Hey Heidi,
You hate me. I get it. I’m not crazy about you either. There’s so much to dislike—in both of us, I guess.
Unpleasantly Yours,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
We’re too different. You’re black leather jackets and tattoos, and I’m a conforming artist. You were smoking cigarettes behind the bleachers while I sat on the metal slats in my band uniform pining for boys who were out of my league. You either think you’re better than me or know you’re worse. Neither option help us get past any of this.
Trying,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
We’re older now. I didn’t get to see your awkward phase, and you didn’t see mine. Does that make you believe I didn’t have one? That I was one of those girls who earned confidence at an age when it mattered more.
I didn’t.
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
If you were a man, none of this would have bothered me as much as it does. It would have been less of a betrayal. In a male-centric business, we should have looked out for each other. I wanted to look out for you, but I was too busy watching my back—sure that you would plunge a knife into it. And you did.
Disappointed (but not surprised),
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe I was as skeptical of you as you were me. Maybe it was a translucent attempt to overcompensate for being a woman. How I tried to make us a team because we had vaginas, children, an aversion to the patriarchy. But they bred us to see each other as competition, and if we went head-to-head, I would make sure I was the one to win.
We can blame it on society.
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
It’s probably difficult for you to believe I spent most of my life being diminutive and terrified of confrontation. You met me in my thirties, but I wasn’t always self-assured. In the past, I would have done whatever it took to ensure you liked me, even when there was no chance. I would kill you with kindness and then bring you back to life for long enough to feel my love. Because I could have loved you, even when I hated you, if it meant you would love me too.
Love,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
Our relationship would have been better if my sorority sweetness didn’t dissipate in college and fully disappear when I spent years as a teacher. I thought working with creatives would be a transcendental experience. Weren’t we all on the same page? Wouldn’t we brainstorm together, love the art, lift each other to the next level? Did you throw your back out trying to lift my ego? Or was it me who couldn’t muster the strength?
Artistically Yours,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
Did you know that the men in the office found our feud hilarious? We gave them what they expected, and they took sides while knowing they could trounce us both. When you yelled at me in front of a group of them, you gave them life. And my tears gave them a proper show. We both looked weak. You, jealous. Me, emotional. They would’ve cried, too, but we didn’t leave them with room for rumination. I lost my lashes weeping over your words, and you lost their respect. At least I wasn’t the only one.
Your enemy,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
You’re the first woman I ever considered hitting. When I told my mother the story, she told me I should have slapped you. I never thought my mother would give me that advice, and if I knew she would I probably would have dropped you in that hotel hallway. I won, and you wanted me to lose. You hated that it was me standing on the stage and not you. You thought you would earn clout with the crew because they grew to hate me too. But they took my side, because there was only one right side. And we left you behind.
From the front of the line,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
I didn’t want to despise you, but you made it impossible not to. Perhaps I made it impossible not to hate me too. Maybe it was never possible for us to be anything more than enemies. I want to believe that’s not the case, but I also want to believe that world peace is an achievable goal. I’m an idealist which contributed to the issue from the start—don’t you think?
I’m not proud.
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
I don’t care what you think. I don’t care about you at all. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m writing you these letters so there’s a part of me that wants to speak to a part of you. I want an apology I will never get. I want you to understand that you fed into every stereotype about women in the workplace. I want you to know that I know that too. Most of all, I want you to know that we’ll always be different, and that’s all right.
With hope,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
For old time’s sake…fuck you. You thought you could get rid of me, that I didn’t have enough talent to continue to press you the way I did for months before I parted ways with the boys who laughed at our catty fights. I didn’t want to compete with you, not because I didn’t think I would win, but because I didn’t want it to be necessary. But here we are, stewing in our hatred, taking turns trying to hold one another back. We should have been better.
Ridiculed but stronger,
Sarah
Hey Heidi,
I hate your leggings. Your shoes don’t go with your dress, and you’re a mean girl. Who hurt you? When all is said and done, I hope it was me.
Hatefully,
Sarah
