I have never truly understood the significance of a love letter.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never received one, or if I did, I never considered it a love letter. Through media, I created this concept that a love letter was a ticket to one’s heart, the end all be all: a romantic and physical note written in cursive with hearts surrounding the page. 

Within its folds would be someone confessing their undying love for their best friend or stating all the things they adore about their partner.

Starting with “Dear,” and ending with “Love,” is how a love letter appears in my mind.

I believe my fascination with this age-old concept started in middle school when I read the To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before trilogy: a story where a teenage girl spends her entire life writing secret love letters to each crush she’s had to release her feelings without having to confess. Physical notes, written in cursive, hearts surrounding the page, and starting with “Dear,” ending in “Love,”. 

I soon fell in love with the idea of love letters, even youthfully trying to write my own to my past crushes, obviously with no intent to actually mail them, but they always ended in frustration.

I hated writing on paper.

My cursive wasn’t pretty.

The hearts looked more like spades.

And writing “Dear,” and “Love,” made me cringe.

Inevitably, I gave up. Writing love letters was harder than I thought; the words didn’t just flow out of my soul as they did in the books and movies, and they started to lose their appeal.

Recently, I had come to a realization. Love letters are all around me.

They’re in a simple “I love you” text from my mom; I find them in shared playlists and compliments on my shoes. A simple “I’m proud of you” or a comment on my Instagram post.

While these things don’t fit into the love letter mold I had created, they represent the small actions that make me feel appreciated and feed into my love language: words of affirmation.

I find love letters in the texts in my friend group’s chat and the birthday cards I have received in the past few years, the photos that sit in my favorites folder, and the notes that hang above my desk.

As much as I would love to receive a true and raw love letter from someone someday, I will forever be satisfied with the little tokens of appreciation I receive from the people I appreciate most, whether it’s a text, a song, or a “this reminded me of you” text. 

Though my love letter fascination is fulfilled through these daily occurrences, it makes me wonder if those around me have made this discovery as well. 

Do others hope to receive a love letter someday? Do they realize the copious amounts of love that surround them each and every day? 

I’ve decided love letters don’t need to be overly romantic; they don’t need to be written on paper, in cursive, or with hearts around the border. They don’t even have to contain “Dear,” or “Love,” for them to be considered a love letter.

Although I know love letters don’t have to contain these things or even have to exist in letter form, there’s still a part of me that hopes to receive one.

With this fantasy sitting in my mind, I decided to write some of my own. Not for myself, but for others. Traditional letters that will fit my mold, relieve my past frustrations, and show my appreciation for my closest friends and family.

I need to stop selfishly hoping one day I will receive a letter and take initiative to show those around me how much I love them.

This is your sign to send love letters, and I will too.