Day 74 of 365: “dear life partner” — a blast-from-the-past letter

I’ve been working on my second book, entitled “big boobs + thigh gap: a journey beyond conventional beauty”. And by “working on” I mean aptly avoiding for two months.

When searching for it today, I came upon a few other documents that acted as excellent distractions from the writing my heart really wanted to do.

I am, like, so good at distracting myself.

One of said distractions was a book thing I started in 2015. My dad joked that I needed to make a guidebook for future romantic partners.

I started that book. It’s saved somewhere.

I also began writing to my future life partner to open up a line of (energetic?) communication and to help me remember that, y’know, the person [hopefully] existed.

And to feel as though I was doing something to help attract them. (Because ME? Sit back and allow? Pppssshhhfffttt. Jokes.)

I think the first letter is adorable and still resonant. So I decided to share it. Enjoy.


Dear Life Partner,

I thought of you today. This is a usual occurrence, but today felt different. I looked into my love and relationship corner of my house, which is located in the kitchen to the left of the stove in accordance with the Feng Shui bagua map I used. I half-smiled at the objects I’d placed there to increase the chi and attract the partnership with you. There are three candles. First is a green candle, representative of the heart chakra, trust, and open receptivity. I look forward to loving you fiercely and having that same love returned. Second is an orange candle, representative of the sacral chakra, emotional transparency, creativity, and sexual passion. I look forward to slowly unwrapping every inch of your body and mind, learning your likes and dislikes and ticklish spots. I look forward to you taking your time with my body, respecting it with your fingers and adoring it with your lips. Third is a light blue candle, representative of the throat chakra, fluid communication, and honesty. We will have deep, uninhibited conversations. We will not mold or bend. We will be our true selves—in whatever way that shall manifest in any given moment—and we will share what our hearts and bodies and souls long to share. We will have our own sacred circle, you and me, one where we actively listen to the other and hold space for him/her to birth an understanding of whichever ailing situation.

To the right of these candles, there is a unique piece of bark I came upon one day that resembles the shape of a hand. In the practice of feng shui, the element of wood fosters intuition, creativity, flexibility, and expansion. I want us to use our intuition to tune into each other when vulnerable communication is difficult. I want us to create together. This could be dinner, a secret handshake, a painting, an organic garden, a rap song, or a fun way to do dishes. I desire to use our hands, minds, and hearts in a creative fashion, accessing our inner children and allowing the creative consciousness to be expressed through us. This partnership of ours will expand our capacity for giving and receiving love and will show us how flexible and capable we truly are. To me, this hand-shaped piece of wood signifies an intuitive, creative, flexible, expansive, hands-on relationship—that is to say that we are not afraid to get our hands dirty.

You know those arguments that get swept under the rug? The ones where both people involved are waiting for the other to broach the topic and, eventually, the immediacy fizzles out, thereby resulting in silence and avoidance and pretending the issue never occurred? Yea, I want the opposite of that. I want us to dig in. I want us to grab either side of the rug and shake it until it’s clean, over and over again, laughing or crying or yelling as we squint our eyes at the approaching dust. I want us to hash things out, to talk through triggers, and to work together as we retrain our brains into integrating and embracing the way a mindful relationship should be. It may look like a mess, to shake a rug and sit in its dirt and grime, but it is the first step toward having a clean slate. It is an option that is always available. I will help clean the dust from your eyes and you will sweep the energy from my throat chakra, which tends to get tight and shaky with anything resembling confrontation. We will make a ritual of hashing issues out. We will not stop until we have shared to our hearts’ content. Afterward, we will burn sage to neutralize the energy of the room, and we will sing and dance atop our spotless rug. We will embrace each other fully.

On the other side of the candles, there are two sea shells that I collected as a child. They snuggle close together, these strong shells. I imagine us as the beings dwelling within the shell, reaching out and embracing one another. I imagine that sometimes our outer shells may knock into each other, but that our inner gooeyness always prevails. I love the ocean, but I am not a great swimmer. Going deeper than I can touch is scary for me. I love that I do not even have to explain how overwhelming the ocean is to me; you can feel it as we hold hands with our toes burrowing into the sand. You do not force or make fun. You have the patience to assist me into the deeper waters at my own pace.

In front of the candles is a spread of crystals and stones, all sacred in their own right. The one that oversees the others is a simple earth-toned stone which reads “balance”. We balance each other, you and me. The relationship is one of gentle fierceness and palpable silence. It is one which defies definition and fills our needs without draining the other. It is balanced in the most beautifully secure and simultaneously freeing way.

In the middle of the crystal spread is black tourmaline, which is representative of how grounded and protected our partnership is. We are safe from psychic attacks and from the withered emotions of passersby or relationships past. We are here, now, in this very moment. We are present. We are vulnerable. We are raw. We are real. We are human.

What a beautiful journey we will have together.

With love,



What’s great is to look back and realize how much of that I’ve given myself. The tenderness and the open communication and the respect… GO ME.

A+ job at being Jen, Jen!




What would you say to your future life partner? Or if you wrote your current partner a love letter from the past, what would you say?


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Some days, I paint. Other days, I write. And rap. And tell stories. And do comedy. And doodle. And [attempt to] bake. And, one week out of every month, I merge with my sofa and sob about mortality and things like the existence of air and how we can't live without it and how utterly claustrophobic that is to consider. I'm relatively particular. And this is a place for me to share ALL the quirks.

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