I never write about my personal life and I just remembered 10 minutes ago why.
I was 19, pacing around my room, my pulse was throbbing in my head, my breathing was hard and it was all I could do not to scream!!! ???
There was no one else home and I walked over to my bed and slammed my fist down. The notebook I had left open on top of my bed bounced with the force of the blow. I looked at it, disgusted. ???
I felt completely and utterly violated. My roommate had the nerve to go through my private belongings and read my private thoughts! ??? These things were never meant to be shared. They were meant for my eyes only, for me to decide if, how and when to share with others.
How dare she do something like that? ??? I was shocked and dismayed. It’s one thing to violate someone’s privacy and read their private writings. It’s a whole different level of disrespect to actually draw and write in someone else’s art & poetry book.
I didn’t feel safe to write down my deepest and darkest stories and visions. ???
That was when I decided not to write anything personal again.
Now, with this new awareness, I have decided to shift it and am choosing here and now to welcome the floodgate of my stories to open by immediately writing this one.
So get ready. I’m just getting started.
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