19 excerpts from my teenage diary

I got this idea from Hannah Gale’s post here (she’s actually done three I think) and it got me thinking about it! As a failure of a writer, I never kept a regular diary except for two times in my life, which I will demonstrate here. This was through Year 8 of school and again when I was 17. Yes, most are about boys but what are you going to do, now lets all laugh at my past miseries (names have been changed to protect people (aha sounds so serious when they’ll know who they are anyway!)) (Double bracket – is it that kind of day?) I’m also going to add comments and as always try my hardest to be funny, just leave me in my little bubble where I am as funny as Chrissy Teigen.

Flatlay of diary

20th January 2007

I can’t help pondering what it would be like to live on for eternity, seeing friends and family die. Some people think this as a gift, I think of it as a curse.

So deep barely 13 year old Rhianna. You took this writing a diary thing very seriously, I mean chill out. This is like one those unpopular opinions on Twitter which isn’t actually unpopular at all?

6th February 2007

Lisa* kept hugging Paul* which wasn’t fair so I ran away. Everyone ran away and Lisa* got upset and I think Paul* is mad at me.

Ahh, the main drama of my Year 8 existence. I hate to break it to you, teen Rhi, but life gets a f*ck ton more unfair than this, and you can’t run away.

19th February 2007

In Art everyone enjoyed telling me to shut up when I wasn’t talking and in Music Sara* kept flicking paper at me.

What can I say? I lived the high life.

20th February 2007

Kit* is passing a rumour that I’m pregnant which is obviously not true. Sara* is being horrible as well. George P* has asked Lauren* out and she’s asked me, gulp. I asked Paul*, lol.

I was 13 here. THIRTEEN. I mean seriously, I was a childish teen as well (I didn’t even wear make up until I was 17) so not the most believable rumour. And that Sara was a bitch. I’m enjoying my use of the word ‘gulp’ to really express how I was feeling, and back in the day when I used ‘lol’ un-ironically. Simpler times. 

11th March 2007

Paul* was there and he’d invited Lisa*.  I felt left out and it’s not fair he takes her everywhere I love him so much ☹

I don’t know where ‘there’ was, but I felt very strongly about it at the time. Early use of emojis here – this was in the days of MSN, it’s like a documentary… – and yes, I did actually draw out the sad face. I’ve also just had a brainwave to see if I still have a record of my old MSN conversations anywhere..

26th April 2007

We came back and Paul* was there! Tanned and distanter (sorry hun this isn’t a word), he had changed. ICT was normal. After school gym rehearsal – fun. Almost lost Paul* as a friend but safe now I think.

Sorry to break it to you little Rhi, but you don’t even speak to that person anymore and one day you’ll look casually on their Twitter to find out they blocked you. Who knew my very sporadic tweets could be so annoying. Maybe it’s because I make up words.

26th October 2007

Shout! Sugar! J-14! Bliss! Sorry feeling random 😊

You’re not feeling random, you just wrote down lots of magazine titles. Fun fact – I once made up a ‘funny’ story for Shout Magazine and put it under a fake name. It got published and I got a £10 cheque, which I couldn’t have because it wasn’t my name. 

Flatlay of phone showing photo and postcard

24th March 2009

I feel so terrible!! Been almost a month (tomorrow), I’ll know what I mean. There I was wallowing in self pity when he was going through something much worse all this time. I wish he’d told me. Talked to me about it. I can’t believe I was so mean to him. I just want to hug him forever. Oh God please help. I don’t know what to do!

I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I mean. Very over dramatic though, slightly more words now though that we’re into 15 year old territory.

11th May 2010

I talked to thingy he bought me a cookie today 😊

Ahh, boy code names. How times have changed. 

12 May 2010

There’s something written about me in Billy*’s planner. ‘Kidnap Rhianna’ something. I’m sure of it. And I’m going to find out.

I remember this, and I never did find out. I also once lied about this person being my boyfriend to my cousin when I was about 12. 

Sunday 24th April 2011

How many of the great stories, great accounts of the world are only the retelling of things read, witnessed, but never felt? Surely that should be a terrifying thought. But who’s scared of a thought? I’m scared of things like wasps and fire, but thoughts can be controlled. Can they? Because surely my biggest fear is the thought of being alone forever.  I don’t have the experience of being truly alone, but that’s my biggest fear. Is that just a vague thought, that has latched onto my inexperienced consciousness? Isn’t that what anybody’s identity is?

Welcome to my 17 year old psyche. This is was my ‘trying to be Sylvia Plath’ phase, in which I tried to write deep things and pretend my life was more interesting than it was.

Sunday 1st May 2011

We’re so alike and yet, he doesn’t see me. I sometimes think that self conscious half smile was just for me, but it’s just how he smiles. At everyone. I pretend to myself that he’s looking at me with affection. Maybe even love. But it’s just how he looks at people. How long am I going to keep pretending to myself? He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t even SEE ME. Not really. I’m just a girl. I’m always just a girl. “Not that girl.” (8) [Wicked]

Before you ask, yes I really did write (8) to signify a music note and put ‘Wicked’ in brackets. This song was my go to ‘nobody understannnnnds me’ song. 

Thursday 19 May 2011

The overwhelming unstoppable hysterics that can occur when talking to your best friend. The complete and utter lack of regard for how you must seem because who cares? Best friends should be wonderful. To talk about anything, from the end of the world, to death, to sex, to Dumbledore. What more joy can there be? The phone pressed to your ear, you know how and when he’s going to laugh, his voice so familiar. Just complete abandonment.

I just don’t write like this anymore, you know? I think the ‘overwhelming unstoppable hysterics’ is a bit overkill, I’m being a bit dramatic. He’s not thaaaat funny.

Friday 20 May 2011

Do you ever get those days? The days you know you’re not good enough. I’m too fat, my legs are short, I’m not motivated enough, not clever enough, not exciting enough, too big hips, big feet, round face, fat hands, fat thighs, ugly, not worth anything.

I would love to go back and give my 17 year old self hug and tell her that one day she won’t feel like this, but some days I do. Sad to think that 7 years later, some things are still the same. 

Thursday 2nd June 2011

I would write down the events of day, but unlike Sylvia Plath, my days are depressingly boring. If I led in her time maybe it would be different. But I don’t. I live in this time, I live my life. Even though it’s not much for a life. So I try and sound smart.

Namedrop! Yes, I dropped ma girl Sylvia in it (I was obsessed with her – I even used her in my personal statement to get into University). Sorry babes, my life is still depressingly boring, and now I don’t even try to sound smart anymore. 

Wednesday 29 June 2011

I’ve realised, I’m never happier than when I am anticipating something. My anticipation for it allows me to daydream and fantasise about my perfect scenario, while the actual even never equals my impossible dreams. For at least 6 years of my life I was anticipating my first kiss and watching millions of unrealistic romcoms led me to build it up in my mind so much that the actual event was a sad disappointment. Is this going to be my whole life? An endless disappointment?


Wednesday 27th July 2011

I wear a mask. The people around me don’t think I do but I do. It’s painted by them. Whoever they are, determines who I will be. Will I be funny, or smart, or quiet, or extrovert, or sexy? Who will I be today? Who wins?

Oh stop it, you. So deep. Too much. 

16 August 2011

That BITCH! Think she can insult my friends huh? Gah I want to slap her face in! And she dares to call me ugly and lame! I have so much more than her – for one the loyalty to stand by someone! Little hypocrite, thinks she’s better than me? How DARE SHE! I could get into Oxbridge!

Don’t you worry, 17 year old Rhianna has your BACK. That’s right, I wrote in my diary about it. That means it is getting serious. I didn’t even apply for Oxbridge, just to maintain some mystery there.

Thursday 29 September 2011

So I may have failed at not texting. But why can’t he just understand that I want my best friend back!

Because he’s a boy, honey. 

Flatlay of diary

If you want to hear my musings on my age now and difficult it is (don’t show this to my teenage self please) check out my ‘Mid Twenty Life Crisis.’


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