It is often joked about amongst our family, that due to my husband (Mr D) working and me not, as I'm studying and taking care of our little family, that we have stepped into a time warp and are something out of the 1950s. An era where the fashion was elegant, the music was joyous and the man worked while the woman looked after the family. Which we both kind of like and play on sometimes.
Back when typewriters existed, writing was my voice. I struggled to confide in others, turning to the un-judgemental pages of my diary to help me comprehend life and events that shaped me as a person. Lacking confidence, the thought of speaking my mind out loud terrified me. I was a ‘yes’ person, agreeing with others opinions, even if I didn’t. Never speaking up if I didn’t understand, in fear of being labelled stupid.