Dear Heather...
- Heather Burkett-Ocasio
- Jul 14
- 6 min read
Dear Heather,
There are a few things I need to tell you.
Not because you're doing anything wrong.
Not because I want to change the story.
Just because I know there were moments when you desperately wished someone could tell you how it all turns out.
So, consider this a letter from the future.
Or maybe several letters.
To several versions of you.
Because you've been a lot of different Heathers over the years.
And each one needed something different.
Dear Heather,
Congratulations!
After years of excelling in English, your teacher has submitted your short story to the Young Author's Conference...
And you won.
The award allows you to miss a day of school to attend the conference, where Mom will spend what feels like a small fortune on books.
But that's not what you'll remember most.
You'll meet your very first published author.
Sadly, I no longer remember who that author was.
I don't remember their name. I don't remember what they looked like. I don't even remember what they wrote.
But I remember how they made me feel.
For the first time in your young life, you'll realize that authors aren't mythical creatures. They're real people.
And if they can do it...
Maybe you can, too.
Keep dreaming, little Dreamer.
We're going to need it.
Dear Heather,
Junior High is rough.
Actually, that's putting it mildly.
You're bullied relentlessly, and it all comes to a terrifying climax when your bully is caught bringing a gun to school.
It's scary.
It's unfair.
And there will be days when you feel very small.
But here's the thing.
You survive it.
Not only that, but you take that experience and turn it into an essay that earns you a Youth Crime Watch award.
Your teachers are proud.
Your parents are proud.
And for a brief moment, you're proud of yourself.
It will still take years before you fully find your voice.
Years before you trust it.
Years before you use it the way you're meant to.
But trust me.
It's there.
Dear Heather,
Your twenties won't look anything like you imagined.
College won't quite work out the way you planned.
Friendships will shift.
Family dynamics will change.
You'll swear off dating after a string of disappointing relationships.
And then one ordinary day, while driving your little 1986 Honda Civic Hatchback, a city dump truck will hit you.
The impact will tear your car apart and rip your scalp open.
You'll find yourself sitting in twisted metal with blood streaming down your face, wondering if this is it.
You'll be airlifted to Ryder Trauma Center where it will take 130 stitches to reattach your forehead.
And ten hours later?
You'll walk out under your own power.
The trauma from that day will stay with you for a long time.
But so will the lesson.
You're stronger than you think.
You're tougher than you know.
And you're going to survive.
Remember that.
Because it won't be the last time you need to hear it.
Dear Heather,
You're about to discover a little book series called Twilight.
And whether people laugh about it or not, it's going to change your life.
You'll start reading again.
You'll start traveling to conventions.
You'll meet people who become lifelong friends.
You'll discover Fan-Fiction and fall headfirst into writing communities.
Within nine weeks, you'll write your first full-length novel.
When your friends print and bind it for you, you'll cry the first time you hold it in your hands.
You'll return to school.
You'll take creative writing courses.
For the first time in a long time, you'll feel creatively alive.
Life will feel full of possibility.
But life has a funny way of mixing joy and heartbreak.
Just when everything feels like it's opening up, it will knock the wind out of you.
Mom...
Your best friend...
Will pass away.
And it will break your heart.
Not in a poetic way.
Not in a movie way.
In a real way.
The kind of grief that settles into your bones and changes you forever.
You won't be the same afterward.
But somehow, you'll keep moving forward.
You'll become the woman she raised you to be.
And then, while you're still trying to put yourself back together, you'll find yourself trapped in an abusive relationship.
There will be days when you're scared.
Days when you're lonely.
Days when you genuinely don't know how you'll find your way out.
But you will.
Hang on.
You're going to be okay.
Dear Heather,
Just when you're about ready to give up on love altogether, a man will send you a message online.
At first, you'll assume he's like everyone else, but he's not.
He's different.
And do you know what he asks for?
Not your phone number.
Not a date.
Not pictures.
Your writing.
You'll offer him a choice.
A one-chapter story, twelve-chapter story, or a fifty-two-chapter story.
To your complete surprise, he'll choose the twelve-chapter story.
Then something unexpected happens.
He reads it...like, really reads it.
He comments on the characters, reacts to scenes, shares his theories.
He wants to know what happens next.
When you finally agree to meet him, you'll find a white feather on the passenger seat of your closed, locked car and you'll know it's a sign from your guardian angel.
You'll let him in, and thank goodness you do.
Because his name is Angel.
And he will become exactly that.
I wish I could tell you the rest is happily ever after, but life doesn't work that way. In 2022, your father will fall and shatter his thigh bone.
COVID restrictions will keep you from seeing him for weeks, and when you finally do, you'll know.
Something has changed.
Not long afterward, you'll stand beside your Daddy and hold him as he takes his final breaths.
Grief will absolutely crush you and, while you're still trying to process that loss, you'll receive a diagnosis of your own.
Uterine cancer.
One month after burying your father, you'll undergo a hysterectomy. You'll lose your ability to have children. And there will be moments when the pain feels impossible.
But you'll never carry it alone.
Because by then, you've found your Angel.
Dear Heather,
After your father's death, you'll pack up your childhood home.
The home you lived in for four decades.
The home filled with memories.
The home that helped make you who you are.
And you'll move to Jacksonville.
At the time, it will feel terrifying.
Later, you'll realize it was one of the best decisions you ever made.
You'll fall in love with the seven bridges, the moss-covered trees, and the people who actually stop and talk when you say "hello."
You'll meet incredible women who challenge you, encourage you, and inspire you.
And something unexpected will begin to happen.
You'll start to like yourself.
You'll feel freer.
More confident.
More comfortable in your own skin.
You'll launch Events With A Twist and spend your weekends creating scavenger hunts, mystery parties, and unforgettable memories for your guests...and you'll absolutely love it.
Then, in 2025, you'll face one of the hardest decisions of your life.
Your health will force you to walk away from something you built with your own two hands.
And you'll grieve it.
You still are.
But when every other option disappears, something remarkable happens.
You sit down to write.
One day.
One chapter.
One story.
In January, you'll write a young adult fantasy called Kissed: A Toadily True Tale.
The following month, you'll write Peckers: The Pact.
And on June 9, 2026, you'll hold your very first author launch.
Remember that little girl at the Young Author's Conference?
The one who met a published author and dared to think, "Maybe I could do that someday."
She was right.
Dear Heather,
I don't know what comes next.
There will be more plot twists.
More heartbreak.
More joy.
More adventures.
More stories.
More dreams.
But there is one thing I know.
That little girl who met her first published author all those years ago?
She became one.
And I think she'd be pretty proud of us for that.
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