The Mailbox Inside My Chest Part 2 - Dear The Two Who Chose Me

A “Letters Never Sent” Blog Series by Ra’Mone Marquis

Some people become parents through biology.

Others become parents through sacrifice.

Through consistency.

Through protection.

Through staying.

Through love powerful enough to reshape someone’s life.

Titles can be earned emotionally, not biologically.

And when I think about “mom” and “dad”…

I think about my maternal grandparents.

I think about the two people who chose me.

Dear The Two Who Chose Me,

I don’t even know where to begin.

How do you properly thank the people who helped keep you alive emotionally?

How do you explain what it means to be loved so deeply that your survival becomes tied to someone else’s presence?

I know people often hear me talk about my granny.

And yes… she’s always my #1.

Our bond was something people around us could see without either one of us saying a word.

But Granddaddy…

this letter belongs to you too.

Because the truth is:

I was raised by both of you.

Loved by both of you.

Protected by both of you.

Chosen by both of you.

And nobody can tell me differently.

Y’all weren’t “like” my parents.

Y’all were my parents.

You earned those titles with your lives.

You gave me safety.

You gave me structure.

You gave me warmth.

You gave me memories.

You gave me examples of sacrifice.

You gave me a place to emotionally land when the world felt confusing.

And most importantly…

you gave me love that didn’t feel conditional.

The older I get, the more I realize how life-saving that truly was.

Because there were seasons in my life where I was drowning internally.

Seasons where pain was becoming heavier than my ability to carry it.

Seasons where I genuinely didn’t know if I would survive myself.

And for nearly seven years…

Granny, you were the only person who knew the full weight of that.

Two failed suicide attempts.

A level of emotional exhaustion I rarely speak openly about.

A darkness I tried to hide from almost everyone around me.

But you knew.

You saw it.

You carried it.

You worried.

You prayed.

You stayed.

And somehow…

our bond became even deeper.

Not because pain is beautiful.

But because love became undeniable.

I think one of the hardest things to explain to people is this:

The right people loved me so deeply that I survived the wrong people.

That sentence carries my entire heart.

Because while certain people failed me emotionally and physically…

y’all loved me enough to stop those failures from completely destroying me.

And I know neither one of y’all were perfect.

No human being is.

But perfection was never what made y’all extraordinary.

It was the consistency.

The presence.

The effort.

The choosing.

Y’all made me feel wanted.

And for a child carrying abandonment & neglect wounds…

that changes everything.

Even now, after loss.

After grief.

After all these years.

I still carry both of you inside me.

In my voice.

In my resilience.

In my creativity.

In my softness.

In my discipline.

In my ability to keep going.

You built a home inside me that death itself could not fully remove.

And some days…

I still hope I’m making y’all proud.

Actually no.

Not “some days.”

All days.

Because the older I get, the more I understand how much love it took to raise me the way y’all did.

I hope you know:

none of it was wasted.

Not the sacrifices.

Not the prayers.

Not the lessons.

Not the love.

I am still standing because two people decided I was worth standing beside.

Thank you for choosing me.

Love always,

Ra’Mone

These were never just letters…They were surviving out loud.

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The Mailbox Inside My Chest Blog Series

Part 1 - Dear Younger Me

Part 3 - Dear The People I Kept Hoping Would Choose Me - Coming 6/16