I recently read an old diary of mine from when I was fourteen-ish. I had tried to make it fun in the beginning in the way I’d thought diaries were supposed to be, like YA contemporary novels and 90s teen flicks. But I gave up about halfway through. I started writing the stuff I really needed to get out, and my entries became more accurate with what I remember.
I nearly forgot how bad things were. My home life was a nightmare and my school life wasn’t good either. My entries were a reminder of why I gave up Calgary for three years. I got through it with two people and my writing.
There was some positive takeaways from my old diary, too. I used to write down the wishes I was too afraid to hope for out loud. Things that were impossible and could only ever exist in my wildest dreams.
- I wanted a dog.
- I wanted my parents to get a divorce.
- I wanted to write books.
- I wanted to make movies.
- I wanted to go to university in England.
- I wanted to move to Los Angeles.
Now we have Foxy who makes us laugh every day with her shenanigans. The divorce is scheduled to be finalized by the end of this month after three messy years. I’m writing books. I’m writing scripts, acting in things, and editing stuff. Two days ago my Creative Writing degree from Winchester, England, arrived in the mail. Lastly, I am perfectly happy and very proud to live in Canada.
It took years of hard work, and I wouldn’t have even noticed the change if not for having written my thoughts all those years ago and reading them again recently. I’m happy to say things have gotten a lot better for me. And things will keep getting better, because I’m not done yet.
I still have so much to offer the world.