The Evolution of My Diary

Diaries have always been one of my favorite things, even from childhood. I absolutely loved getting them as gifts. Back then, my neighbors who owned shops or businesses would bring me diaries (probably because they got them free). I would immediately start filling those crisp pages with poems, and to my surprise, people around me- my mom, teachers, and even relatives who still cheer me on today, actually encouraged it. 

Then came high school, and with it, my mathematical disaster phase. The poor diary became the punching bag for my anger, frustration, and occasional hatred mostly directed at myself and, of course, at Maths (But never at my kind math teacher, who always understood my struggle). As my teenage years rolled on, the diary transformed yet again. It became the stage for dramatic confessions, infatuations, heartbreaks, rejections, and the occasional “why is life so unfair?” monologue. Basically, it read more like the script of a tragic soap opera than the journal of a bold young girl. Things got especially interesting when my "very conservative parents" accidentally discovered my scribbles. Let’s just say they were horrified, fearing I’d go rogue and make wild personal choices (which, to be honest, weren’t even in my imagination back then). Looking back now, I just want to shout to every girl: Go ahead! Make your choices! Live your life! It’s YOUR diary and YOUR rules. Oops! did I just sound like a feminist? Never mind, moving on..

After I got married, my diary once again became my private world. Thankfully, my husband and daughter respect my personal space and, frankly, they’re too disinterested in reading. Over time, my writing shifted away from heartbreaks and equations I never solved, and into something more uplifting. My diary turned into a collection of hopes, positivism, and gratitude. Each night before bed, I write about the people who inspire me- colleagues, or friends who have lifted me up, healed old wounds, or simply motivated me to be better. For them, I express gratitude. I thank them and I pray for them. Gratitude to my students, who I teach every single day, because with every lesson I share, I learn something new from them too. Gratitude to my child, who moulds me every day with love, patience, and endless lessons that no book could ever teach. Gratitude to the universe, for giving me far more than I deserve and its quiet blessings.

So yes, my diary finally has a purpose: Gratitude. Such a small word, yet so powerful. Be grateful, not only to the Almighty but also to the people around you who bring peace, love, and maybe even a little comic relief. Let your diary be your mirror, your therapist, and sometimes your stand-up comedy stage. Because in the end, it’s not just about writing..it’s about growing, laughing, loving, and of course, being grateful🙏