Found a few journals from the tender age of 31. I made myself giggle whilst strolling down memory lane. To quote myself:

“Why is it so easy to focus on the negative? Is it because the pain is too difficult to let go? Or because it’s easy to hold onto?”

Even then I wrote about my affection for the moon, and the skies, and nature, and thunderstorms. It’s always been a lifelong love affair. And wow, I used to really believe in myself. I dare say I really liked myself too. I was a courageous lass. I’m enjoying reading these.