Before I began writing anything at all I was torn between my decision to destroy or keep. Could I really decide to destroy something that would be filled with anything and everything I have ever pondered, wished, reflected on, documented, cried over, laughed over, or loved over? But at the same time, could I really decide to keep something like that? Out for the taking, first come first serve! If I am not there to play the game of duck duck goose for who can or cannot sift through the physical pages of my mind, I am not so sure if I am sold on the idea of saving the thing either.
Ultimatley, as I found myself nervous just to post about my personal experiences on this community blog, I have realized that the act of saving my most intimate thoughts for someone else to read without my knowledge proves to be extremely unsettling. Yet, I still don’t think I would be able to partake in the act of destroying it either…
An idea expressed in the article “Burning Your Diaries” by Dominique Browning really resonated with me and I understood why she would engage in the act of setting fire to her journals. She had stated that as her sons are growing older, she fears they will begin to snoop and possibly come across her diaries (in which she assured they would most likely end up reading). For these predictions led her to destroy the bindings of the paper she used to record 40 years worth of memories, good and bad. She defended this decision in stating that she ultimately would rather her sons not read about the lows of her lifetime one day, and she would prefer that they remember her as a strong woman and mother. In my opinion, her backing for this decision seemed almost like a selfless act, where she sacrificed the documentation of a lifetime’s worth of memories in order to spare the emotions of her son's that would follow had they known all of her life’s secrets.
In a perfect world, I wish I was able to cut a hole in the wall of my bedroom, shove my diary in there, and replaster the wall like nothing happened. Like planting a seed, this idea would allow my thoughts to live in the insolation of my house for eternity. It would also save me from the terror of another individual ever having the opportunity to come across my writings. Like Browning, I would want those I love to remember me at my best, although I cannot be me if I neglect to acknowledge my worst times.
Maybe the sole act of writing out my thoughts in a diary would allow me to memorize the better ones so I could always keep them with me.
I love the way you started this post. Your voice came through right away, and I was immediately intrigued by your struggle to express something personal about yourself. I can absolutely relate to your ambivalent feelings about whether or not to destroy your diaries. The possibility of someone else reading our most personal thoughts and feelings seems unsettling, as you said, but destroying something that contains such a big part of us, something we quite literally poured our hearts into, doesn't feel right either. On another note, I would suggest adding some multimedia elements to your post, such as pictures and links to make it more engaging and dynamic. Additionally, I loved the tone you used throughout the piece, but in the paragraph where you discussed Dominque Browning's article, it shifted into more of an academic and formal voice. Maybe try to keep that casual authentic nature of your writing consistent so as to avoid putting off the reader with scholarly language. Otherwise, I really enjoyed this and thought you presented some very interesting content!
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