designed for you, by the universe.
I don’t quote poetry, I write my own thoughts, thoughts that I wish people had said to me, or things people have said to me. I try to be as encouraging as possible, and I try to remind folks that every single letter is special because I never know what they say when I hand them out. I just know I really thought about whatever it is I wrote, and decided to write it, because I felt it really did need to be heard.
I love doing these letters, but I wish I had more money so I could make them fancier. I used to cover them in sparkle stickers, and draw and ribbons, but eventually it just became way too much work, and my hands weren’t capable of bending the way I needed them to.
But now that I am feeling better, I am ready to go back to work, almost, so that I can start doing the love letters the way that I want to.
I believe everyone in the world deserves to receive a handwritten love letter. A letter that says, “Hey, you, you matter, you’re fucking important and I am glad you are here.”
I got the idea from a woman who follows my Blog (I am so sorry I can’t remember your name my love,) she found me on Twitter years ago when we started to discuss what’s going on in Northern Canada. About eight years ago, there was a series of mass suicides in Northern Canada that resulted in huge stories about mental health, addiction, poverty, and isolation.
One of her solutions was to send people in Northern Canada piles of love letters. I thought it was a beautiful initiative, but not one I could afford to participate in. So my love letters get handed out to people in my community, people who are here, and need to know they are loved.
I will never forget the people who cherish the letters they receive. There’s the first letter I handed out, which simply said “Get stoned, dance naked.” The white woman who got that letter said, “She knows me.” I will never forget that.
This past weekend, another woman, a Black woman this time, said she has a love letter she got from me last year; she still has it! And so she got another this year, as did her friend.
Then this other woman who came to find me just to hug me, because the letter she got, meant so much to her. I never forget people when they remind me they’ve gotten a letter, I’ll remember these women for the rest of my life, purely because I offered love, and they returned the offer.
Not everyone wants to take some of my love. And that’s okay. People are often surprised when I don’t get angry when they say no, but that’s okay, too. Not everyone understands that love freely offered, even when it’s rejected, can hurt, but it’s not the end of the world.
I’ve been rejected before, by many cool people, who turned out not to be so cool after the fact.
I fully believe the universe brings us into the paths of people that we’re destined to meet. I believe every single person we come across is a mate to a part of our soul, whether we recognize them or not.
Sometimes these interactions last a lifetime, and other times they are only a short moment in our lives, but they are always important.
It’s said, “Every path you cross is a life lesson,” and I fully believe that that’s not accurate. I don’t think I was abused, so I would now be a warrior. I believe I was abused because there are disgusting people in this world, and too many are willing to protect them, for the sake of their own comfort.
For decades, by my abusers, I was called “The Sacrifice,” a gift to the universe so they could have better lives. They genuinely were taught that when I was treated badly, life would be better for them.
I realized at too late an age that none of that is true, acceptable, or okay. I realized too, that the community that should have protected me would rather shun me and call me crazy than protect me from my abusers because it’s easier to denounce survivors than it is to go after perpetrators.
I’m safe today because I made a safety net for myself. I have friends all over the world who are keeping my secrets, protecting my heart, and genuinely just being there for me when I need to talk. None of this was accessible eight years ago.
I am here because each and every one of you who received a love letter gave me a reason to keep going. So thanks for grabbing a letter, giving me a hug, saying hi, and acknowledging me. It means the fucking world.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall, The Original Loud Mouth Brown Girl
Loud Mouth Brown Girl 