INTRODUCTION
Much of what we remember is often how we choose to remember it. But when you write it all down, it is like going back in that moment, reliving it as the 1980’s all over again; reminding us how powerful the mind can be in changing the memory’s narrative.
My story is not special or unique, but it is mine. It could easily be anyone’s story. It is the teenage angst, joys, fears, discoveries, heartache, and growth that most of us have had in some form.
I have pulled out the diaries and journals over the years and quickly put them away likely mortified by my words and behaviors. Every so often I would come back to the thought that I should publish them so that whoever the audience might be could read that those feelings transcend time. But I had my own children and the thought of them doing things that I did or reading about them might make them see me in a different light.
I recently rediscovered the journals. It made me realize that time has distorted my memories. Some of the memories were more painful than I remember. Others were not as dramatic as I played them out on repeat in my head. And then there were some that were so raw and honest I tucked them away so deep I forgot the magnitude of those moments on my life. But they were all real and by having written it down then it was like going back in time and watching my life’s movie play out in front of me. I have been loved and I have loved in return. As I reflect, I feel lucky to have had all those experiences.
I look back and remember the break-ups more than the highs I felt during those times. Because I was always the one breaking up, I am sure it is how I reconciled my actions. My journals reminded me I was quick to change my mind about those boys. I wish I would have handled those break-ups better for the sake of the boys I was running from. The ones who were willing to love me were the ones I hurt the most. I wonder in hindsight, knowing myself as I did and do, if it was that I was too afraid to let myself love/like them as much as they loved/liked me. I had such a love-hate relationship with myself, and they bore the brunt of that.
I have kept my journals since I started writing in fourth grade. I have kept every letter I was ever written. Those have been the most powerful reminders that I was loved and that I had friends I could turn to and count on during tough times. I also wrote poetry to convey my feelings on a deeper, more metaphorical level.
My friendships and struggles to keep them do not fail to make the pages. The battles with my parents were real. Figuring out who I was without my sport that had defined every part of me was especially grueling. But my story was never unique. We have all lived our own versions.
As I read and reread the journals to write this, I struggle with how much of myself to put out there. I read it thinking how bi-polar I sounded. I was happy one day, sad the next. I complimented myself here, hated myself there. My weight, my skin, my obsession with celebrities played out in fantasies, crushing on boys that made no sense. I beat myself up often. And I question why my friendships were so volatile. I am struck by how I chose to remember things versus how I wrote about them. And I am so glad I was able to find my inner strength in every moment and experience. Those experiences shaped who I became. It does not mean that even now there are not days I still struggle with that identity.
There is much I do not remember. And much I remember differently than I wrote. Those were the hardest years of my life, as they were for most of us. I have found this a beautiful journey back in time realizing that reality was not always what I recall and that I was not alone in my feelings. The struggles were real. Running away from people and emotions were just ways of avoiding vulnerability.
I remember feeling like no one ever liked me, that I was too ugly or too fat or too damaged to like. But reading back, I realize there were boys who were interested in me; I just didn’t share the interest. We do not always fall for the people who fall for us. I became so focused on my feelings not being reciprocated by those I liked, ultimately fueling a sense that I was not worthy of others’ affections.
People tell me now how they thought I was constantly smiling and seemed happy, that they secretly admired that, and wished they had half the confidence I did in high school. Clearly, what we project is not always what we believe.
Sometimes as I was transcribing my entries, I found myself wanting to yell at the words I was writing, wanting to tell myself to stop it, just hang in there as things are about to change. Or just let him love you instead of trying to make him hate you. If I just had the power of hindsight, being in the moment could have been so much more than anticipating what might be in the end.
I spent too much time in my own head. Judging myself. Worried how others saw me. I look at that person now and do not see the person I became. I have always been my own person sometimes marching to the beat of a different drummer, sometimes not. What I have somehow managed to seamlessly project to the world my entire life is not always what my brain is reflecting inside me. But if any of us were truly that transparent there would never be a story to tell.
The following pages are non-fiction. They are my words exactly as I wrote them. They are my thoughts, fantasies, fears, failures, triumphs, loves, and experiences as I lived them. They are my poems, and they are the notes and letters that went with those time periods.
I have been asked why I would want to publish my innermost thoughts and experiences. It opens you up to scrutiny. It exposes parts of yourself that you worked so hard to overcome. But it also shows the human side of growing up. I kept all my writings, maybe that is why I was encouraged to put it out there. Growing up is never easy. I know there will be people that see themselves in these pages not just because they were part of my story but because parts of their story were not really that different than mine. A friend asked what I hope to accomplish doing this? I do not have an answer. On a personal level, it has been a gut-wrenching, heart-warming, cathartic trip down a sometimes very dark hole. You will laugh, you might even cry. Those of you who know me might even be surprised. But I have put myself out there. Enjoy the ride. I did.
The Red Diary: The Very Beginning
(1977-1980)
The beginning of my writing in a diary was sporadic at best. My first entries are from 1977. I would be ten that year. Glimpses into my life would tell you that it consisted of obsessing over boys, brief mentions of time with friends, and swimming. In early 1977, I was still playing with Barbies, watching the Mouseketeers on TV, and pretending to be the Bionic Woman; however, I was already taking a strong interest in boys. I definitely had no qualms with letting my affections for boys be known. I even made-up afflictions for boys such as “Larryingitis” - after a boy named appropriately enough Larry. First notes and even a love letter followed in 1979. Glimpses of the foundation for my future mind are clear. If nothing else, it is a humorous perspective on how I viewed my life in the years before it got complicated.
The inside of the red diary reads:
Dear Diary, I really have never had a Diary before so these things might sound sorda weird, ok? -Kirsten
Dear Kirsten, It is ok. I understand. -Diary.
August 18, 1977: Dear Diary, I had a fun day. I’m starting to have crushes on boys.
August 19, 1977: Dear Diary, I have a new boyfriend. He’s 16 oh so cute. His name is Joe but I’m too young for him, but I love him.
January 1, 1979: Dear Diary, Today I drank a ½ can of beer. I stayed up to 12:00
A boy named Todd
January 2, 1979: Dear Diary: Today was great. Todd kept getting notes from me. He’s so cute. He’s supposed to give me a note back.
(Actual note written in pencil with a check box to mark yes or no.)
January 3, 1979: Dear Diary, Todd said he likes me. He doesn’t want us going together yet. He’s so neat. A lot of girls are jealous.
January 4, 1979: Dear Diary: I called Todd up today. He didn’t even tell me to call. I could kill Michelle. I still have a mad crush on him.
January 5, 1979: Dear Diary: Todd waved to me and smiled at me. Diana was gonna ask him his address. And if he was gonna ask me to go with him.
January 8, 1979: Dear Diary: Today was a good day. Saw Todd a lot. I love the kid. I wish he was mine.
January 10, 1979: Dear Diary: I’m loving Todd more and more. I’m sitting in his seat now for reading. I played tetherball a little today.
January 11, 1979: Dear Diary, I played Todd a little in tetherball. I love him even more now. I’m gonna play hard at tetherball tomorrow.
January 12, 1979: Dear Diary: I let Todd have cuts in tetherball. I still love the kid. I hope he’ll always be mine. I can’t get over how cute he is.
January 13, 1979: Dear Diary: Today I had a swim meet. Did pretty good. I saw my old boyfriend Jim B. He’s still cute. I’ll always remember him.
April 21, 1979: Dear Diary, a lot has happened between Jan 13 and today. First off from Todd he finally did ask me. I said “no.” Then I went to Jim again to ask him to go with me. He said he was going with someone else. Then came Mike N who I also asked. He said no because I bug him too much. It was because Tara told me to call him. Then came Marco. He’s so cute. Still think he’s cute but I want Mike no one else but Jim B. I like Mike’s eyes so much. We’re going to Germany this summer. I can hardly wait. Swimming is really great now.
A boy named Marco
April 29, 1979: A whole week has gone by. Marco likes me, I think.
May 1, 1979: Hi! Don’t get mad. Maybe Marco doesn’t like me. But I think when he breaks-up with Stephanie I think he’ll ask me (hopefully). I hope he will ask me. He says he doesn’t know how to French kiss and he kissed this girl for 10 sec. Now don’t you call that Frenching? Yep! (your answer). He’s so indescribable. I know his phone number by heart.
May 2, 1979: Hi! I think Marco is beginning to like me. Stephanie says he’ll probably break-up soon. I hope so. He got his hair cut. Stephanie does not like him as much now that his hair is cut. I still like him though. He’s such a babe. A friend says he’s worse than Todd. You know getting fresh. I think I like guys like that.
May 4, 1979: Hi! Marco does like me. Well, I think he does? Because he was looking at me almost all day. I think because I was wearing this slightly sexy dress. I think he’ll break up with Stephanie pretty soon. If I go with him I hope we both will learn how to French! Me and Tara have a bet on the 1st one to get a guy. A $2 ice cream.
May 6, 1979: Hi! I did good at the meet May 5. I got 1st in the 11 year old division. Debbie, a good swimmer, says she thinks Jim B. likes me again. I don’t like him as a boyfriend though. I like Marco and tomorrow’s school again and he might ask me. I think he will sometime this week. I hope he learns to French if I go with him.
May 10, 1979: Howdy! Sorry for not writing. Nothing great happened till today. No, he didn’t ask me! I wrote him a letter asking some questions and here are his answers. Age: 12. Birthday: May 26. He has 1 brother 2 sisters. And he thinks I write OK. Stephanie says don’t be surprised if you’re going with him next week.
May 11, 1979: Hi! Marco hasn’t asked me yet, unfortunately! He’s such a doll. He’s also nice. I think he’s gonna ask me soon hopefully. Today we had a school track meet. I came in first in the broad jump. I saw Marco all day. And I fell more in LOVE with him. Only a few more weeks till we leave for Germany. I’m gonna miss Marco when we go. If he asks me, I hope he kisses me on the lips.
May 20, 1979: Dear Diary, sorry for not writing for a while. I had a track meet. I made 2nd place and Marco my friend. I think he hasn’t asked me because I think he thought I was too popular or something. We became good friends at the track meet. I think Marco will ask sometime this week. Had swim meet today and yesterday, did pretty good for goofing off in practice.
May 31, 1979: I’m never gonna ever go with him (I think). I don’t like him as much. I’m back to Jim*. Only 8 more days till we leave for Germany. I’m gonna miss dad. I love my family so. I wish dad could come and Heike (our dog).
[*Jim B.: my forever crush who never really ever paid much attention to me.]
June 6, 1979: He asked me!! I couldn’t believe it. We were at graduation (a skating rink) and he asked me. I think we’re gonna go with each other during summer. He is so neat. He asked me at 11:15am. Yesterday he called but I was asleep. We skated together holding hands. I hope we go with each other thru the summer.
June 8, 1979: It’s been 2 days since he asked me. And today we’re leaving for Germany. Marco kissed me goodbye, on the lips. It was so neat. I didn’t even expect it. I also got his picture. We’re gonna keep in touch. I like him.
June 9, 1979: My third day going with Marco and I miss him so much. I hope we go with each other all summer…Me and Marco like each other so much. I still can’t believe we kissed (I drew lips). Wow!
June 10, 1979: Another boring day without Marco. I wrote him a letter, though. It said, “…I miss you, a lot! Sealed with a kiss!” …so on. I like him so much.
June 11, 1979: Today was better than yesterday. I didn’t miss Marco as much, but I still miss him. He’s such a sweetheart…I think I love him.
June 12, 1979: You know what? I think I most miss Marco’s lips, hug, and hand more now than before. The meaning holding.
[Lisa/Leaky was my best friend from first grade. She sent me all the letters I had written her over the years, including this gem.]
(Actual letter inserted)
June 15, 1979: Marco’s still in my head, but Oliver is even more. I’d never 2 time a boy…Here you’re allowed to buy cigarettes when you’re young. Me and Ina (my cousin) are gonna smoke Tues. Maybe!?
June 19, 1979: [My Oma confronted me about the smoking. I denied it. I came clean in this note I wrote her in my best German.]
(Actual note inserted).
(Dear Omi, Today you asked me something. And you said that if I did it you would not tell my mom. So now I am telling you what I did not before. I tried smoking one time. Please don’t be mad and don’t tell my mom. Please don’t.
Yours, Kirsten)
June 20, 1979: 2 weeks ago today he asked me. That was probably the most important day of my life other than that Friday when we kissed. I like him so. Still…Saw Oliver today at courts. I wish he knew how much I like him. I’d never take him though cause I have someone much better.
June 22, 1979: 2 weeks since he kissed me and 16 days since he asked me. I like him, a lot. And I’d like him and my friends more if they wrote. Ina and I smoked today. That was my 3rd cigarette this day. Got my period 2 days ago.
June 24, 1979: I’ve been seriously thinking of breaking up with Marco. I just can’t take it you know not seeing him and all. But down inside I really like him, so much.
June 25, 1979: It’s almost 3 weeks that we’ve been together. I don’t know how I could stand it without Marco. Going with him and not seeing him! And when I like Oliver and a 15 year old likes me I think. I also think a lot of other boys like me. I just think! I think I quit smoking. I think!
June 27, 1979: Today I got mad at my cousin and mom. And tomorrow I think I’m gonna break-up! Hopefully he’ll write me saying he wants to break-up. Then I’d feel a lot better not going with him. If it was at home and we saw each other a lot and we broke-up I’d be very down and depressed.
June 28, 1979: Today I broke-up! I’m glad too because I can’t hack it not seeing him and all. I got a letter from him. Which I think was too mushy. All it said was my Love! I have my lovers here. And I’ll find others next time. I don’t even think Marco went with me to make me happy, he really liked me.
(Letter dated June 22, 1979:)
Dear Kirsten,
Your letter came in the 21 of June. I have felt very happy because your letter came in. I thought you weren’t going to write to me. I think that picture you gave me is the loveliest picture I’ve ever had. Since you left you don’t know how much I’ve missed you my Love. But you will be back my Love. That very same day you left I missed you. It is really boring down here there’s nothing to do but think about you. I think this is the best thing to do for both of us.
My Love
You don’t know how much I miss you.
Your remembrance keeps me alive.
When I’m sad I remember you.
When I’m happy I remember you.
And I will keep remembering you.
Love,
Marco (last name)
June 29, 1979: I was joking around yesterday. Even if I did break-up, then tore up the letter, he would have never known. Tomorrow are the state championships.
