Dear Friend,

I hope this finds you well.

I miss you. A lot. I miss your offside jokes, your amazing hugs, and your huge heart.

But your husband is a piece of shit, and I can’t stand being around him. I don’t like the person you turn into when he’s around, and I think he’s like all the rest: trash. I’m sorry you pick the worst fucking men ever, and I want you to know I love you and I will be here waiting for the day you realize he’s not worthy of you.

Love,
Chicken Nugget

Dear Chris,

I hope this finds you well.

I just want to tell you that you’re the reason I hate working from home now. Seeing you in the office was the best part of my day, every day. The way you came in with your coffee mug and laptop bag, smiling every day no matter what was happening around us was such a bright spot in my life. I miss chatting with you in the lunch room, and grabbing coffee together. I miss trading stories about our kids and I even miss talking about your wife and of course your dog. It’s so weird seeing you in zoom calls and that’s it now. I don’t know if it’s a crush, but I miss the rush of excitement I’d get every day at work and life isn’t as bright now. I think you’re really great, and maybe you know that I like you, or maybe you don’t, but I wanted to tell someone, so maybe you’ll come across this one day.

Best wishes,
See ya on zoom

Dear Spineless Twat,

I hope this finds you well.

I mean in a well. A deep, dark, dank well of self loathing. You were the best and worst decision I ever made. I’m not sorry I told you I was pregnant to get you to come home that night you first cheated on me. I’m not sorry I fantasized about fucking your best friend on our wedding night. I’m not sorry for all the times I begged for help and you acted like YOU were the victim. I’m not sorry for telling everyone what you did. I’m not sorry they know you aren’t the man you pretend to be. The only thing I’m sorry for is that I don’t have the guts to say this to your stupid fucking face.

Fuck all the way off forever,
The Best Thing You’ll Never Have Again

Dear Mom,

I hope this finds you well.

I have paid so much in therapy bills to get to the point where I can forgive you. Maybe “forgive” isn’t quite the right word. It’s more like coming to terms with, and being ok with who you are. I want to believe you did your best, and that you were just hurting, too. I want to believe you loved me. I want to believe you wanted the best for me.

I don’t believe any of those things, but I want to. I’m sending this letter into the void to get it out of my head because I can’t keep thinking and rethinking about all the times you shredded my heart. Maybe if I tell the whole world, yet nobody at all, I will find closure.

I am a good person because I had a bad mother. I am a strong person because you tried to make me weak. I am who I am because of you. Thanks for that. Happy Mother’s Day, I hope you’re happy now.

Warmest regards,
Liz

Dear Little Me,

I hope this finds you well.

I have so many things to tell you about how life turns out. So far. I am so proud of you. You are going to be ok. Actually better tahn ok. Your going to move away and find a boyfriend and your going to marry him. Yes really.

You are so brave and strong and your going to look back at life and know that the bullies were just hurt kids too. They don’t get better by the way, they just get older. But it’s ok because you get stronger and nowadays people are way nicer to gay people. Chin up, kid. We are doing great because of how brave you are.

Thank you,
43 Years Old You

Dear H,

I hope this finds you well.
I’m sorry things went down the way they did. I’m sorry we lost a lifetime of friendship. The other day I heard Hangin Tough and literally lol’d remembering how we tried to get tickets to see nkotb and cried real tears when we didn’t get any. I miss having a bestie who really knows me and I will always love you.

Love,
me

Dear James,

I hope this finds you well.

That’s bullshit. I don’t hope this finds you well. I hope this finds you rotting in misery with herpes, you unfaithful piece of shit.

Fuck all the way off forever,

Dear Dad,

I hope this finds you well. Isn’t that how these things are supposed to start? With a well-wishing so worn it almost loses its meaning? Yet, here I am writing a letter to a man whose voice I’ve never heard, whose face is just a blur in an old photograph.

You left before I could even walk, and while Mom has done her best, there’s always been a you-shaped hole in my life. I used to imagine you’d come back one day. I hoped one day you’d reach out to see me and mom. Every father’s day, and Christmas, and my birthdays were spent hoping for you.

Then I grew older, angrier. You left a trail of destruction behind you. You broke my mom and you broke me too.

It isn’t fair but that’s life, right. Don’t you wonder how I am? Don’t you wonder if I look like you? Don’t you give a single shit about a life you created and left behind? Why did you leave and never contact me? Why did you not love me enough? Do I have grandparents on your side? Don’t you have family that wants to know me? How could you leave my mom like that?

I’ve carried this unspoken conversation with you for years. I have so many questions I’ll never be able to ask and you must have answers I’ll never hear. It’s heavy, dad.

Wherever you are, I hope life has treated you better than you treated me. I can’t say I forgive your absence, but I am so grateful for what I have and who I have, and I just want to let go of the ghost of you. I hope I never hear from you. Thank you for nothing.

Best wishes,
KG

I Hope This Finds You Well was born from the understanding that pain, while often a traumatic and horrible experience, is also a powerful catalyst for creativity, empathy, and connection. It drives us to seek change, to find relief for ourselves and others, and to connect over shared struggles and silent battles.

It all started with an email, actually. Written and deleted, written and deleted, written and deleted: Dear [redacted], I hope this finds you well… (I didn’t hope it found them well.)

The words left unsaid festered and rotted inside. They needed to be released. IHTFYW was born from a conversation between friends about all the things that are often left unsaid on purpose or by design. Our platform exists to help us all heal. We get to say what needs to be said, however we all want it said.

Letters shared here are uncensored, unfettered, and sent anonymously. Let it all out, let the world witness your pain, sadness, anger, joy, secrets… then move through it and past it.

Your letters won’t reach a mailbox or land in an inbox, but are instead destined to connect with the hearts of others navigating their own paths. By sharing these letters, you’re freeing yourself and lighting a path for others, proving that even when we feel most alone, we really aren’t.

(To reach us, please email sayhi@ihopethisfindsyouwell.com and one of our team of sorely unpaid team members will get back to you as soon as possible.)