🌿I recently picked up "Writing Works: A Resource Handbook for Therapeutic Writing Workshops and Activities," edited by Bolton, Field, and Thompson. It’s a practical, insightful book full of ways to use writing, narrative and poetry as therapeutic tools. One of the many exercises invites us to revisit a classic intervention - the unsent letter.
The unsent letter is a long-standing therapeutic technique with roots in psychodynamic, humanistic, Gestalt and narrative therapy traditions. No one can quite claim it as their invention, which makes sense, as it’s one of those simple, powerful ideas that feels like it’s always been around. It has shown up in my practice regularly over the years, and I’ve always found it to be a gentle but effective way for clients to access emotions, clarify thoughts, and sometimes even find closure without needing a reply.
I’ve got a personal rule (and I hope most of us do) to try any strategy myself before bringing it into the therapy room. So, of course, years ago, I wrote my own unsent letter as part of a training task. Reading Writing Works nudged me to give it another go. So, I sat down with a cuppa and gave myself ten minutes to write to a relative I haven’t seen in over 20 years.
It was surprisingly grounding. There wasn’t any big unresolved drama or conflict, just some distance, shaped by time and life choices. But putting pen to paper helped me notice something quietly satisfying: I’m at peace with that distance. Life has moved forward, and I don’t feel the need to bridge that gap anymore. The exercise was soothing in a way I didn’t expect, proof that this tool isn’t just for processing conflict, but can also help affirm contentment and clarity. I know which part of my brain to file this information away in, accessible if needed, but not something I may trip over or feel unnerved by.
💠Closing Thought
If you’ve got a few minutes and a relationship that’s been sitting quietly in the back of your mind, you might want to give this exercise a try. No high-tech tools required, just curiosity, a bit of space, and perhaps a warm drink. Who knows what might surface?
It’s lovely to share a few quiet moments with you today.
Until next time,
💛🌿 Helen
If you would like to support me further or are interested in working therapeutically with young people, consider buying my book:
We forget how much clarity can come from writing to someone, even if they never read it. Sometimes that’s all we need - to put the feelings somewhere with a little more direction. A letter, even just a one-time thing, carries a different kind of energy. It has shape and intention. It asks something of us. Thanks for the reminder of its power and usefulness!