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I Destroyed All My Journals

Not everything needs to be remembered or kept in our archive of keepsakes. Honestly, there are some memories I would prefer to forget.

For several years, I’ve kept journals. Some that even dated back to when I was seventeen and weathering the ups and downs that come with being a young woman and an emotionally immature teenager who got upset about things like my crushes showing zero interest in me, a bad grade on a test, not fitting in with different peers I wanted acceptance from, highs and lows with friends, working my first few jobs, and my parents making me pay my own cell phone bill -- mind you, this was before smartphones and pricey data plans were a “thing.” I had a Motorola Razr flip phone that probably cost no more than $30 a month to pay. I also had a part-time job making good money, so there’s that. No wonder older generations think some of us millennials are entitled. Moving on…

As a writer, journaling was once a big thing for me. It was a commitment that allowed me the privacy and space to share my most intimate, private, and personal thoughts with no fear, worry, or consequences, however, this past holiday break, I felt it was time to part ways with journaling, including the stack of journals I kept for years. Here’s why.  

Holding on to detailed accounts of my unfiltered feelings, fears, insecurities, worries, challenges, explorations, and thoughts about everything else felt like a weight. Periodically, I’d go back and read about different things I was thinking and going through, and then I’d reflect on how much some things have changed and/or remained the same. I didn’t see the need to keep or continue revisiting stories from my past. The past happened, it’s done, and I’m fine with putting it behind me. Now that I’m older, I want to look forward and move on. I don’t care to revisit or hold on to a stored collection of old wounds, traumas, heartbreaks, mistakes, setbacks, or anything else that I put into writing that I didn’t feel comfortable speaking openly about. Also, I’d never want anyone else to see or have access to my former journaled thoughts. I don’t mind being transparent as a writer, as I believe transparency is important, however, in this day and time where a lot of people are open books, I’m just not there. There are parts of each and every one of our lives that should not be available for public consumption. I applaud those who are bold and brave enough to be super open though. However, everyone doesn’t need to know everything about you. 

I felt relieved parting ways with my journals before this year came in. I watched as each page ceased to exist and I didn't look back. My journals served their purpose, helped me heal and allowed me to be who I am without judgment or shame.

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