Writing has always been my therapy. From as far back as I can remember, I would write...letters to friends, songs, poems, diaries....I remember writing a poem when I was 11 years old, and my Dad was adamant that I'd copied it from somewhere. When I read it back now I can understand why - I don't know where those words, ideas and thoughts came from. I'm not sure I even understood the meaning behind what I had written - the topic seems far too dark and complex for an 11 year old (living a very sheltered life) to have any semblance of knowledge of...and yet I remember writing it...lying on the wooden floor in my sister's bedroom, in between the bed and window with the light shining through....stopping every now and then to continue to draw a picture ... (of a male model from a 'little black book' of men that had been acquired as a joke present from a gift shop on our seaside holiday...laughing at this now!)
The thing with writing though is that you need space for your thoughts and time for your penmanship. Its why the best blog posts come into your mind as you drop off to sleep, or are in the middle of a shower....not when you are rocking a baby bouncer with one foot whilst simultaneously cooking dinner and trying to dodge the Lego bricks on the floor.
The great thing about blogging is that you choose what to put out there. You decide what is available for others to read and you decide what to keep back. Lots of people assume that as a blogger you detail every little bit of your life, but that's not true at all. There's lots that I don't say, and most I never will.
Like the diary you perhaps kept as a teenager...you write it with the hope that no one else will ever read it...except that's the thing with diaries! Someone always tries to. I remember the day I stopped writing my diary. I was 14 years old. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away, or burn it, or whatever else you are supposed to do to ensure that your thoughts remain private....so I posted it to my friend....a big envelope full of my private thoughts...and I sent it along to her for safe keeping, absolutely confident in the knowledge that she was 100% trustworthy with this little piece of my mind...and you know what, to this very day she is still that person. The one I would send my diary to.
I met her when I was 11 too...perhaps I knew a lot more back then than I gave myself credit for...
Sarah x
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