Our Street Team members have been invited to write letters of encouragement for people currently involved in residential treatment programs. We plan on sending these letters to people seeking help, to remind them that their fight is worth the effort. It has been our experience that sometimes people in these programs are unable to access the Internet, have visitors or receive mail on a regular basis. These notes are meant to meet people where they’re at in their recovery, and provide hope for them along the way.
Below is a letter we recently received from a member of our Street Team for this purpose. We think it’s wonderful, and wanted to share it with you guys too. If you would like to help write letters of encouragement, head over to our Street Team page on Fancorps to sign up today.
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My mom was always the strong one. The one who always knew what to do and what to say. A child needs someone to look up to, and naturally most kids look up to their mother or father. Whether they have a good or bad influence on them, it’s just something children do. I consider myself a grownup now, but in the midst of all the searching and wondering and mystery that life offers, I’m still a child. A child seeking approval, and acknowledgment, and love.
I started writing songs when I was 14. Most of it was crap but it’s just those steps you have to take to get where you want to be. I don’t know what drove me to actually keep writing during the first two years because nobody heard them except for two of my siblings (and they are both younger so of course they thought that everything I did was cool). When I was 16 I thought that I wrote a half-decent song and I decided to play it in front of my mom. I remember it very well. I asked her if she wanted to hear something, I wrote, and I sat down in the hallway while she was doing her hair in front of the mirror while she got ready for work. I started playing on my guitar and singing. I will never forget the way she looked at me, the way she listened. In that moment I knew that she saw something in me. I didn’t know what it was but I felt that it was something significant. She believed in me.
As we wander through this life, in whatever we do, we are always looking for approval. In school or at our jobs we need to know that what we do is good. That it matters. That we matter. The greatest fear as human beings is to be unloved.
I don’t think that my mom didn’t believe in me before she heard my song. I bet she did. I know she always loved me and always will. Maybe the reason why this moment was so significant to me was because she let me know that she believed in me. She encouraged me to sing my song in front of other people. When I said that I don’t think it was good enough, when I didn’t believe in myself, she did.
Sometimes we keep searching. We long for someone who believes in us other than our parents. We’ve all heard that “sometimes you can’t make it on your own,” and most of the time we’re just not brave enough to ask for help. We are ashamed because we’re in need of something other than what we have on our own.
I’m a little older now and I realized that my mother is also just a person in need. I wanted to be a giver more than a taker. But there’s a time for both. There are times we’re the ones who are asked to give and other times we take. We may be surprised in how easy it is to give to others, even when we feel like we’re the ones in need.
What if all someone needed from us was to share pieces of ourselves? To share our pain, our fears, our dreams, our stories. If we believe that other people matter and we tell them that they do, then we have to also believe that there are moments we will have to accept it when we feel like we can’t.
We may just find ourselves respond by saying, “If you believe I can, then I think I can.”
Esther
23-year-old from Germany
member of the TWLOHA Street Team