Letter to a Person who left
To Bradley,
Haven’t you missed a lot? I’ve really changed since the last time you looked at me. And I don’t mean just glanced at me, I mean really scrutinized me, searching for any changes to me on the inside. All you see is face value. I’m taller and my hair is shorter; you don’t see how much I’ve really blossomed. How could you? How could you possibly see any alterations in me, when you never knew me from the start. I was like a ball gown that didn’t fit, awkward and bloated. It would have been impossible for you to notice the metamorphosis that would occur on the inside.
When I was younger, the dress, a potato sack, hung on me but now it fits like a glove. Tearing, patching, and sewing have turned canvas into stain, the bold black letters declaring the brand converted into intricate lace. While witnessing my childhood, you made one essential error. You never looked. Always just a glance, for I was nothing important. All you saw was the top surface, never the deeper parts of me. When you inquired how I was the answer was always “well” even though around you, that was always a lie. I felt no need to be honest with you because you had been lying to me since the first time you told me you loved me.
As you read this you’re probably thinking, “I didn’t miss anything, I was always there for her.” Well, you missed more than you realize then. I hope as you are reading this you might see that all these things have helped me fill the waves of fabric that makes up my ball gown, they have molded me. But I am not done turning my potato sack into a ball gown just yet, it still needs some sparkle. I will add the glitter that only the real world possesses. The kind that really shimmers.
This may have been strenuous to read, but it is the truth. As your child, I know you better than you think. Even though you can’t admit it, I know you have problems. Constantly you claim your life is perfect, but it flawed like everyone elses. If you take anything away from my letter , take this: one of those flaws is that you don’t really look at your children, and I mean really gaze at us. Not just noting physical changes, but changes to our identities.Thus you had no idea that my potato sack had transformed into a ball gown. Now you do.
Your Daughter,
Gillian Wright
Statement of Purpose: I focused on sentence fluency and voice during the revision process.
Haven’t you missed a lot? I’ve really changed since the last time you looked at me. And I don’t mean just glanced at me, I mean really scrutinized me, searching for any changes to me on the inside. All you see is face value. I’m taller and my hair is shorter; you don’t see how much I’ve really blossomed. How could you? How could you possibly see any alterations in me, when you never knew me from the start. I was like a ball gown that didn’t fit, awkward and bloated. It would have been impossible for you to notice the metamorphosis that would occur on the inside.
When I was younger, the dress, a potato sack, hung on me but now it fits like a glove. Tearing, patching, and sewing have turned canvas into stain, the bold black letters declaring the brand converted into intricate lace. While witnessing my childhood, you made one essential error. You never looked. Always just a glance, for I was nothing important. All you saw was the top surface, never the deeper parts of me. When you inquired how I was the answer was always “well” even though around you, that was always a lie. I felt no need to be honest with you because you had been lying to me since the first time you told me you loved me.
As you read this you’re probably thinking, “I didn’t miss anything, I was always there for her.” Well, you missed more than you realize then. I hope as you are reading this you might see that all these things have helped me fill the waves of fabric that makes up my ball gown, they have molded me. But I am not done turning my potato sack into a ball gown just yet, it still needs some sparkle. I will add the glitter that only the real world possesses. The kind that really shimmers.
This may have been strenuous to read, but it is the truth. As your child, I know you better than you think. Even though you can’t admit it, I know you have problems. Constantly you claim your life is perfect, but it flawed like everyone elses. If you take anything away from my letter , take this: one of those flaws is that you don’t really look at your children, and I mean really gaze at us. Not just noting physical changes, but changes to our identities.Thus you had no idea that my potato sack had transformed into a ball gown. Now you do.
Your Daughter,
Gillian Wright
Statement of Purpose: I focused on sentence fluency and voice during the revision process.