When I was seven years old, I had been invited to a birthday party for my friend, Grace. Her mom always threw the coolest birthday parties, so I thought I knew what I was getting myself into; The usual, which was a scavenger hunt, some cake, and a basement style sleepover. This time was different, though. When I looked at their dining room table, my eyes were met with a few brown and blank diaries that were hoping to be filled. My eyes filled with hearts as Grace’s mom explained that we will each be decorating and keeping one as our own.   

When I returned home with my amazing cardboard textured book, I then wrote down how the sleepover turned out. I studied my work on the outside too; My name spelled, “LAUR” in sticky letters, framed and surrounded by multicolored, puffy hearts. It was perfect. As my second-grade days filled with plot and time kept spreading, I kept writing. I wrote about how I felt, what I learned each day, and about the people I had met. Little did I know how amazingly this hobby would affect me. 

 Now, in my sophomore year of college, I have most of my stories organized and written for me. I have the entirety of my middle school career in one green leather diary, with high school written into a multi-colored journal (that was the covid chronicles, don’t even get me started) and a thick brown journal. It’s cool to think that I have full spans of relationships written out, start to finish, but also small things like how I felt about classes, what I wore, and my favorite foods at the time. 

Because I learned how to talk to myself, I also learned how to deal with the flare-ups of growing up and look back in my pages to see how I’ve changed in handling things. On top of that, I also have an amazing memory and connection to dates. This has led me to be nearly pristine at remembering birthdays and anniversaries. I can remember exact conversations from years ago. Writing sets my stories in place forever and creates a solid timeline in my mind. 

What started as a little kid hobby turned into my favorite thing to do. With these works I’ve created; I’ve been able to read back and see the exact moments my life began to change. I learned how to keep tabs and understand myself. Thanks to some simple second-grade sentences in a cardboard diary, I’ve always been in touch with who I am.  

This brings me to now!  

I’m bringing this column to you to give you all my knowledge on journaling while showing you the now and the how. I’ll be sharing my own experiences and advice while presenting weekly journal prompts meant to get you into journaling. Whether you want to document your life’s stories like me, learn more about who you were/are, or are just here for the various prompts, I hope you can take something away from this column.