Letter 18

May 26, 2015

Dear Jesse,

The few days after my appointment with the medium were beyond heavy. There were so many questions, fears, doubts and sadness about you really being gone. About you really being dead.

I missed… I miss you, Jesse.

When you died I never publically talked about it in connection with my company. I was able to have an escape from your death with, The LB brand, and that was what I needed during those early months. Something separate, something that was mine, something that was hopeful instead of so fucking final. 

I remember September 10th, 2014 so very clearly. It was just three days after my phone appointment. I had no idea it was World Suicide Prevention Day. I remember afterwards just looking at a picture of you, and asking myself if I was going to finally let my ‘other’ world in on what has been happening in my life. The global community of mothers that I had been building through my company and brand LB was about connection, empowerment, encouragement and support of someone being their authentic self, especially through their motherhood journey. It was like I was hiding this huge part of myself from what I was doing. These women didn’t know that with every order I packaged for them that I was fucking aching inside, that every response email or IG comment was coming from a mother who was breaking inside from the devastating loss of her brother who fucking killed himself. If I couldn’t share this with ‘all’ parts of my life, then I was never going to heal. Healing yourself takes transparency. Healing yourself takes vulnerability and I wasn’t fucking healing.

I was painfully aching inside.

On September 10th, 2014, I made a decision to finally share my ‘other’ world with my company's community and following.

I didn’t want to hide you anymore.

The response was beyond overwhelming. I remember seeing over 8,000 hits on the Dear Jesse blog by the end of the day. The few letters I had written at that time were now being read by so many human beings all over the world.

All over the world.

The emails started pouring in as well and it wasn’t just for support, it was from so many other people who had lost a loved one in the same way. All I could see in my mind was you, alive, saying what you always said:

“People don’t like to talk about this shit, the pain, because it makes people uncomfortable, it’s not convenient to their lives or emotions, and that’s what’s wrong in this world. People are hurting and no one wants to fucking address it.”

I had to address it, if not for myself, for you. If not for us, then for the countless human beings alive who haven’t found their voice yet. And for the ones who are dead and no longer have a voice, whose life story was and is, at the mercy of someone alive trying to find the courage to speak up. I decided that day I was going to speak up. I was going to be honest and transparent about everything I went through on a very public platform.