In this life is anything ever truly private, like in a diary or journal? Probably not.
I think of the book “Go Ask Alice.” I guarantee that when she wrote out what she did that she didn’t expect that once she died it would be turned into a world-famous book. Or Anne Frank or any other books that came from a diary.
While we would love to have our privacy, the reality is no one really has any. Maybe were not supposed to.
Since I was around ten, I got my first diary from Grandma Patton one year for Christmas. She sent it to me along with a pen. I wrote about all the troubling things that go on with a ten-year-old that were quite dramatic at that age. My hope is that my mom, my brother and my sister would have respected my privacy enough to not read it but that probably didn’t happen. Maybe not by my mom but I have no doubt that my brother and sister did. I’m sure I would have been devastated back then but I look back and think how it wasn’t any big deal.
In a way, my writing on this website has become, in a way, my journal. I’m able to share my feelings through my writing. Only as I do it I know others will read it. My sincerest hope is that somehow people can relate to it.
