Letters to July // Day 31

Dear July,

Wow we did it.

A whole month.

We made it through this entire month together, talking (almost) everyday and I haven’t gotten too annoyed with you!

July, I’m always surprised by how busy our time is together.

We went to several parties together, hung out with some of our favorite friends, went to freshman orientation and had our last camp.

July, we faced our creative blocks, and our struggles to keep hold of reality.

July we made a lot of dumb decisions and said a lot of dumb things.

July, we doubted ourselves, we doubted each other, we doubted our friends, we doubted our faith.

But, July, you helped me rebuild.

You gave me new relationships and the confidence that maybe I’m not as bad at making friends as I thought.

July, you’ve helped meet realize who I can hold on to and who it’s time to let go.

You gave me space to think and process everything happening.

July, you gave me coping mechanisms- I mean, who would’ve guessed I’m really into watercolor painting.

July, I’m still really scared about what’s going to happen after I leave you tonight until I see you again, but I think I have a bit more confidence that I can do it.

Because July, I’m allowed to give myself my best chance. And I’m allowed to have people help me figure things out when my mind is too clouded.

Please don’t worry about me, July.

I think I’ll be just fine.

I’ll miss you!

Until we meet again-

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 30

Dear July,

I want you to see, but I don’t.

I want you to see me, but not all.

I want my creativity to come to light, but I want my insanity to stay hidden in the dark.

I’ll show you my creations.

But I won’t give you admission into the circus sideshow where they were formed.

I want you to see me on my good days, not on the bad ones.

I want you to see me when my hair looks good, my eyeliner is smudged just right and I’m exuding confidence and cleverness.

I want to stay hidden when I look all wrong and my eyes are puffy and I can’t separate planet earth from the planets and galaxies in my dreams.

I want you to see me when I’m put together.

I want you to soak up every word when my thoughts are well ordered and prepared.

I want to be ignored when I’m coming unhinged.

I want my words to go unnoticed when they come out in the wrong order and tone.

When my words come out in zig zags and loop de loops instead of straight lines, I want to fade away into the background.

I want to command your attention.

I want to escape your attention.

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 29

Dear July,

So I just finished listening to this podcast about comfort.

The pastor lady was talking about how we crave comfort when things get hard or go wrong.

When we start to get filled with fear, we start to worry and feel anxious and when we feel that worry and anxiety we turn to the relief of comfort.

And while comfort isn’t inherently bad- it keeps us from growth and change and transformation.

Because, you see while we crave comfort, we need courage.

In Matthew 14 Peter sees Jesus walking on the water and goes out to join him.

Peter rejects the comfort of being in the boat and embraces the courage to go towards Jesus.

However, it’s not just peachy for Peter.

Peter starts to sink.

And that is where his courage comes in.

Peter knew who to look to and who to reach towards- and because of his courage and trust he did not drown.

Sure Peter was afraid-

But courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the acceptance of trust.

I don’t know July, I think it’s an interesting thing to think about.

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 28

Dear July,

Sandblast was awesome as usual.

I just have such a love for my house group and small group and I’ll really miss those relationships I’ve formed these past several years.

To be honest with you, July, I’m still very confused about how I feel with my relationship with God.

I’ve got a lot of questions and there’s a lot of things that I don’t understand, and while I didn’t find any answers this weekend, I think I found my desire to seek out those answers.

I’m not really sure what I think about the big man upstairs- but I think now I’m ready to start figuring it out.

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 23


Dear July,

I went to orientation today. That was weird. And also fun. I’m going to be going to school with some really weird people.

I can’t wait.

Love, Nikki Robinson

PS- I’m leaving for Sandblast in 6 hours so you may not hear from me for a few days depending on if I get service there

Letters to July // Day 21

Dear July,

I feel suspended. 

Suspended above my life.

Not really participating, but observing. 

I’m watching it all happen but I’m not doing anything to affect the outcome. 

I’m suspended. 



There are times when I lower enough to where my feet can touch the ground and I can move and dance and interact and take control. 

But then I’m swiftly lifted back up. 

Suspended high above it all. 

Watching the tiny people below me. 

I watch them run and play and laugh and cry. 

I watch them make decisions and choices. 

I watch them light up with passion and take control of their life. 

I watch them and I long to be them. 

But suspended in the sky I’m separated. 

Truth be told I could untie myself from this rope and drop down to earth. 

But I’m afraid of the fall. 

And what if I don’t like it on the ground?

What if I get hurt?

What if I make the wrong choice or run the wrong way or love the wrong person?

What if I get it wrong?

What if I get hurt?

At least up here I’m safe. 

Up here I can keep my distance. 

Up here I’m untouchable. 


What if I don’t get hurt?

What if I make the right choice and run the right way and love the right person?

What if I get it right?

Is it worth the risk?

Is it worth the inevitable hurt for the possible love?

Is it better to stay up here and feel nothing?

Or drop down and feel everything?

Love, Nikki Robinson

PS- Sorry these letters haven’t been very consistent, July. I’ve been a bit under the weather and have fallen asleep a few times before writing to you. 

Letters to July // Day 19

Dear July,

I’m on a bus. 

I’ve been on this bus for a long time. As long as I can remember. 

And there’s a lot of people on this bus. 

Some people are next to me or just across the aisle. Always willing to have a chat. 

Some are a few rows away but they’re always friendly. 

Sometimes people get up and move to a seat closer to me or a seat farther than me. 

And sometimes people get off the bus entirely. 

But I have my constants. 

A few people I’ve been riding this bus with for years and years. 

They’re the people who don’t mind if my head accidentally falls onto their shoulder while I’m asleep or if I accidentally bump them with my baggage. 

I’ve been riding with a good bunch. 

But there’s a stop coming up and the driver says everyone’s getting off- except me. 

Of course I also knew that eventually my people would get off this bus and onto different busses, but this next stop is approaching awfully quickly. 

I can see it. I can see the next stop. 

And there’s three girls waiting there to get on. 

I guess I’m going to be riding with them for awhile. I hope they’re kind. 

So July, I’ll do my best to welcome these strangers into the bus that I’ve shared with so many I love. 

And perhaps one of those old friends will join the new ones some day back on my bus. 

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 17

Dear July,

I just went and saw Inside Out with MaryRose tonight and it was brilliant. Everything about it was so well done and it’s just such an important movie. 

I really liked the part when joy and sadness worked together to control Riley’s brain. I really get that. For example, I’ve been thinking about leaving my friends when I go to college and there’s a lot of sadness in leaving but also a lot of joy in the fact that I have these people in my life who I’ve gotten to make such great connections with to the point where I’ll miss them. 

I guess I find joy in the fact that I’ve been surrounded by people who I’ve loved so much that I’ll be sad when they leave. 

I don’t know, July, but I felt a sort of comfort and validation in this little children’s animated movie. 

Love, Nikki Robinson

Letters to July // Day 16

Dear July,

I think I’m slowly learning the importance of taking care of myself. 

A lot of times I’ll make dumb decisions and not get enough sleep or eat food that tastes great but makes me feel gross, and lately I’ve been realizing how dumb that is. And so I’ve been working on it. I’ve been trying to have a relatively normal sleep schedule and stay hydrated and eat food that at least has a little bit of nutritional value. 

And I think taking care of yourself is just so incredibly important and so overlooked. I don’t know July, but I feel like I should’ve been clued into this. Like I wish someone had told me that it’s okay to say no to going out at night if I really just want to read and go to bed early. And sure I’m still a pretty big mess but at least I’m trying and getting a bit better, right July?

Also in addition to taking care of your physical self, I think I’m starting to learn the importance of taking care of your mental self. Like finding your hobbies and activities you can do just for you. Or finding a time to be alone and collect all your thoughts. Or making sure you surround yourself with good supportive people. For example, tonight I discovered I really like watercolor painting and find it incredibly relaxing. I’ve also discovered this summer that I feel the same way about reading and writing. When I read or write or paint I’m doing it just for me and just for my enjoyment and there’s something really relaxing and rejuvenating about that. 

So yea July. I’m going to keep working on taking care of myself, because I frickin deserve it. 

Love, Nikki Robinson