Hello Journal Therapy

When I was younger, (maybe 13?) I wrote in my journal for a year. It was a huge binder of page after page. One day I walked into my mom reading it. I felt absolutely naked and betrayed. My mom promised she would never ever do this again… I knew she was lying. That summer my dad also read it. I tore every single page into a million pieces. I regret that to this day. I have such a bad memory that even just a years worth of journaling would have been amazing now. I can hardly even remember what happened last week. Also, it was such a nice outlet for me. This is why today, I have decided, (more than 20 years later) that I will write my feelings down once again. God knows I can’t afford therapy so maybe this will help. Sorry I am not a writer.