Let Go Promotes Healing

Behind the Artwork

Close-up of hand written Let Go statements

It is surprising, in a way, how I could have written almost all of the one hundred twenty-six Let Go letters or sentences that were submitted. Though the details of our stories may differ, our struggles are often very similar. And these common experiences of pain and loss connect us like a dot-to-dot drawing.

Throughout ArtPrize Nine, new friendships have been formed and old friendships have deepened. The opportunity to support one another through interactive healing art continues to link us together and strengthens us to face the future. This letter about challenging relationships highlights yet another healing and hope-filled journey.

Dear Surrender,

My life is a mess. Over the past two years, I have hurt more than ever in all my life. I have felt so lost and lonely.

My heart says I need help, but logic says I need to protect myself from more hurt. Drink and eat more. Shut down. But the physical pain of overeating will not bring me peace. It only drives me towards more isolation and shame.

But it’s time to turn a corner. It’s time to reclaim my life. So here’s to surrender:

I am letting go of my perception of what a husband should do.
I’m letting go of a daughter’s choice to focus on sex and shallow relationships.
I’m letting go of self-judgment over my parenting.
I’m letting go of a dad who manipulates.
I’m letting go of a mother who has no clue.
I’m letting of a sister who stays silent.
I’m letting go of a brother who disappoints.
I’m letting go of a co-worker who has no right.
I’m letting go of insecurity and self-hate.
I’m letting go!

Sincerely,
Called to Surrender

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Let Go Inspirational Sentences Vol. 4

Behind the Artwork

Close-up of hand written Let Go statements

Let Go statements from the ArtPrize participants:

I’m letting go of all the hate.

I am letting go of my shame.

I’m letting go of expectations.

I’m letting go of regrets about things I’ve said.

I’m letting go of the fear of never being enough.

I’m letting go of my failure in a broken relationship.

I’m forgiving my friends. I’m letting go of the judgments and grudges against them.

Let Go and Healing

Many participants wrote Let Go statements about difficult relationships. Interactive healing art invites honest reflection. And as a result, many ArtPrize visitors are experiencing a new level of freedom as they begin to Let Go of the things that weigh them down or drag them under.

I am letting go of all the hurt my husband has put me through. I know he doesn’t mean it. But it still makes my heart bleed.
Signed, Lindsay

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

A Heart Surrendered

From the Heart

Heart rate at 300 beats per minute

“Mrs. Alderman, your new-born baby’s heart rate is 300 beats per minute.” He explained that a baby’s heart rate should be around 120 beats per minute. But our son’s heart rate raced almost three times faster. I bit my lip and fought tears.

Over the next several days, doctors or nurses surrounded our baby, Grant, in the cardiac unit every time his heart monitor went off. A few days into the crisis, a doctor admitted, “Mrs. Alderman, your baby is very sick.” What he meant was, “Mrs. Alderman, your son could die.” For the next 16 days, a team of doctors worked to find the right medication level to stabilize our son’s heart.

Physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion threatened me. Would our baby live? Would he play sports like the other boys? Why couldn’t I have a healthy baby like other mothers?

Desperate, I knelt on the floor in children’s hospital chapel and pleaded for a miracle.

The process of letting go was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. How does a mother surrender a son? For my own mental health and emotional survival, I needed to give up control—to lay down my hopes and dreams. In the end, I could do nothing to save our son’s life.

But after 16 painful days, my miracle actually came. Grant’s heart stabilized, and the doctors obtained the right medication level. That Christmas I received a precious gift: my son’s life.

Let Go of Loss

From the Heart

Close-up of a section of Let Go

This brave young woman agreed to let me print her Let Go letter. A story of rejection and loss. Her honesty and candor gives the reader a glimpse into the struggle of letting go. Often the act of letting go isn’t simply a one-time event.

Sometimes the hurt is so deep and searing that the healing doesn’t come overnight. The process can take years. For some, the steps of letting go—forgiving and leaving the past behind—must be repeated again and again before the sun begins to shine again.

Dear Trevor,

You hurt me more than anyone ever has. It’s the kind of pain that cuts me to the core and makes me wonder if I’ll ever feel okay again. It hurts like hell to find out you were just using me.

When I found out that I had miscarried, it was the darkest day of my life.

I think about my lost baby every single night and my heart aches. Trevor, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you, but I will try. I will fight every day to get back to the person I was before I fell for you. I will remind myself that I am worthy of love and that I’m not ruined by you. So here’s to forgiveness—letting go and moving on.

And to my baby, I so desperately wish I could hold you. I love you with all my heart.

Love,
Sydney

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Let Go of Pain

Behind the Artwork

Let Go in progress

Dad, you’re supposed to protect me from people like you. All I ever wanted was your love and approval. My heart longs for a real father.
Signed, your daughter

This statement was written by a college student whose heart bled through the pen as her pain-filled words gushed onto paper. Like this young woman, the majority of the Let Go submissions I received dealt with the emotional wounds from divorce. Both children and adults wrote about the devastating effects of broken and fractured families.

The opportunity to write Let Go letters and sentences helped individuals to identify an area in their life that needed growth or change. By doing this, new steps towards hope and healing resulted. The letter below was written by a young man trying to rebalance his life after tremendous hurdles—including divorce. Though his journey towards healing has been very hard, his strength and resolve to regain hope is remarkable.

Dear Dad,

I was abandoned in the womb—by you. Five years later, I was adopted. So I left my foster home to live in a new home. It was scary moving into a totally different place.

My new parents tried to love me, but they were too busy. In my new home, there was no discipline. No help with my homework. So I was abandoned again.

When I was fourteen, my new parents divorced. After that, things changed again. Now I would wake up and make my own breakfast. I came home to an empty house after school, and I had to make my own dinner.

Things didn’t work out with my new mom, so I moved into my new dad’s home. I started getting into trouble and doing drugs to hide the pain. One day my new dad called me a “loser” and kicked me out.

Dad, I don’t blame you or my new parents. Everyone had their own issues. Although I still struggle with the loser tapes playing in my head, it’s time to let go of my past. I’m letting go of rejection. I’m letting go of the anger from being abandoned. It’s time to search out my own destiny.

Love ya, Dad—even though I have never met you,
Your son

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Healing Art: PTSD and Soldier Suicide

From the Heart

Hometown Hero II at the Pentagon in Washington DC

In 2016, my work called Hometown Hero II exhibited at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. with Reflections of Generosity—a traveling exhibit that promotes healing for our military families. This year’s work continues to support our military families. The following Let Go letter is about the difficult journey of one Blue Star Mom whose son attempted suicide.

The Blue Star Mothers is an organization made up of moms with a son or daughter in the military. Their goal is to provide support for service members and their families—especially for those struggling with PTSD and soldier suicide. This important letter gives insight into some of the struggles that our military community faces long after the soldier returns home.

Dear M,

I thought the hardest part of our son being in the Army was going to be the deployments. The months without seeing his face. I worried: Is he eating enough? Is he cold? Is he doing okay?

But now we are now dealing with his PTSD symptoms and attempted suicide. It’s been eight months since he tried to pull the trigger. Thankfully, the blessed gun jammed.

Even after months of treatment, his wife doesn’t want him in the house. She says she is afraid. So he is staying with us, but he doesn’t sleep much. I listen to him pacing the floor at night, and I cry. Why can’t I help him?

It was so easy to take care of him when he was little—even when he got hurt. I could just talk to him and things would be all better. Life isn’t that simple anymore. He just goes to work and to his counseling appointments—that is his whole life now.

I want my son back. I feel like watching his internal battle is slowly killing me. I’m now choosing to let go of my lack of control. I need to take this step for my own emotional healing.

Miss you,
J

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Let Go: Interactive Art Brings Healing

Behind the Artwork

ArtPrize Nine: Let Go in progress

One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go sentences that were collaged into my ArtPrize Nine painting. One letter stated: “I forgive you for the pain you caused, and I release you from any responsibility to heal me.”

After reading this profound statement, I contacted the writer to see if she would be willing to share her story. She agreed. The following vignette shows the healing progression from a wounded heart to extending forgiveness to finally letting go. In many cases, the journey towards healing can be difficult but not impossible.

Mom,

You said that I shouldn’t be affected by your decision to divorce my dad. What you didn’t realize was that you not only closed yourself off from Dad, but from me as well. When you would shut yourself away in your room and tell me not to bother you, I learned that I no longer had a mother to depend on; I had to fend for myself.

When I left for work one day, you changed the locks to prevent my dad from coming in. But you didn’t realize this: you shut me out too. Over and over, you chose your “freedom” and your “own” path, in exchange for me. Your choices cut a deep wound in my heart.

Then one day, I realized that you would probably never apologize, so I needed to forgive you or my bitterness would end up consuming me. I had to accept you for being you, instead of wishing you were some other mom.

Mom, I’m letting go of my expectations of what our relationship should look like. I forgive you for the pain you caused, and I release you from any responsibility to heal me.

Love,
Your daughter

Let Go and Keeping Hope Alive

Karen was sexually abused as a child. Although her parents ignored the situation at the time, she is now, as an adult, seeking the necessary professional help. Amazingly, interactive art has been part of her healing journey.

I am letting go of the emotional and physical abuse. I’m going for help. Letting go of the anger releases me from resentment and frustration. Just writing this helps me to understand how wrong the abuse is and that I do not need to own it.

Signed, Karen

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.