Since i can remember i have kept a diary. I started with what was called a Dinky Diary which mum used to make me write in every day after school - i remember thinking i had nothing to say.. but i persevered and by 10 i was typing page long entries on a somewhat antique typewriter in my bedroom. As you can imagine, there were several entries featuring mein girls at skool and jorgeous boyes.. clearly, a career as a secretary was on the cards.
Misspellings and dodgy typing aside, for me, writing a journal became a release. Like a pensive in a Harry Potter movie, providing storage for my thoughts until i had the mental capacity to deal with them. I also think that, because of this, i seldom made mistakes twice and learnt that there are few things in life that time cannot heal - particularly when it comes to relationships.
I guess starting a blog was a natural progression for me and, if i have learnt anything from gen Y, posting your thoughts and feelings on the internet is now common enough that it can go unnoticed by your friends but appreciated by somewhat unlikely strangers.
So in the end, it wasn't really a question of why write a blog, it was why the hell not?
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