Dear Rejection,
I’ve started and abandoned countless drafts of this letter, trying to ensure the language I use lands perfectly. This conscientiousness has, in part, been influenced by your presence in my life, a life you have been part of for more than three decades. My first instinct was to start with a familiar greeting, “Hello, Old Friend,” but calling you a friend doesn’t feel quite right, although, in recent years, I’ve realized that you are not the enemy I once believed you to be. The role you have played in my life has always been a pronounced one. You were a presence before I even exited the womb. You made yourself known in the form of an unfit father whose absence led me down a path of unfit lovers. You remember them, don’t you? How could you not? Those were among the darkest moments between us. I crawled my way toward the light in the form of trying to heal, seeking help, and processing all of those long-gone moments with you that imprinted my psyche. In trying to find my light, I could see you in a new one.