I found a couple of my old diaries this morning. They were as old as 1996. I thumbed through a few pages and my entries were familiar but were about someone I once knew. Some girl who didn't know who she was or wasn't sure where she'd end up. I was embarrassed to be reading these diaries, even if it was just to myself, about myself. There were moments in my past that I forgot about, while others were ingrained in my memory. I typically wrote in my diary when I was having a bad day, or if I was struggling with love.
I felt like I should have erased the past. I actually started to consider throwing my diaries away.
What did I need to remember? A lot of it was heart breaking moments. Confusing mind games that most people in their early twenties go through.
I was just out of high school, starting college. I was starting a life I was unsure about. I worked. I went to school. I commuted. I lived in dorms. The people that were floating in and out of my life were important to me at that time. When I read these diaries I can see how immature I was and how little I knew about myself.
Why am I saving these diaries? Maybe it will help me in the future. Maybe it will help me remember what it was like to be just out of high school, experiencing the highs and lows of love. I know I'll need the reassurance some day, when my own kid(s) will be entering adulthood. Maybe I won't need these diaries at all?
Reading my old diaries has made me realize how much I've grown, how much I've changed. And I'm still changing now. I guess that's why I hang on to these diaries. In some way, I appreciate these documents from my past. It's a window that I have kept open, even though those doors were closed many years ago. It's important to remember who we were, and what made us who we are today.
It's important to me. As much as I do get embarrassed to read my old diaries, to see how silly my life was back then is important to me. It has made me into the person I am today.