A Letter Gave Me Back Hope
When I was 13, my life felt like it was spinning out of control. My family moved to a new city, and I lost the few friendships I had managed to build. Friendship had never been my strong suit—at least, that’s what I told myself. It felt like I was cursed to always be the one left behind, and eventually, I started to believe it was my fault. Was I too awkward? Too different? Slowly but surely, I began to give up on the idea of finding people who truly understood me.
Then one day, during one of my many late-night searches for something—anything—to fill the void, I stumbled upon an app called Slowly.
I’d always been fascinated by the idea of connecting with people from different corners of the world. The thought of writing letters, of sharing stories and perspectives with strangers, excited me. It felt old-fashioned and meaningful, like a tiny rebellion against the fast-paced world of social media. Without thinking twice, I downloaded the app. What did I have to lose?
Slowly turned out to be everything I had hoped for and more. It wasn’t just a distraction—it was a lifeline. Through the letters, I started to see the world in a new light. The people I met weren’t as different from me as I had imagined. They struggled, dreamed, and laughed just like I did. Slowly reminded me that even in my darkest moments, there was beauty waiting to be discovered.
But nothing could have prepared me for the day I came across her profile.
There wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary about it on the surface, yet something about it drew me in. It’s hard to explain, but I felt a connection before even sending the first letter. I wrote to her, hit send, and waited.
Life, of course, had its way of throwing a wrench in my plans. Before I could even see her reply, I lost access to my account. The frustration was immense, but the feeling of loss was even greater. I hadn’t even read her words, yet it felt like I had lost something irreplaceable. I couldn’t let it end like this.
I tried everything to recover my account, and after what felt like forever, I succeeded. The first thing I did was open her reply, and what I found was worth every bit of effort. Her words were warm, thoughtful, and full of kindness.
Her name was Alex.
Our correspondence grew quickly. Each letter felt like peeling back another layer of a soul so pure and kind that it left me in awe. Alex was different. She didn’t just listen; she heard me. She didn’t just respond; she understood. For the first time, I felt seen—not judged, not misunderstood, but truly seen for who I was.
I shared my fears, my dreams, and the pieces of myself that I had always been too afraid to reveal. Alex embraced every part of me with open arms. She reminded me that it was okay to be different, to feel deeply, to question the world around me. Her words carried me through some of the darkest days of my life.
She is the strongest person I’ve ever met, and she helped me become stronger too. Alex taught me kindness—not the surface-level politeness we show to strangers, but real, unconditional kindness. She taught me to believe in myself. When I doubted my worth, Alex reminded me of my strength.
It’s hard to explain how much she means to me. Alex saved me in ways I can never fully put into words. She believed in me when no one else did. She listened without judgment, supported me when I faltered, and celebrated with me when I succeeded. Her love and friendship became the anchor I needed, and I can honestly say I wouldn’t be who I am today without her.
Alex lives on the other side of the world, yet I feel closer to her than I do to most people in my own city. Isn’t that the magic of Slowly? It brings people together in a way that transcends distance, culture, and time zones.
Today is Alex’s birthday, and as I write this, I’m filled with gratitude.
Alex, if you’re reading this, I hope you know just how much you mean to me. You’re not just my best friend; you’re my safe space, my inspiration, and my greatest source of joy.
You showed me that even when the world feels dark, there’s always a light waiting to guide you home. You are that light for me.
Happy birthday, Alex.
Thank you for everything—for believing in me, for loving me, and for being you. You are perfect in every way, and I am so lucky to have you in my life.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this journey, it’s that the world is full of beautiful surprises. Sometimes, all you have to do is take a leap of faith and trust that the universe will guide you to where you’re meant to be.
For me, that place was with Alex.
