“Your journal will stand as a chronicle of your growth, your hopes, your fears, your dreams, your ambitions, your sorrows, your serendipities.”

-Kathleen Adams

In an undisclosed place in my bedroom is a diary, a fuzzy unicorn notebook with a lock and key from Claire’s. I have hundreds of entries, all starting with “dear diary” (childish, I know) and always ending with my sign-off “love Charlotte.” In between that, I write about the good things, but more often than not I share my hardships and air my frustrations in frantic and illegible writing.

I tend to romanticize the past, believing that everything used to be so great. My diary has become a historical record to show that every phase of my life has been imperfect — full of good but also bad.

In a few years, I’m sure a wave of nostalgia will hit me, I will remember my college years only as fond memories. Hopefully the entries will be able to give me a little perspective on my past, remind me that everything is not rainbows and butterflies.

-Charlotte Shields-Rossi