Tracy's blog

I’m Tracy Au and I have graduated from the Professional Writing program from university. I am an aspiring screenwriter, so this blog is used to promote my writing and attract people who will hire me to write for your TV show or movie. I write a lot about writing, TV, movies, jokes, and my daily life and opinions. I have another blog promoting my TV project at

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Post Secret

Feb. 7 Post Secret:  A picture of a piece of paper in a Post Secret book:

Hi Frank,

I couldn’t send it, but I need to let it go.  I hope someone finds it.

(There were longitude and latitude degrees written.)

Dear Frank

Thank you for posting the email of the person’s reaction to finding the note I wrote.  I wrote that note while living away from friends and family in another state as a new stay-at-home mom and wife.  I was lonely and feeling neglected.  I wrote the note for myself as much as for postsecret readers.

Now I am divorced, a single-mom, and a teacher.  It is powerful to see that my small gesture of care during a challenging time in my life could be so positive for a stranger.  It renewed my dedication to caring for my students daily, and made me grateful for that phase in my life which caused me to write the note.  All experience is meaningful if you allow it to be.

Best wishes.

Note in a Post Secret: Whatever you are going through, there is someone out there feeling exactly like you are right now.  You are not alone.  There is hope.

Hi Frank,

I hope this email finds you well.

Of all the “scandalous” secrets I had been dying to share with the world, you published my most shameful one yet in your new book. I had a day to myself and was planning on spending it at a bookstore with a latte, combing the pages of your new book, like I always do when a new one is published. However, this time was a little different. Carefully looking through each secret, smirking at some, eyes-widening at others, I let out a loud, albeit dramatic, gasp when I spied my own. I stared down at the page, in shock, trying to convince myself that maybe it wasn’t my hand writing. I hardly even remembered sending it. But I knew.

In November of 2012, the guy I had been dating for 4 years asked me to marry him. I was a mess of a person at this time. I didn’t know what or who I wanted (there was, and had always been, “someone else,”), what I wanted to do with my life, etc, but it was the next logical step and we were on a cruise ship. If I had said no, there was no where to go for a whole week. Besides, this guy was great and I did love him, I just didn’t know if he was *THE ONE*. So, I sorta thought, “oh, what the hell.” How romantic! I shudder now even just telling you honestly about my thought pattern as it happened. Flash forward to six months later and we are full-blown wedding planning…and I was full-blown panicking. Not to pat myself on the back, but I knew he didn’t have a single doubt in the world about me, and I love him for that, but it made it hard on me because I had TONS! Not about HIM, but the idea of him. The whole one-penis-forever thing, closing the door on past loves, closing the door on future loves! The idea of what if there is someone even better for me. That’s what caused me to send in my secret, the one you recently, and finally published, that said: (on a post card from the Bahamas) We were on our way here when he asked me to marry him. I gave him the wrong answer.”

We have been married now for seven months. And while it’s certainly not easy, I can now honestly tell you that “yes” WAS the right answer. I can sometimes be a self-destructive, selfish, and like I said before, secretive person. But Frank, if I make nothing but bad choices for the rest of my life, I will die knowing I made a great one when I agreed to marry my husband. He is thoughtful and sweet and caring and everything I always thought I never deserved. I am still struggling with that, especially knowing that I told the world, via my secret, that i didn’t want to marry him. But I did it anyway, and I’m so glad. I know I have a lot to learn, and a lot to make up for, but I wanted to set the record straight. After many attempts at trying to share my secrets with the world, and perhaps (almost desperately) with the people they were about, you published the most important; the one I needed you to. Although I did spend a few hours quite angry with you, (“of all the ones I’ve sent, THAT’S the one you publish!?!?!?” came up a lot), I actually want to thank you for that. Because it forced me to take a deeper look; to realize that my secret was WRONG. That I was wrong. And i’m so grateful that that is my truth.

I don’t know that I will ever tell my husband or show him the book with my secret it in. I bought it, and the book is hidden in our apartment until I can decide what to do with it. Before I left the bookstore that day, I was in a shocked daze but I knew I had to do something. I happened to have stationary in my bag with me, so I took out a sharpie and began to write…

“Sometimes I feel like I know exactly who I am, who I want to be, where I’m going and what I want. Other times, I have no fucking idea. And you know what? That’s OK.”

I tucked it away in the book I was holding, put it back on the shelf for someone else to find, and grabbed another copy to take with me to the register. I can only hope that someone else will learn my lesson, a lesson you helped guide me through, and that they’ll come out on the other side.

Thank you for what you do.

Lots of love and light,

Feb. 15 Scars:

A picture of a young guy without his eyes in the photo: “My dad stabbed me when I was 19.  I can never take my shirt off because I’m so unbelievably self-conscious of that scar.”

“I purposely touch your scars so you know how okay I am with them.”

A picture of a young woman’s stomach: “Never will I let myself or another person make me feel like the scars that SAVED my life are ugly.”
A picture of a baby: “Scars are cool.  One day he and I will sit down and make up an awesome story about where his came from.”

A picture of tattoos: one of a open cage and three birds flying: “Those scars do not define me.  I’m free.”

“The nail salon attendants have been talking s--- in Spanish about us for the last half hour.  I plan on switching to Spanish when it’s time to tip them so they understand why I don’t.”
My opinion: I hope people learn to be more polite.  Don’t go assuming that someone doesn’t know what you’re saying.  There was a meeting at my work, and the manager says that we can only speak English.  There are lots of Filipino people in my work and they speak their own language.

I found this on Post Secret on Dec. 20, 2014:
“2 yrs ago, my Christmas wish is for us to be together forever.
Last year, my Christmas wish is for you to remember how you once loved me.
This year, my Christmas wish is for me to forget you.”
Feb. 22. 2014:
“To my biological mother that I have never met…
I am happy, healthy, and living a great life! 
I respect and am grateful for the difficult decision you’ve made.
I pray you have no regrets.
I am loved!”

Mar. 29, 2015:

"If the psychic didn't tell me to leave my husband, I would have stayed.  I haven't been this happy in 8 years."


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