Important information
One letter featured in this blog include themes of grief and loss.
Letters are a thing of the past, right? A quaint relic from another era.
Apparently not.
At The National Archives our exhibition, Love Letters (now closed) explored 500 years of people using the written word to express their most intimate feelings. No matter the date of the record, the need to communicate and connect was clear across time and space. These records ranged from 1920s classified adverts to the last letter of Robert Dudley to Queen Elizabeth I and so much more.
In pictures
Expressions of love
Explore a selection of the love letters that went on display for this exhibition.
A visitor viewing a case in the display focusing on sacrifice, featuring documents relating to a pauper and a monarch.
As part of the exhibition, we invited visitors to write their own love letters and were amazed at the response! By the end of this exhibition, more than 2,000 people had written a letter in our exhibition space, leaving their words behind for others to read.
Why did we encourage people to put pen to paper?
We included a place to reflect, inviting visitors to pause and process the records they had seen at the end of the exhibition space. Here, people were encouraged to write back to the letters featured in the exhibition, or simply to write to someone they felt moved to. On the first day alone, dozens of letters were left. This included messages to partners, parents, people they had visited with, people no longer here, future selves and past loves.
The interpretations were endless, and far more creative than we had ever imagined. To our delight more letters kept appearing over the exhibition's run.
The amount of responses surprised us, and we did not expect the depth of feeling people were willing to share with strangers. One of our visitor experience staff described this area as a cocoon, offering a safe space where people had been given rare permission to be emotional.
The Love Letters exhibition space invited visitors to pause, reflect, and write their own letters, surrounded by a paper installation, love letter books and quotes.
What became clear from these letters was that people wanted to write and be heard, listened to and seen.
As such, we would like to include some of them here, with a larger selection of letters also featured in the podcast at the end of this blog post. All visitor letters displayed have been anonymised, and writers have given their consent for us to share them.
I loved that I could write a letter to my dad and that other people can read it too – Keeping his memory alive <3
A Love Letters visitor
The letters
One predictable theme in visitors’ letters was romantic love. What did surprise us, however, was the unique approaches used by writers to express this. Some of the letters spoke of heartbreak or unrequited love, reflecting items on display.
The below is one of the many such letters that was shared, exploring positive moments of love. It highlights the everyday activities that take on extra meaning and the importance of place in our memories.
I look at you in District line trains, staring at trees and stations past & I wonder what would have happened if we never met. Passing Fulham Broadway, it dawns on me that I may never have experienced cigarettes on doorsteps at 2am, running for trains and planes that we never wake up for, or pastries on park benches while the wind sticks to my lip gloss. By the time we get to Earl’s Court, that seems impossibly cruel to even think of. There is not one day that I take the train, and sit in a corner seat, trying to read and always failing, where I am not grateful that you taught me love is gentle. Love is sitting in parks and eating Tesco strawberries while it’s raining around you; not having alarms in the morning so I can feel your arms around me longer; sleeping on your shoulder, on the last train while you keep staring out the window. I don’t love the District line, but I love you for teaching me to love it.
This visitor letter reflects love found in fleeting moments on District line trains and in parks.
Listen
A visitor's letter to love on the District Line
Audio transcript for "A visitor's letter to love on the District Line"
I look at you in District line trains, staring at trees and stations past and I wonder what would have happened if we never met. Passing Fulham Broadway, it dawns on me that I may never have experienced cigarettes on doorsteps at 2am, running for trains and planes that we never wake up for, or pastries on park benches while the wind sticks to my lip gloss. By the time we get to Earl’s Court, that seems impossibly cruel to even think of. There is not one day that I take the train, and sit in a corner seat, trying to read and always failing, where I am not grateful that you taught me love is gentle. Love is sitting in parks and eating Tesco strawberries while it’s raining around you; not having alarms in the morning so I can feel your arms around me longer; sleeping on your shoulder, on the last train while you keep staring out the window. I don’t love the District line, but I love you for teaching me to love it.
The exhibition was very intentional about covering many types of love. This ranged from heartbreak to separation, familial love to friendship, with queer love reflected throughout.
Some letters speak directly to the exhibition themes; others took our wide approach to defining love and applied it to people or places in different ways. This included love letters to life experiences and friendships as shown below.
To my girlhood and the friends who shared it,
Thank you for the beautiful gift of female friendships.
Thank you for complimenting each other’s make up and outfits,
Thank you for doing each other’s eyeliner and sharing eyelash curlers.
Thank you for the comforting hugs and late night giggles, the quiet moments, the sleepovers, the girl trips.
Experiencing this life together has made me who I am and I’ll cherish these moments for my whole life 😊
A creative visitor letter, including a drawing, reflecting on the importance of friendship.
Listen
A visitor's love letter to their girlhood
Audio transcript for "A visitor's love letter to their girlhood"
To my girlhood and the friends who shared it,
Thank you for the beautiful gift of female friendships.
Thank you for complimenting each other’s make up and outfits,
Thank you for doing each other’s eyeliner and sharing eyelash curlers.
Thank you for the comforting hugs and late night giggles, the quiet moments, the sleepovers, the girl trips.
Experiencing this life together has made me who I am and I’ll cherish these moments for my whole life.
Some authors wrote with a partner or family member beside them, referencing this in their letters or composing them as a pair. For others, writing created an opportunity for expressing what feels difficult or impossible to say face to face. The process seemed cathartic for visitors, giving a space for emotional honesty.
Some letter writers wrote to people they could no longer reach. When reading the letters people had left in the exhibition, we noticed that grief was a recurring theme within this.
To my dad,
I often think about the life that we could have had, one where perhaps you stayed to watch me graduate, perhaps one where you watch me get my first job or perhaps one where I spent my evenings cooking for you as you did for me.
Now I can’t quite remember the taste of your dishes – and I’m left with the bitter taste of what once was. I think about these possibilities as I go about my life day to day but I know they will never come true no matter how much I ponder about it.
One scene that often comes back to me is when I tagged along with you shopping – you never quite bought anything for yourself and you were so excited about these shoes – going on and on about how comfortable they were – when in fact they were just normal trainers. You never ended up buying them ‘cause you said they were too expensive. I’d like to think that in another life – one where you stayed long enough to see me get my first job. I would have brought those shoes that you were so excited about.
But I’m left with only the concept of ‘perhaps in another life’. So I hope in another life you stay slightly longer – just enough so that I could cook you a warm meal like you used to do for me.
A heartfelt letter addressed to a departed father, shared by an exhibition participant.
Listen
A visitor's love letter to their Dad
Audio transcript for "A visitor's love letter to their Dad"
To my dad,
I often think about the life that we could have had, one where perhaps you stayed to watch me graduate, perhaps one where you watch me get my first job or perhaps one where I spent my evenings cooking for you as you did for me.
Now I can’t quite remember the taste of your dishes – and I’m left with the bitter taste of what once was. I think about these possibilities as I go about my life day to day but I know they will never come true no matter how much I ponder about it.
One scene that often comes back to me is when I tagged along with you shopping – you never quite bought anything for yourself and you were so excited about these shoes – going on and on about how comfortable they were – when in fact they were just normal trainers. You never ended up buying them ‘cause you said they were too expensive. I’d like to think that in another life – one where you stayed long enough to see me get my first job. I would have brought those shoes that you were so excited about.
But I’m left with only the concept of ‘perhaps in another life’. So I hope in another life you stay slightly longer – just enough so that I could cook you a warm meal like you used to do for me.
Is letter writing a dying art?
This blog showcases a tiny fraction of the many letters left at the archives over the past few months. Together, they reflect the wide range of emotions prompted by the exhibition, from joy, grief, longing, uncertainty, and ultimately love.
For me, it has been powerful to see how archival material can help create an environment where people feel safe and comfortable in sharing deeply personal emotions.
Visitors reflect on stories of longing and distance as they view the 'Separation' display case at the Love Letters exhibition.
This exhibition also revealed something we did not anticipate, an appetite for slower, more intentional and honest communication. The number of letters left by visitors suggests a desire to reconnect with the physical act of writing and our own emotions.
This blog is written in recognition of everyone who took the time to write down their emotions and leave them for others to see. Thank you.
Listen
Listen to our podcast episode, which presents a wider selection of visitor letters.
Audio transcript for "Listen to our podcast episode, which presents a wider selection of visitor letters."
Quote from letter eight: ‘Love, good love, is meant to change people for the better. It warms my heart that your love has strengthened me without me even knowing.’
Vicky Iglikowski-Broad: I’ve just received a mailbag filled with over 1,000 handwritten love letters. I can’t believe it!
Quote from letter two: ‘Experiencing this life together has made me who I am and I’ll cherish these moments for my whole life.’
Vicky: I’m the lead curator of an exhibition at The National Archives in Kew, where I work. My name is Vicky Iglikowski-Broad. Our exhibition looks at 500 years of love letters. From the treasonous expressions of Catherine Howard’s love to declarations about queer friendships that crossed borders, and to the sisterly love of Jane Austen that historians found in legal records.
We put these letters and many more on display in the exhibition, and it seems they’ve really struck a chord. We invited people to write their own love letters – and more than 1,000 people have done just that! My colleagues and I have been reading through them all, and I want to share them with you now.
I’ve asked actors to give voice to a handful of the visitors’ letters. They came in English, but also French, Spanish, Arabic, Chinese, Russian, and many more languages.
I guess sometimes it’s easier to say ‘I love you’ in your mother tongue, isn’t it?
Each letter writer consented to their words being shared. To respect their privacy, names - and occasionally other identifying details - have been anonymised. We often know very little about the writers – I think of their letters as just glimpses into who they might be. Some letters are filled with joy, others with heartbreak or humour; many are sad. All are deeply human. So, we should listen to these letters with care.
Let’s start with a reminder that love is all around us…
Letter author one: I look at you in District line trains, staring at trees and stations past and I wonder what would have happened if we never met.
Passing Fulham Broadway, it dawns on me that I may never have experienced cigarettes on doorsteps at 2am, running for trains and planes that we never wake up for, or pastries on park benches while the wind sticks to my lip gloss. By the time we get to Earl’s Court, that seems impossibly cruel to even think of. There is not one day that I take the train, and sit in a corner seat, trying to read and always failing, where I am not grateful that you taught me, love is gentle. Love is sitting in parks and eating Tesco strawberries while it’s raining around you; not having alarms in the morning so I can feel your arms around me longer; sleeping on your shoulder, on the last train while you keep staring out the window. I don’t love the District line, but I love you for teaching me to love it.
Vicky: When I worked with colleagues here to curate the exhibition, we felt it was important to include the love of friendship. All too often friendship can feel taken for granted or secondary to romantic love, so in the exhibition it was presented equally alongside all other love. We noticed that groups of friends visited together, often finding out about it through TikTok, and then bonding through their journey around the exhibits…
Letter writer two: To my girlhood and the friends who shared it,
Thank you for the beautiful gift of female friendships.
Thank you for complimenting each other’s make up and outfits,
Thank you for doing each other’s eyeliner and sharing eyelash curlers.
Thank you for the comforting hugs and late night giggles, the quiet moments, the sleepovers, the girl trips.
Experiencing this life together has made me who I am and I’ll cherish these moments for my whole life
Vicky: This letter ended with a drawing of six women outside in the sun enjoying themselves.
In fact, many letters had creative elements, drawings or poems to help illustrate the writers’ feelings.
I was surprised that some people wrote to places, from an old flat filled with memories or to the city that had offered them freedom.
Others, even wrote to old teachers…
Letter writer three: To Ms. P,
All I can say is that you were an extraordinary teacher. When I first moved to London and couldn’t speak any English, your lessons were still my favourite, and I think that’s what truly made me learn the language faster.
I’ll always be grateful for everything you did for me. I still keep the printed lesson slides you made, with the Russian translation at the bottom. I remembering feeling a little embarrassed when the translations would show up during lessons, because I felt judged by the rest of the class, but at the same time I’d find it so endearing and appreciate it so much that you’d go out of your way to do that for me, even though the translations weren’t always correct ah-ha. I always admired you in every possible way, I hope you know that.
Vicky: Teachers often touch our lives in ways they can’t know, don’t they?
The exhibition ran across several key dates, including LGBTQ+ History Month, International Women’s Day, Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day.
The letters that came in around Valentine’s Day were, unsurprisingly, dominated by romantic love and partnership. Mother’s Day, meanwhile, saw letters exchanged between children and their mothers…
Letter writer four: To Mum,
I want to say sorry for perhaps never treating you as well as I could. I think sometimes that I take you for granted and don’t appreciate all you’ve done and sacrificed for me to be me. I love the memories we’ve made now I’m grown and I’m thankful every day that we’ve learned how to communicate. You had me when you were a child, you gave so much with little other help. You’re an inspiration and I wish I’d said it more. So, I’ll tell you when you next call me at 7am on your drive to work.
C.
Vicky: The biggest section of the exhibition, focused on family love – something we didn’t expect when we started curating. But in the archives, and love letters written in response, the love inside families was clear, in all its care and complexity…
Letter writer five: Dear family,
It has been several months since I left home to study abroad. Despite this not being the first time I have been away, I feel a sense of grief being away that I have never experienced prior. Being away has given me time to reflect on the current nature of our relationship and my fears surrounding how it will evolve with time. As we both grow older, I feel a new chapter coming upon us. When the day arrives that I tell you I am queer. I wish for nothing more than a smile and dinner as usual. I can’t wait to see you all soon.
With love
Vicky: Love hits us in positive and negative ways. Visitors often shared their feelings of heartbreak or unreciprocated love….
Letter writer six:
Dear [Redacted],
I do not wish to admit my fondness for you; I find it quite vexing in all honesty. However, I must be honest and say I have embarrassingly fallen for you.
You could not comprehend how my heart yearns for you during the most mundane of moments.
It feels like an illness; at night I think of you, and when I wake, you’re on my mind. I simply do not know how to cure this affliction, and I have started to enjoy the ‘suffering’.
You have captivated not only my heart, but my mind and will. I have to thank you for keeping me inspired and passionate.
One day I’m sure I will confess this insanity.
Faithfully yours
L
Vicky: Visitors’ reactions to the LGBTQ+ representation in the exhibition have really touched me. One couple wrote, ‘We were very moved. We saw ourselves in centuries old love letters.’ To make people feel represented and affirmed is why I do my job. The archive loudly shows LGBTQ+ people have always existed, despite the change in language over time.
Letter writer seven: To the woman of my life,
It’s been officially raining in the UK for more than 30 days, which has felt as gloomy as it sounds, even more considering we were born under the Mediterranean sun. However, the reminder of us being Flowers of May fills me with great fondness as shades of red, I’ve only ever found in your blushed/sun kissed cheeks wait for me in the streets of Barcelona.
My rusty English combined with Catalan and Spanish will never allow me to truly express through words how my heart behaves when I get even a glimpse of you, it is completely restless since the first time you held my hand, and out of everything I prepared myself for, you were the most unexpected. A priest will not be able to marry us, but I like to think God sent you as one of his biggest acts of love towards us.
Loves you and t’estime, your beloved
Vicky: Letter writers also reflected on separation – something similarly clear in the exhibition, due to global travel, trade and displacement. And yet so much has changed in the ways we communicate, from big sacks of post travelling slowly around the globe, to our ability to instantly connect…
Letter writer eight: My sweet man,
My friend told me a few weeks ago that I have started to speak about myself with confidence, as though I am more than a supporting character in other people’s lives. Love, good love, is meant to change people for the better. It warms my heart that your love has strengthened me without me even knowing.
It is strange to have a piece of my heart an ocean away. Stranger still to adore someone I have never touched. It’s a miracle we are both alive in the modern era, where our words and souls can reach across vast continents to touch. My life would be duller without you in it.
I am excited to have you. I hope we remain in each other’s lives until the end. Even though my grave will be in New York, and yours in Chile, I hope our affections can stretch across the distance, as it does now. I love you. I cannot wait to meet you.
Yours
Vicky: Some letters were deeply emotional, others playful. Many reflected personality and humour, expressions of unique love, character… and shared in-jokes.
Letter writer nine: My dearest, most beloved and ethereal girlfriend,
I fear that love is just a stinky cheese for I grow fat and slovenly as I eat more of it. I smell you, like a block of Brie or slice of Emmental, and leap across tables to meet you.
With our love that continues I find myself forgetting time for every moment pauses whilst deliberating on the next slice of delicious diary to devour on a cheeseboard.
As I spend more time with you my legs seize and I cannot seem to walk away from either you or your bed. I fear this could be chronic gout because that’s what happens when he has too much blue cheese. And also, seafood.
I guess love is also like a seafood then? If I have too much of you, I feel pained at your loss, just like that tummy ache I got when I had those dodgy oysters in France when I was a teenager. It was devastating for me and anyone in earshot of me.
I can’t get enough of you – like big stinky cheeses.
Love your boyfriend who likes cheese and too much seafood.
Vicky: The last section of the exhibition was legacy. One visitor wrote about the love that lives on, long after we’ve lost a furry friend…
Letter writer ten: For the love of our four-legged friends, from your silly human.
My Dear Little Bugsy Boo,
I love you and I miss you. You are my heart and my soul and not a day goes past, when I do not think of you. I remember with great joy the first day I picked you up, and we drove here with you in your little cardboard box on the seat. And I hate to recollect our final moment together, nose to nose, hands around you softly crying your name (which I often still do in my sleep). You were a very special pup, gentle, kind, soulful, but most of all joyful and silly, and how many special moments did we have together, walking in the forest, chasing sticks and balls, watching tv (well me) (and you snoozing next to me). Each yoga session at home when you would lay down next to me. I feel you came into my life when I most needed it, having been through the life I have, you taught me the meaning of sweetness, joy, loyalty and unconditional love (through the eyes of a dog). I often write to you, and I hope you are happy and silly wherever you are, and I look forward to seeing you in the next life.
(but not too soon, I still have so much to do here). With all my love, I love you, Bugsy
Vicky: Grief is a striking, recurring theme in the letters, with visitors writing to someone they never got to say final words to or someone they’d love to see again. The loss of grandparents, partners, parents, children and even the unborn, is heavy in some of these letters.
Letter writer 11: To my dad,
I often think about the life that we could have had, one where perhaps you stayed to watch me graduate, perhaps one where you watch me get my first job or perhaps one where I spent my evenings cooking for you as you did for me.
Now I can’t quite remember the taste of your dishes – and I’m left with the bitter taste of what once was. I think about these possibilities as I go about my life day to day, but I know they will never come true no matter how much I ponder about it.
One scene that often comes back to me is when I tagged along with you shopping – you never quite bought anything for yourself, and you were so excited about these shoes – going on and on about how comfortable they were – when in fact they were just normal trainers. You never ended up buying them ‘cause you said they were too expensive. I’d like to think that in another life – one where you stayed long enough to see me get my first job. I would have brought those shoes that you were so excited about.
But I’m left with only the concept of ‘perhaps in another life’. So, I hope in another life you stay slightly longer – just enough so that I could cook you a warm meal like you used to do for me.
Vicky: I didn’t expect to read letters about self-love. This was not explicitly represented in the exhibition. It feels like a newer concept that reflects the times we live in now. But visitors wrote to their past selves, future selves, or to themselves in the present. They spoke powerfully of pride, self-discovery, and acceptance.
Letter writer 12: I write this letter to myself. With 20 years of not loving who I am. I am now the most selfish I’ve ever been…and with that, I have been able to give the most to those I hold dearest. I am present. I am grounded. I am powerful. I am the High Priestess and strength. The Queen of Words with her fire spirit. I couldn’t be this unbelievable person today without the love of my mother, sister and friends, but ultimately, myself. Learn to love yourself. I love my childlike humour; I love my extreme moods. I love my passion. I love that I noticed smile lines around my eyes for the first time and it gave me joy. A mark of age and wisdom. It’s a wonderful world. I love myself…finally.
Love B.
Vicky: Now you’ve heard this selection of letters, how does it make you feel about ‘love’? What would you want to write?
I want to recognise and thank everyone who took the time to write down their emotions and leave them for others to see. These letters are a testament to the power of archives to move people. I am proud this exhibition placed visitors in a mindset where they felt able to share their own voices alongside centuries-old expressions of love.
The world can be overwhelming. Sitting down with a pencil and paper, in the calm of an exhibition, can feel like a break, an act of mindfulness.
Reading about love and finding a sense of hope, community and connection, enough to write down your feelings about love, is a beautiful act of sharing.
As one visitor wrote, it ‘makes me excited to fall in love again’.
This was produced by Aunt Nell, with letter audio recordings by Smartify.
Although the exhibition has closed you can still access the audio tour, document images and transcriptions on the Smartify app and website.
