Dear Bella,
You never mentioned how challenging this adulthood journey would be.
I’ve unearthed the letters you penned to me throughout my childhood, written in your delicate fairy script. Don’t worry; they’re tucked away safely in a heart-shaped box alongside all the precious trinkets I wouldn’t allow my mom to discard. Your tiny notes have been such a treasure to me; in many ways, they shaped who I’ve become.
You started writing to me when I was around 7 or 8. My friend, Lila, had a fairy named Dreamwhisper, whom I met during a sleepover, and that’s when I discovered I had my very own special fairy. I reached out to you, asking you to be my friend.
You responded promptly, introducing yourself as Bella.
For years, we exchanged letters. I’d leave you a note by my bedside, and while I was lost in my dreams, you would flutter in and leave me a message in your lovely script. You came whenever I wrote about my joys, sorrows, frustrations, or confusions. You were always there, never late, leaving little gifts like sparkling earrings for your “Shining Star.”
You inquired about my family, as if you were already familiar with them. You taught me the importance of keeping my room tidy, the joy of sharing, and why I should cherish my little brother: “Try not to hold any hatred; having a brother is a gift.”
You were spot on about that, Bella. I blinked, and now he’s grown into a remarkable man—kind, intelligent, and protective. He shaves, carries a briefcase, and earns his own living. No matter how far apart we are, he’s always just a call away, ready to listen and help.
You were quite clever, Bella, subtly encouraging me to express gratitude to my parents: “It makes them happy! They work hard for you.”
Repeatedly, you reminded me, “Don’t forget to smile!” as if you could foresee the tears yet to come.
“Keep smiling, and the world will smile back at you!”
But sometimes, Bella, the world just doesn’t seem to smile. Perhaps you left that part out on purpose.
Eventually, the day arrived when you informed me that you had to depart, moving on to the next little girl who needed you because I had outgrown you, my cherished fairy. I hope you’re now with a special little girl who requires your magic during her dark nights. I remember you once mentioned being delayed because you were caring for sick children. If that’s still true, I hope you’re teaching them they are never truly alone in this daunting world.
You told me that girls typically only write at my age when they seek counsel.
“Do you need some advice?”
Yes, Bella, I do need advice.
I’ve been searching for you. Why and when did you vanish? I’m still here. I grew up, learned to drive, went to college, got a job, started paying bills, and moved far from home. I understand how hard it must be to find me now, thousands of miles away from my childhood, but I’m still right here.
Each year, decision by decision, I grew up. Why? Because you taught me that growing up means learning how to smile.
A couple of times, you even showed me how to help my friends believe in something as tiny as a fairy. You advised me to wear the locket you gifted me to prove your existence to those who couldn’t believe. You told me to keep your letters, as they held beautiful lessons I could share with the next little girl.
I’ve safeguarded them, Bella. They’re beautiful stories that I promise to pass on.
I’m reaching out to you now, even though you told me years ago that I was too old for your magic. I’m penning this letter in hopes that you might come back. If you see my note, if you hear me, will you let me know? There have been others along my path who didn’t respond as quickly as you always did. They didn’t always comfort me when I wept.
This adulthood journey is, in fact, quite difficult—much harder than you ever revealed.
And, Bella, one last thing… I forgot to express my gratitude.
Even though you didn’t prepare me for the challenges of life, I recognize that you genuinely tried. You did your utmost to equip me for the winding and bumpy journey ahead. You were there for me, responding to every tear-stained letter, and loving me in the smallest yet most profound ways.