The Diary That Started It All
A vintage Etsy find took me down memory lane, reminding me why I even write at all.
I was 10. It was a present from an aunt, either for Christmas or my birthday—I can’t remember.
But I had never seen a diary before this in my life, and had no idea what I was supposed to do with it.
It was navy blue and hard cover, and had a really cute picture of Forever Friends on the front. I loved Forever Friends (Is it a Millennial thing now?). At that point in time, they were sort of the cutest things around. Kind of like Kuromi these days.
Up until that moment, I did not know that people wrote their thoughts in books without actually turning it into a “real” book for others to read. Receiving a weekly diary like this unlocked a hidden magic door in my life—a door I didn’t see but had always been there.
You mean I could write whatever I wanted onto these pages, dated so I could remember when I wrote them, and nobody would care? (Remember, I was 10.)
I couldn’t wait to start.
The first things I wrote were little notes, like who I ate with at recess and which boy I was annoyed with at school because he took my bag (probably for all of like, 10 seconds). I filled in a few sentences each day because there wasn’t a lot of space.
After a short period of writing in the diary, I started to add the time to my entries too. Now I would know exactly when I wrote in my diary, and how I was feeling at those exact times!
I must have been a nerd from young.
A Revelation
Soon, I realised that writing my thoughts or what happened during the day helped me make sense of what was happening in my life. It was fun, and it was sometimes exciting. It was nice to be able to replay outdoor excursions or class day trips I had gone on in the form of words.
In the later years, the content developed more layers. By my teens and early twenties, there was also drama, romance, hatred and very deep wishes. I managed to continue writing because, simply, I liked doing it.
Even if no one read my writing then, it always felt like someone cared. Today, I know that that someone was me.
I was writing for me.
What would you do every day if it didn’t have to make you money?
This year, I turn 40. And I am still writing—about different things, and via a very different method. Holy cow, blogs and Google had not even been invented yet when I started at 10.
Today, I still write.
I write online because it’s the best way for my words to reach people who are miles away, and whose hearts can be touched by what they read.
I write in my personal journal to record moments that are important to me because I have a (probably irrational) fear of one day turning senile at 80 and need reminding about my life when I was younger.
I also write to manifest my dream life. I know people who would scoff at this whole manifesting she-bang but I am living proof that it works. Writing down what you wish to see in your life, leaving those notes somewhere, and then finding them one day months or years later with all of them having come true—that’s 100% happened to me.
And if it has happened before, it can and will happen again. And again. And again.
And so, that’s why, with some free time I had a few weeks back, I created my first ever vision board for this year. You can find the post here (or just below), where I also share the free vision board template to everyone.
Go on, ink it.
Even if nobody reads what I write, I would still do it until I can’t write anymore. It’s so cathartic to see something from start to finish, and writing is just my way of grounding and a form of emotional release.
But a part of me knows that whatever I put out will eventually reach those who need to hear it. And that’s why I’m here on Substack.
Even if you do nothing drastic to change your life today, or if you feel like nothing you do works to make your life more content, I suggest journaling. It’s helped me maintain my sanity all these years while growing up in a challenging environment, and I’m very sure it will help you in one way or another too.
Nervous system regulation, they say.
If you’re scared that someone will find what you write, just burn it after writing! Who cares? You got it out on pen and paper, and now it’s released into the wild.
Now? Now you’ll be free to choose again. What will your next step be?
If you’ve found this post useful, please share it, especially to a burnt out mum in need.
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