I think I want to start something, although I am more than hesitant. This journey will probably be profoundly humiliating, deeply personal, and utterly cringing for not only myself, but probably family members and friends.

On my ninth birthday I received a diary as a gift. I don’t remember who gave it to me, but whoever did should know this present stirred my creative juices and sparked what is known today as my writing ability. I say this in jest. I don’t claim to be some fantastically creative writer. I don’t have a crazy imagination, nor do I think most of my writings are interesting. Suffice it to say, this diary holds my first entries, and thus, my introduction to a world that I believe I have, at the very least, gotten to know better than I did 19 years ago (at least, god, I hope so).

As humiliating as I’m certain this will be, I think I’m going to share these writings with the online world. Stupid, some might say. My thought is, if nothing else, it will be enjoyable for my friends to laugh at, educational for parents to (possibly) understand what their young daughters are going through, and insightful for people to understand why I am who I am today.