An Introduction to the "Letters to Mom" Section of This Blog

Ever since I moved away, I wrote to my mother every day. However, the sad part about it was I never got to say everything I wanted to say to her because I knew the emails were being monitored by my dad, and she had to “report” to him what I was doing. I had no chance to say anything privately to her.

To this day, I can’t believe she’s gone.

I wake up some days, expecting an email - only to remind myself that I’ll never be able to hear from her again.

I wish I had gotten to know her better. I wish I had asked more questions about her life before she got married and what she loved to do when she was growing up.

What would she have done differently if she didn’t have her surgery? What would she have done differently if she were able to have the career she wanted?

Grief cannot answer these questions for me. It’s too late.

But my mother sometimes sends me dreams and I see her in them. I wasn’t able to communicate with her through those dreams and there are some I remember more vividly than others, but every time, she has a lesson to teach me.

A very alarming one involved someone trying to kill me. And it took me months to figure out that it was symbolic - I wasn’t just withering away. I was silencing my inner voice because I was told that “my true self wasn’t acceptable” because it would fail. I felt scrutinized by someone, and by extension, those similar to them.

She sent me another dream, a followup to that one six months later, and I knew I had to take swift action.

She was pleading for me to say “yes” to myself and “no” to everything that filled me with dread, to everything external to me that demanded me to sacrifice my inner peace.

I wanted to say “no” to the “ideal” extroverted life that was imposed on me—which I never wanted in the first place. I am happy to be a recluse and I don’t think my creativity is limited by not being an extrovert.

I wanted to say “no” to opportunistic people who would potentially use my dream success for their own gain and to siphon my future connections.

I wanted to say “no” to constant paralysis and those who insist that my wide range of talents would never amount to anything because they don’t align with the most rigid of rules. There’s really nobody out there I can model myself after because I am here to do something rare that nobody has ever done before. Being more isolated helps me hear my own voice better.

This is why I find overstimulation and taking advice from too many people (whose trajectories aren’t even what I want) very counterproductive. I do not get why I have to be on social media feeds to stay ahead.

I made significant changes, albeit very abruptly, and those decisions led to the new restart that you see right now on this blog.

This section of the blog is for me to write to my mother, as if she were listening and reading. Because I know in Heaven she is keeping watch over me. My very first dream of her after the funeral confirmed this, and there is no doubt that God sent that message to me.

I hope these letters share a glimpse of what a special person she is, and if you have gone through something similar, I hope you find comfort and solace in these writings.