Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Dear Diary

I was cleaning out a drawer this afternoon, and I found a diary that I wrote in during the early 90s. I can't believe how immature and silly I sound in this book. So much drama! The last time I wrote in this little book was 2003, but the postings were very sporadic after 1995. I'm not very consistent with stuff like that. I guess life gets in the way of keeping a regular diary.

Writing down secret thoughts and feelings can be cathartic, but it can also be a little embarrassing. I would hate for anyone (especially Ken) to read what I wrote back then. I even felt uncomfortable reading it just now. It was like I was reading someone else's diary because it sure didn't sound like me on those pages. I still feel a little bit weird and out of sorts.

What about blogging? Blogging isn't anything like keeping a diary. With blogging, you know someone might read your stuff, so that puts some restraint on what gets posted. Diaries are meant to be completely private. Anything goes! Do they even make those diaries with the cheap locks anymore?

I'm a different person now than I was back in 1992-1994 (when I kept most of that diary). I always tell myself that I haven't changed much over the years (personality wise), but that's obviously not true. I think I'm a more confident person now, but maybe I have just traded those old insecurities for new ones.

That diary has given me some food for thought. Who am I? How much do I really change as the years go by? I am in a contemplative mood as I think about my 47th birthday tomorrow. I hope I am a mature, secure, and confident woman these days because I wouldn't use these adjectives to describe myself back then.

Life can be strange and lovely and filled with events and moments that keep us always moving forward.

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