Today is the first year anniversary of the death of my daughter’s father. He’d been in my life for 28 years. We were not a good fit. It was acrimonious for over 2 decades. I hadn’t spoken to him in the 2 years prior to his death.

I’ve journalled about this relationship many times. About it’s pain, about the feelings I had not been able to access or honour, about my part in the suffering.

Recently, a thought suggested that I write an unsent letter to him. Unsent letters are powerful journalling techniques for healing relationships with people and issues that can’t be conversed with directly. They support internal shifts that further personal healing.

Mel Robbins, in her book ‘The Let Them Theory’ dedicates several well-written, expertly informed chapters on relationships. I recommend them to anyone struggling with a relationship, but be warned, the chapters focus on you – how to influence, and if necessary, make black and white decisions about your future. She continually asserts we can only control what we think, how we respond to our feelings, and what we do. We can’t control other adults, including those we love.

When you have done what you can to influence the behaviour of another adult and nothing changes, the time comes when you must decide if the behaviours of your loved one are ‘deal breakers’ – something you can live with for the rest of your life, or not. Answering the question about whether our partner’s perspective is a deal breaker or not, brushes up against our deeper, often unspoken visions we have for our lives.

An inspiring example of a conversation in which one party checks out whether their partner is on the same page regarding their future is provided. The conversation validates what the person enjoys in the relationship, their own deeper vision, and the worth of time and energy – our life.

I pondered what I would say in an unsent letter to my former partner if I wrote it from these three points. First, if I stated how much I valued his early generous showering of gifts to demonstrate his love. How I was enriched through travel to different parts of the world, of having the financial freedom to pursue business ventures, and of meeting his extended biological family, and adopted families in third world countries. To enjoy exquisite food in fine restaurants, and to invest in philanthropic projects. But also to be honest about my need for deeper companionship, a broader range of mutual friends, and a family life that involved loving children. Finally, to then speak of my ongoing investment of my life energy and time in our relationship only if I knew elements of my deeper vision for my life could be integrated into our shared life. And to accept his ‘no’ if the vision for his life was completely different to mine.

In imagining that unsent letter, I felt myself settle internally. I felt respect and compassion permeate my being – for myself and for him – 20 years after the severance that eventually came. I spoke truth in that imagined letter. Separate individual needs existed alongside shared companionship. Gaps also existed. Writing can help us to make decisions from a mind that sees it all clearly. Mel Robbins’s chapters provided truths and questions that allowed me to explore it all.

Mentally writing that letter made a difference. I may now use a quiet moment to write it more fully. Nearly a year after his death, an unsent letter allows him to ‘rest in peace’ in my heart and my heart benefits.

Learn from the learning of others. Books like the one written by Mel Robbins are a gift. But their benefits are only half reaped if we don’t work with them. ‘Let Them’ write books, then ‘Let Me’ explore how it fits with what sits in me. How does what they say apply to me? Does what sits in your own repertoire of untapped wisdom from experience resonate? Using other people’s words to explore your own untoiled inner realms brings more of you alive. Using other people’s inspiring knowledge, bring more of yourself to the page, and grow.