By Erika G. Bertling

Dear fellow sojourners,

I recently had the privilege of speaking on a panel for FIGT's "Let's Talk" series, discussing the anthology Letters Now Sent – a collection of over 90 letters written by the globally mobile to the people who shaped them. Hannele, our moderator, described reading the anthology as taking her on a "positive roller-coaster journey" – those emotional ups and downs that might feel unsettling in the moment, but allow us to feel into things we might have left unprocessed.

We so often think of emotional turbulence as something to avoid or push through quickly. But what if riding those rises and falls is what we need? What if the discomfort of feeling deeply is a path toward understanding ourselves more fully?

My letter was written to my late father, three years after his death from an uncommon blood cancer diagnosed just weeks into the pandemic. When you lose a parent, you face an unavoidable question: who am I now that they're gone? The memories remain, the love remains, but the daily unfolding of who you are to someone and who they are to you – that stops.

And yet, it doesn't have to stop completely. Through writing, I discovered gifts I didn't even know I'd received; ways I live and move in the world that were passed down through example rather than explanation. My father, a tall white American from upstate New York, gracefully accepted perpetual discomfort throughout our years in Japan so that others might know comfort. He accepted the vulnerability of being perpetually misunderstood so that the thousands he trained might develop the capacity to understand across difference. As a child, I couldn't see these things clearly. I needed distance, grief, and the discipline of letter-writing to make them visible.

This is where the private becomes even more powerful as public. During our discussion, the panel acknowledged the vulnerability of sharing something so deeply personal with strangers. Letter-writing as a solitary practice is certainly therapeutic. But letter-writing that's witnessed? That creates resonance, recognition, and the profound relief of knowing you're not alone in your complexity.

The panelists came from very different backgrounds – MKs who went to boarding school in the '50s and '60s, TCKs navigating mixed heritage, people writing to siblings, parents, mentors. Yet we all used the intimacy of letter-writing to excavate truths we couldn't access any other way. The act of addressing someone specific gives shape to feelings that might otherwise remain formless.

We also discussed using letter-writing in therapy, and how the whole project was inspired by Ruth Van Reken's Letters Never Sent, which has been a loving invitation for countless globally mobile people to process difficult feelings. Letters that are publicly witnessed can become mirrors for our own unexamined experiences, prompts for our own unwritten missives, and companions in the unique loneliness of a life lived between cultures. When you recognize your own thoughts in someone else's words, it's a form of being found – proof that you're not the only one carrying these questions, these losses, these complicated inheritances.

So here's my invitation: What letter have you not yet written? To whom would you address your unprocessed joy, grief, gratitude, or anger? It doesn't need to be sent. It doesn't need to be polished. It just needs to be honest.

And if you're willing to share that private work publicly – know that your vulnerability might be exactly the invitation someone else needs to begin their own positive roller-coaster journey toward self-understanding.

With warmth from wherever we call home,

Erika

P.S. If you’d like to watch the recording of the panel, you can find it HERE, and a .pdf of the panelist’s letters can be found HERE. The anthology, Letters Now Sent, is available HERE. A perfect gift for yourself or another TCK in your life!

 Erika G. Bertling is an intercultural educator, coach, and consultant who partners with people to help them navigate culture and embody their purpose.  She’s a mixed-race East Asian TCK who grew up in Okinawa, Japan and then went on to live and work in multiple international settings. 

Currently based in Los Angeles, she’s passionate about the ongoing work of equity and inclusion and enjoys being able to work virtually and in-person with clients no matter where they’re located.