For the final 30 days of my twenties, I am writing one personal narrative a day that has impacted my life until now. To read more about my challenge, feel free to check out the first post.
Also, this 30 Day challenge is also to support a wonderful charity, Zara Aina. Please check out my fundraiser here and if you’re able, please consider throwing a few dollars toward this amazing cause. It would mean the world!
During the six weeks leading up to our move from Plainfield, I kept a countdown both on my bedroom calendar and in my butterfly-adorned diary. Even back then I was a passionate journaler, but I held back in what I wrote. A few years earlier, my older sister ripped all the pages out of my diary and posted them on the refrigerator to get me in trouble (I said some not-so-nice things about my mother). Years later, when I started blogging, I though of it as a form of “posting my own diary on the refrigerator,” but this time about the thoughts I chose to share–and not ones about lamenting the daily life of a 5th grader. It’s the harder stories, the ones that I fear will somehow come back to get me, that I hesitate before writing. And yet, if this birthday challenge has taught me one thing, it’s that these are just stories. They are not my current reality. Still, our pasts can drive our decisions and mold our views of the world in ways we don’t even recognize. When I finally started seeing a therapist in college, it was like wearing glasses for the first time.
My issue now is that I don’t have the words to tell these stories, to really do them justice. So where do you start?