Putting My Life Into Scrapbooks

Like every mom born before 1980, my mom has dozens of photo albums. At any time, I can flip through memories and transport myself to a time I’ve never been with people I’ve never met. I can look back at myself with kinder eyes and realize how great I had it (how skinny I was) when I wish I had more (the lightest I’ve ever weighed because I was a literal child). 

Since entering my mid-20s, I’ve realized I can follow in my mom’s footsteps. I can print photos instead of letting them die on my iPhone or be launched into the sky to live among the clouds. I started with basic photo albums and one junk journal. 

Now, I have a trunk. A scrapbooking trunk. To be fair, the trunk isn’t full of photo albums and scrapbooks. There are also scrapbooking supplies and extra notebooks. 

I have multiple junk journals, filled with receipts, stickers, photos, and designs saved from Pinterest. I keep an outfit journal to archive my best outfits and looks. My manifestation scrapbook holds all my hopes and dreams. Each book is filled with pieces of my personality. 

As I start new pages, I reflect on the ones that come before.

Analyzing and reflecting on the creative decisions I made not that long ago, as if they will reveal some secret about who I was then (a week ago).