Naomi Girson | opinions editor

From the pages of my actual diary:

It took me a long time to start actually writing in a diary.

When I was younger I practically hoarded notebooks, mini ones, hardbacks, notebooks with textured covers, pen holders and locks on them. And yet, I did nothing with them and wrote nothing in them. It felt too daunting like I would have to keep a schedule, to remind myself to write a diary entry.

Oh, and I call it what it is, I don’t “journal,” I write in my diary. Not everything needs a grown-up pseudonym.

When I finally started writing in a notebook, it was slow going, as all things should be when they begin. I didn’t, and I still don’t, have designated diary time. I sometimes go months without writing a word, and then suddenly I’m pulling my diary out of my nightstand every night.

The notebook I began telling all my secrets to was totally lineless, I think that was part of the success I had. Fully blank pages, I could write any size, anywhere, anything.

I would just jot a thought down, every once in a while. Words that sounded good together, discordant thoughts too insane to type into my phone. Now, like I said I don’t keep a schedule or anything, but at the beginning of this year I started doing a monthly update for myself, noting random milestones and statistics to sum up the month; how many movies I watched, how many days I got 10,000 steps, trips I took, and a small synopsis of the month. Somehow it makes time move faster, I check the calendar and already we are past the first of whatever month we have made it to and I need to. No, I get to, write a page in my diary.

I keep two notebooks now, each serving their own important purpose. One is hardback, fancy and beautiful, totally blank pages. I draw pictures in it, rewrite movie lines I couldn’t get out of my head. That one is for pretty prose, aesthetic psychosis, pencil only. I date the pages but everything else is carte blanche. And then I have a composition notebook. Still coming in at a dollar and a quarter if you get them at the right place. The comp notebook is truly all you need. I don’t have to worry about ruining the pages, or writing too much for too long. I can write a page, or eight, it doesn’t matter, at least I’m writing.

The comp notebooks take pen, even though pens used to scare me on pretty lovely pages of a new notebook, I allow pen in those, dragging along the pages filling them with my rage filled rants, issues with boys and stories of weekends past. My writing comes out loopy and sloppy. I have always preferred to write fast, over writing neatly.

I think everyone should at least try to keep a diary. Just try to write a little something for you, something you feel you need to remember for later. You don’t even have to fill the page, you just have to tell it a secret.

Naomi Girson can be reached at girsonn@duq.edu