Letter writing has been a meaningful part of my life, shaping my relationships in unexpected ways. Like many, I was first introduced to it in school, where we were taught the mechanics of crafting a letter as a form of communication. While the habit faded over time, it laid the foundation for something I would later embrace wholeheartedly.
My love for letter writing was rekindled in college when a friend and I began exchanging postcards from our travels. What started as a simple way to stay in touch turned into something more—a passion for connecting through letters. Over time, I found myself forming penpal relationships across the globe. At first, these exchanges may have seemed casual, but as the letters continued, they deepened, fostering genuine and authentic bonds.
There’s something about pulling a letter from its envelope, the anticipation in what words will be held on the page. In many ways, I think it matters less what’s actually written—the act of writing the letter, of receiving it in the mail is enough.
One of my most cherished friendships is with Laura, a penpal from the Netherlands. Our connection began through letters and eventually grew into daily text conversations. But even with the ease of digital communication, our handwritten letters hold a depth that texting can’t replicate. Writing and receiving letters allows us to explore our thoughts and emotions in a way that feels more reflective, more intentional—something that transcends physical distance (particularly about rogue coworkers or clients/patients).
I also have friendships that exist almost entirely through letters. While we may follow each other on Instagram, our primary form of communication is through the mail. There’s a freedom in it—no need to filter words, no second-guessing if something might be screenshotted or misinterpreted online. It’s raw, unpolished, and deeply personal in a way that feels increasingly rare.
Social media has changed the way we value (or devalue) handwritten letters. Online, everything is curated. If I go to a restaurant and want to take a picture, I don’t just snap one and move on. I spend time rearranging the table—placing the plates and wine glasses just right, making sure the shot looks perfect. I take 15 or 20 pictures, choosing the best one later.
Letter writing is the opposite. There’s no pre-planning, no endless retakes. When I write a letter, it just comes out the way it comes out. I start by replying to their letter, then move into updates about my life, my thoughts, my ideas. It’s spontaneous and honest. There’s no backspace, no delete button—just my thoughts, captured as they come.
There’s also something special about the physical act of writing a letter. It requires time and effort, making it a tangible demonstration of care. Writing about emotional topics by hand can be harder than typing, but it also offers a therapeutic outlet for reflection and growth. In many ways, letter writing has become a substitute for journaling in my life. Instead of keeping my thoughts locked away in a notebook no one might ever read, I share them with others. My letters become more than personal reflections—they are a way of documenting my life while strengthening relationships.
I remember sending a letter to a very good friend in Toronto when he was going through a difficult time. He later called me, emotional and deeply grateful. That moment solidified for me just how powerful a letter can be.
Despite the world being more digital than ever, I believe letter writing has the potential for a resurgence. We saw a massive rise in bread-making during COVID—something that was once considered too time-consuming or impractical suddenly became mainstream. Letter writing could follow the same path. But for it to truly make a comeback, there would need to be a push from postal services and letter-writing organizations to help popularize it. Movements like Month of Letters (LetterMo) and InCoWriMo exist, but they remain relatively unknown.
Letter writing forces us to slow down. It demands presence, requiring us to put distractions away and focus entirely on the act of writing. It’s a form of communication that feels deliberate, unfiltered, and deeply personal.
For me, letter writing will always be a part of my life. It’s a way to connect more deeply with others, to express thoughts without filters, and to create something tangible and lasting. And perhaps that’s the most valuable part of all—letters endure. Unlike a fleeting text or a disappearing Instagram story, a letter is something you can hold, tuck away, and return to years later, rediscovering the emotions woven into its pages.
Happy adventuring,
Ahmed
PS: You can read the original, unedited, handwritten version of this newsletter on the LetterMo.com blog!
Earl Grey Ice Cream
Ingredients
300 g whole milk
15 g Earl Grey tea (loose leaf)
90 g egg yolks
75 g sugar
15 g milk powder
20 g glucose powder (or light corn syrup)
2 g ice cream stabiliser (ignore if you don’t have any)
70 g liquid full-fat cream
Method
In a saucepot, heat the milk with the tea leaves. Allow this to infuse for at least 15 minutes. Strain and weigh the infused milk. The infused milk should be 250 g, if it is not 250 g, add more milk. Return the infused milk to the saucepot and heat.
In a bowl, mix together the egg yolks, sugar, milk powder, glucose powder (if using corn syrup, add this directly to the infused milk), and ice cream stabiliser. Mix vigorously.
Once the infused milk comes to a soft boil, pour half of it over the egg yolk mixture and mix vigorously. Pour this back into the saucepot over low heat.
Using a whisk or rubber spatula, continue mixing the ice cream base over low heat, scraping against the bottom and sides of the pot. Once this thickens to a consistency of a sauce (crème anglaise), strain it all into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap that is in direct contact with the sauce to prevent a skin from forming. Place this in the fridge for at least 12 hours to cool and mature.
Note: If you do not know what the correct consistency of a sauce is, using the back of a spoon, dip the spoon into the pot and pull away. You’ll pull your finger along the back of the spoon so that the trace your finger leaves behind is parallel to the bottom of the spoon. If the sauce falls over the trace left behind by your finger, then it needs to be cooked more. The sauce should still be liquid, but hold itself from dropping into the trace.After cooling and maturing, place the ice cream base into an ice cream churner according to the manufacturer’s instructions and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions. If you are using a Ninja Creami or Paco-Jet, freeze the base in the manufacturer’s containers for 24 hours before spinning according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
I love letter writing for this reason. Agreed, pen to paper is always better.