I've been reading through some of my old journals. I threw most of them out last year so I only have the ones I missed. 15 year old me makes me laugh! And yet some things haven't changed at all. For instance, I still write bad poetry that doesn't make much sense. They are filled with pages and pages of introspection and intense emotion.
I grew up in a male dominated house and my mother wasn't what you'd call 'communicative'. Feelings weren't legitimised or encouraged to be discussed and so it wasn't until my twenties that I realised that it was okay to feel and that feelings were an important and legitimate part of the human experience. As I've been looking through my journals I can see that they provided a safe place to express those emotions and not be mocked.
