I have been journaling since I was 5 years old, although back then we called it keeping a diary [that was 33 years ago]. I had my Holly Hobbie diary with the gilt-edged pages and lock and key. I wrote about what I had for dinner and what I did that day and locked it up and hid it so my brother wouldn’t read it. This was secret stuff!
I kept diaries until high school when it progressed to being called journaling, and I filled simple composition books with my teen angst. I soon found that there was a world of beautiful journals just waiting for my words, and I filled them almost as quickly as I could buy them.
What started at such a young age as just a simple itch to put pen to paper slowly grew into a process that soothes my soul. I write about anything and everything wherever and whenever the mood strikes. Anything on my mind at the time I sit down to write is fair game for my journal. It keeps all my secrets.
Could I survive without my journals? Sure.
Would I want to? Probably not.
This is my story. Tell me yours.