In retrospect, I think this diary entry captures a very unique stage of teenage girlhood. In childhood I made ‘memory books’, in late adolescence I kept diaries. For a few years at the beginning of high school, it was a mix of the two. The contrast between the drawings, glitter, candy wrappers and the contraceptive pill pack is representative of this awkward in-between stage. It is at once childlike and too grown up. Adolescent fears about what people think are often dismissed as immature, but sometimes we all need a reminder that everybody doesn’t hate us.
For years, I wondered how he was and hope he didn’t go the route everyone expected.
I reached for my hidden journal and wrote a note to my future self to live. To actually live her life and remember me, her younger self, that is desperately waiting to live a life I am in control of.
A series of events triggered the response to writing, a response so strong I couldn’t possibly ignore it.
This diary entry is for all the woman who feel they are too much. It’s for all the times men have showed up in our lives empty handed and selfish. It’s for all the times our feelings have been disregarded.