The beginnings of a writer

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 β€˜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.