I started writing a diary when I was very young- at the age of 12. I would write whatever I felt like in it, my thoughts, feelings, fun outings with friends or family, my deepest secrets. Sometimes, I would write about how I had felt unfairly treated by a teacher or a family member. I was a very shy girl in my childhood and was not very open to talking about my feelings to anyone. To some extent, I would share them with my mother, but no one else. So my diary was my best friend and confidant.
When I reached the stage of crushes, love and heartbreak, it would contain those secrets within itself and would soothe my hurt feelings with its company. Sometimes, it would be the cause of serious arguments with my mother. Since, I was not very open to talking about everything to her, she would get worried and she knew I wrote everything in my diary. So, sometimes she would try to sneak a look at my diary and I would catch her at it which would lead to horrible fights with me screaming about breach of privacy. She was not a spying mother, I was a very shy kid and would not share things with her though she always acted like a best friend and never judged me. But I still felt like keeping some things private.
Today, I no longer write a diary. i have become much open more about my feelings and views. I share whatever is going in my heart with some very close friends and my mother and know they won’t judge me. The closest thing that comes to a diary now is my blog.
Whenever I want to remember those innocent days of childhood, I go back and read my diary and those memories bring a happy smile to my face. If we ever write a story about our life, I believe that the diary we maintained through our growing up years would be the best source to turn to.