“Some pages you write with your pen. Others you write with your tears.”
👑 Dear Royalty, when I was writing Letters to My Parents, there was one page that broke me. I wrote it, tore it up, wrote it again, and still cried when I read it back. Even today, when I flip through the manuscript, that page makes my chest tighten. It is the page where I wrote about fathers.
Not just men who gave life, but fathers who stayed. Fathers who were present. Fathers who spoke.
I remember sitting in a hall with over 150 young people once. The energy was light at first, laughter, whispers, restless movements. Then the guest speaker walked in and asked a single question: “How many of you grew up with your father’s words shaping you?”
Slowly, one hand here, another hand there. By the end, only a handful of hands were raised. The silence in that room was deafening. Too many youths were crying to be heard, and their fathers were absent, not always physically, but in the silence of their voices.
That was the same silence I was writing against. I thought about my own father. He was not perfect, but he was present. His discipline steadied me. His courage lifted me. His agreement with my mother made our home safe. He didn’t say everything, but he said enough for me to know I was loved. And I realised that those few words, spoken with consistency, shaped me more than money or status ever could.
That is why the tears came. Because while I could write a thank-you to my father, I have met too many sons and daughters who cannot. I have met brilliant young people broken because the one voice they longed for was silent. I have heard the words again and again: “He gave me everything… except his words.”
Silence is not innocent. It is not neutral. Silence builds walls. And if those walls are not broken, they stand taller than love itself.
On that page, I wrote: “The absence of fathers is one of the strongest predictors of broken futures. Our children are paying the price for the things we refuse to confront and that is a price far too high.”
I left those words in the book not because they were easy, but because they were necessary. Sometimes the truths that make us cry are the very truths that can set us free.
Here are the lessons I carry from that page:
- Fathers, your words are your children’s compass. They will grow into or away from your voice.
- Mothers, your voice builds esteem. Your affirmation is the soil in which confidence grows.
- Children, gratitude can heal more than you realise. Sometimes the letter you write is the balm your parent has been waiting for.
Dear Royalty, Letters to My Parents is not just a book to be read. It is a mirror. A conversation starter. A lifeline for homes where silence has spoken too long. I cried on that page so that maybe, just maybe, your home could find its words again.
Families are not healed by silence. They are healed when love is spoken, when love is heard, and when love is lived.
Letters to My Parents comes out in a Month! Are you ready?
📖 Get your copy today:
Selar (Paperback): Pre Order – Letters to My Parents
Amazon (E-book): CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER
#LettersToMyParents #HealingHomes #FamilyLegacy
October 10, 2025
Leave a Reply