Ever since I can remember, writing has been one of my therapies. I probably have an entire novel written on an old dinosaur of a laptop from when I was younger, with all the gory details about my crushes and loves (that’s a stretch) and heartbreaks and losses. In fact, I’ll expose myself here: I even used to write down the details of my day, every day, for the better part of a year. I was twelve, okay!

My mindset? Well, I was convinced that when I got old I’d want nothing more than to relive the good old days (…sixth grade, Victoria? The good old days?). And what better way to really relish in them than to provide my future self with every detail. Like… every. single. detail. I would write down what I wore to school, who I sat with at lunch, who I messaged on Skype or Kik (goodbye). I even sent out a massive email to all my peers, encouraging them to do the same (okay influencer).

Oh, I just love little me. She was so embarrassing. I’m still her, though, aren’t I, because here I am gearing up to do more of the same. I’ll use this section as my therapy, to let it all out, to share the little things, the thoughts that most people leave safely inside their own heads. Maybe you’ll resonate, maybe you’ll learn something, or maybe you’ll just make fun of me and move on with your day (and if so, I’m right there with you).