Love Letter 7: Emma

To the person who writes the most epic love letters.

Note: Posted this in my other channel by accident, so thanks for your patience if you’re seeing this for the second time! BONUS for you!?

-

Remember when I promised a love letter every week? No? Perfect. I’ve missed a few. Solo parenting a dog and a five-year-old while starting a new job hasn’t exactly left much room for creative writing. But you know what? It’s fine. I didn’t want it to feel like homework, so I waited. I knew I’d find my way back to you.

And here we are, with a very special love letter for someone who is, quite literally, the best letter writer I know.

If you’re anything like me and my friends, you know the power of a good card. Love notes come in many forms, but one of the simplest and most meaningful ways to show someone you care is to write them a thoughtful note by hand. Texts and emails are lovely and necessary too, but a handwritten card just lands differently. Whether you're lifting someone’s spirits, marking a milestone beyond birthdays and holidays, celebrating a divorce, honoring a loss, or simply letting someone know they’re doing an incredible job—there’s nothing like receiving a note in the mail or by hand to feel truly seen.

I’m not a particularly sentimental person. I don’t keep every birthday card or heartfelt scrap. In fact, I keep very little. Maybe it’s the small-space living, or my constant unease around clutter, or maybe it’s just the truth that so much of what we save ends up forgotten in a box somewhere. But there’s one exception. I’ve kept every single card from Emma.

If you know anything about my business baby, Brood, then you’ve heard Emma’s name. They’re the doula who saved my life. The reason Brood even exists. But beyond being a world-class caregiver and educator, Emma is the best letter writer I’ve ever met. They always joked they couldn’t afford to give gifts, so they wrote cards instead. But those cards have been some of the most meaningful gifts I’ve ever received.

So here’s one for the original love letter revolutionary.

--

Dearest Emma,

To my cosmic twin. My business/life “wife.” My other Gemini half.

I just looked through the stack of cards you’ve written me since we met in 2020. It’s wild to think that our bond began in those surreal early days of the pandemic, when we decided to bubble up so you could provide care. You were the first and only person to meet Sunny for weeks. You held me steady while everything else was coming undone.

That kind of beginning—intense, intimate, and forged under pressure—is rare. Most people don’t get to experience a friendship like that. But we did. And it shaped us. It created something singular and sacred between us.

I’m still in awe of you. Of how wise you are. Of your ability to read a room, to read people, and to care for them so deeply. That kind of presence is rare, and even more powerful coming from someone who didn’t grow up surrounded by care. You’ve created a life centered around offering others what you didn’t always have. That takes strength. And I hope today, you feel some of that love reflected right back to you.

I know how demanding this work is—on your body, your heart, your whole being. And yet, over these past four years, I’ve seen you grow into yourself with such grace. You’ve learned boundaries. You’ve stayed grounded. You walk your talk, holding space for others and holding it for yourself too. That is the real work. And it’s beautiful to witness.

I love how easy it is to feel at home with you. We don’t need grand plans or deep conversations to feel close. Just sitting beside each other, cooking together, wandering through Costco, doing the dishes, grabbing ice cream and chatting on the walk home—that’s the stuff our friendship is built on. That’s where the magic lives.

Thank you for never making me feel like I’m too much. For matching my energy. For being a soft place to land while I explore who I am in the midst of all of life’s chaos and change. For the pep talks. For the trashy TV and the snacks and the gossip. For the flowers, the dinners, the cards, and always, the huge, warm hugs.

I love your fire, even when it’s sparked by frustration, because you don’t hold on to it. You feel it fully, and then you find your way to laughter again. You remind me that joy is always close by, if we know how to look for it.

So here’s a handwritten-ish love letter for the person who taught me just how sacred that act really is. I’m so grateful I get to do life with you—in the big moments and the small ones, through grief and through growth.

I love you, Emma.

Gigi

--

BONUS ROUND:

Here are some of my favourite one-liners from Emma’s letters:

“This momentous week called for another card—more words of wisdom from your lesbian overprocessor!”

“...I’ve been waiting a whole lifetime for your kind of love”

“Through every twist and turn in life, you show up with a depth of love and generosity that leaves me in awe.”

“Thank fuck we met and can take all these experiences and transform them into something really special.”