I have always been one of those nerds who has kept a diary, on and off, at various stages of my life.

I have always been a writer and memories are important to me.

It started with the paper. My Nanna gifted me this beautiful correspondence box. It was 20 sheets of A5 paper, thick between your fingers, lightly ruled into neat lines and bordered with pink roses. Opening the box, a slightly potpourri smell wafted out, each and every time. Attached with a ribbon was a Parker pen and I marveled at how smoothly it glided across the paper’s surface.

It was a sensory experience to sit down and write. So, when I received a matching pink floral journal, my interest was already piqued. Excited electricity coursed through me.

To this day, I have a stack of diaries (which I began writing in Primary School), as well as numerous shoe boxes of letters (organised into various sections of my life) and various other important memorabilia (not just from my life, but my parents and grandparents as well). When I look at them, the electricity returns.

It is this sentimental stuff which I turn to when I need a laugh, or to remember just how far I’ve come in my life thus far. It’s cringe-worthy reading and I bloody love it! Soul-searching little me, madly in love at 7 years old, noting the weather and the faux pas of the times… well, it’s hilarious, to be honest!

I romanticise about my childhood writing process now, but (from memory) my first entry goes along the lines of “I actually hate pink flowery stuff but I can’t tell Nan cos she’ll cry. It is Wednesday and I will start writing in here anyway. It might be good practice for my job as a book writer. I hope I have the write stuff to be a writer.” Good thinkin’ 8 year old me. Write stuff indeed!

I recently tried to unlock this diary. I want to reminisce. I want to laugh. I want to balk at the utter bull within. Unfortunately, the key (so carefully guarded for the last twenty-something years) has disappeared. I think I will need a safe cracker, to be able to access the contents. It is, after all, top secret stuff. All those deterring stickers say so!