As a child, I remember coming home from school each day, throwing my bag aside and grabbing my diary to scribble down all that transpired throughout my day at school before I forgot.

At first, I never thought I’d enjoy writing down my day-to-day activities, but what began as a fun exercise soon became a ritual.

The dairy was my record of everywhere I went, be it family holidays or school trips and everything I did. It held a record of my first award at school, first dance performance and even disciplinary lectures for not completing my homework; it was all in there. But then I grew up and the advent of Internet took over my love for keeping a journal and the diary was forgotten, until this weekend when I was rummaging through my luggage.

Looking through the pink, sequined cover I realized how much had changed in my life, including the fact I don’t like pink anymore. Inside the journal were fun and honest confessions of a 12-year-old stepping into her teenage years, dealing with adolescence and overcoming the trials and tribulations that entailed. A section of the diary included goals. As I read my past entries, I was happy to see I achieved one goal, which read “lose weight.”

I chuckled as the memories flashed before me, brought about by reading all the things I had written in my youth.

After reading through the diary for an hour, I realized how much I missed owning one. Today, my personal scribbles are nothing more than notes under a magnet stuck to my refrigerator.

This most recent trip down memory lane has me considering keeping the promises I confessed to my dairy about writing a novel, learning Spanish and French. It’s also reminded me that I’ll be a happy person no matter what comes my way.