[Estimated reading time: 2 minutes] Have you ever read someone else’s diary? I mean in secret, without permission. I did. Once. I was around 24 years old and visiting a friend who had moved to a foreign country. Whatever else she had written, I no longer remember; what I do remember is reading “I worry that Grace thinks we are closer friends than we are.” Ouch. That was enough to ensure I never ever read anyone else’s private words again.
Essayist and humorist David Sedaris said, “If you read someone else’s diary, you get what you deserve.” I couldn’t agree more. What I got was a heavy dose of self-doubt, shame, and fear that other people I thought were friends weren’t. I’m not sure why I did it; what gave me the right to trespass into someone’s personal thoughts and private writings?
When I started keeping a diary, I began each entry “Dear Holly” (it was a Holly Hobbie diary). Anne Frank named her diary Kitty. A friend of mine wrote “Dear Sister.” It’s an interesting premise: that we are writing not to ourselves, but to an imaginary someone. I find it fascinating to think about the qualities of this someone that many girls write to.
The someone we address in our diaries is essentially the fully willing listener, the one who wants to know what we have to say. The receiver of the diary’s words, of our outpourings of emotion or simple accounting of our days, is ideal: always ready, always welcoming, always available. A writing teacher I have worked with talks about “the hearing intelligence,” asking that we not simply express on the page but engage in listening to what we are expressing; paying attention to the words we use; the assumptions we make; the natural questions that would arise if we were a living Kittie, Holly, or Sister.
Most importantly, Kittie, Holly, or Sister would never betray our privacy. Most diary and journal writers have at one time or another had to consider the question of privacy: What if my mother/father/brother/sister/friend reads this? This is a very real concern for teen girls, who are not yet fully independent, whose parents may believe it is their right to take a peek*, whose siblings may enjoy teasing her. One friend of mine wanted to keep a diary but didn’t for fear of her brothers finding it.
This is the reason that the Oasis Pages begins with a privacy page (I have seen girls light up when they see this!). And while there are no guarantees that someone won’t read their diary, I wanted to let girls know that they have the right to expect privacy, to claim a private space to just be themselves, experiment with and explore who they are when they’re alone — and then share that when, how, and with whom they want to.
At the end of the day, David Sedaris got it right. No matter who reads a person’s diary, it is not the diary writer’s concern; the burden falls on the trespassing reader. Besides, other than Holly, who would really have wanted to know what I gave my best friend for her 14th birthday or just how many crushes I had on a particular day.
GraceNote I would like to acknowledge that there are certainly rare cases when a girl may be in significant enough danger that her parents’ decision to read her diary, taken with deep reflection and acceptance of responsibility for what they find, is the right one.
