Journal Excerpt

I will never forget my first journal, a small spiral notebook with a hot pink cover and pages. The word "Barbie" printed on the front. I must have been about seven or eight years old, but how I loved to fill the pages with details about the latest Disney movie I had watched, or the little thoughts I'd have before bedtime. I specifically remember an entry about watching the Little Mermaid II, and recounting all the details as if I were conversating with my little pink journal.

Eventually I ran out of pages, and I was on to the next, a navy hardcover with the Hogwarts crest. Sadly, this is where the magic ended for quite a while. Some of the other school girls caught me writing, and took it from me. They read my most intimate thoughts, and blackmailed me into letting them continue to read any new entries. Embarrassed, I destroyed both journals, and I stopped writing.

It took me about ten years to pick up journaling after that, and it was never with the same consistency. I am sure my fellow writers can relate to the feeling of the pen taking over and moving faster than thought. As if the stories were already written, waiting patiently for a pen to open the portal that would give them life. Sometimes I read old entries in awe and question if it was really me that wrote it. I find a plethora of inspiration, and I mourn those ten years of lost thoughts and ideas.

In 2021 I mustered up the courage to start therapy, and begin my journey of healing and self discovery. I've noticed that some of my journal entries started to change, as if my higher self was trying to speak to me through them. I leave this excerpt, the first time I share my most intimate thoughts since the day my journal was taken. I leave it with the hope that it speaks to other writers, or anyone that is healing, the way it spoke to me.

6/10/2023

I want to write from the depths of my soul. These words that live so deeply within, these words I struggle to articulate with my voice. May they rise and come to life using the pen as the medium, the scepter that casts life.

But what oh what can I write about I do so ask?

Is there anything within that's worth the read?

What must I do for the inspiration to grace my thoughts?

To grace my pen and paper?

Must I live a life worth writing about?

The life I so long for?

What do you long for?

That is the question.

To live fully and deeply. To explore the great beauties of the Earth. To see all the sights. To nourish the soul.

You will get there, and don't say "I hope". You must bring it to fruition. It's nobody's life but yours. Live it for yourself, no longer for anyone else. You have always longed for more. All those adventures, and all the magic written into books. Go find it. Then write it, and keep on writing.

You will never get there if you never start, but be proud of how far you have come. Against all those things working against you, you have fought. Even though you were frozen for the longest time, here you are. Thawing from within. Nobody else could light the fire to keep you warm, so now you are kindling your own. Very few have been able to do that. Stoke the fire, visit the sea, taste the stars on your skin.