Dear Anne Frank,

Forty-two years later, on the very same day of which you stopped writing in your diary, was the day that I was born. The last entry of yours, you had discussed being a “bundle of contradictions” and that you were split between two personalities – the one that everyone knows and the one that only you know.

Today? This week? Last week? Perhaps it’s been my entire life so far? I have been fighting the same battle within myself, on different circumstances, ways to explain it and how, when or if one or the other personality shows up.  Or, if I really do have that problem. I am my own contradiction.

Just in the last month,  I was thrown on the path of self discovery… a personal journey to figuring out who I am (in general). And, once again, I am living by the quote of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” and the lyrics of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way,” and LeAnn Womack’s “I Hope You Dance.” The words… the words of the poem and two songs, they keep me going; they give the me strength to make decisions and move forward.

You once said that paper is more patient than people. After having read your diary when I was younger, I lived by that quote for the longest time. I didn’t really write to anyone particular, except in middle school when I wrote to “Wolfie.” I tried it, but it was quite awkward for me to write to a girl, considering boys seemed to have the goods of being quiet when you told them something. And, even though it was *JUST* paper, I still felt the comfort of writing to a male much better off for me.

I continued writing in diaries from middle school up until 2006. I had actually found an online journal website where I wrote from 2001 to 2009. That’s when my writing on paper kind of seized down, until I needed to share deeper thoughts that I just couldn’t bring myself to writing online. The online journals gave me a chance to read and share my life with others and get feedback via notes. Last year, I decided it was time to pack it up at that website and I never went back. I casually document entries via Posterous, but that’s about it. I haven’t trusted paper in so long, other than notes for stories and poetry. I need to find that comfort on paper once again.

Like you, while growing up, I had a hard time finding a friend to confide in. If the truth may still be out there, I still have a hard time letting myself go in front of people and letting them see the “true” me because I’m afraid what people would think, say or just in general, do. Basically it’s just a trust issue.

Who can I trust with my inner most feelings? Most people just don’t get me, like you thought they didn’t get you. Sometimes, as like you did, I find myself viewing myself as two people, the more reserved in front of people up against who I really am. Plus, what would people do with that information? Blackmail? Gossip? Ditch me as a friend? Support me? It’s more than likely the first two and then I’d feel really betrayed and I don’t want to walk back into that trap again. I don’t need that going on. At all.

And so, as I conclude this diary entry  I want to say that I have decided to write to you about my Washington, DC trip. I haven’t written much of anything, let alone a ‘real’ diary entry in so long. Granted this ISNT written on paper, but it will now be forever documented. As a friend that shares parallel thoughts, welcome to me, which oddly seems to be you many years ago… enjoy.

Your Friend,
Karen-Maeby

Dear Anne Frank,

Before I completely wrap up my trip, I must mention that I live my life thoroughly by signs, metaphors and symbols. Most of my life I have questioned everything. Why this? Why that? You should do this – but why? You should really think about that before you do that – but why?

To me, life seems to be a big mystery that needs to be questioned. Along the way, there are clues – there are always clues (or signs) but you just have to look for them. You are your own investigator of your life. Life is the game, but you are clearly the “Clue” master at hand.

The game of Chess could also be related to life. One move, one bad move and it’s game over. One good move and it could possibly be a winning streak.

Most people would not like to live this way, you know, always looking for answers.  

It wasn’t until 3 years ago that I really even started living life. I finally got out on my own, started REALLY experiencing the adult life. Even through the tough times, I like it so much. I would never want to go back to being a kid, as many wish to do.

I had always sat in the sidelines. While I sat there without change, the world was changing and moving on…without me. I was stuck in the past while calendar dates were being stolen by Mr. Time. I didn’t want that anymore, so I took charge. That might be the reason why I am addicted to change now.

I think mostly I do it for my stories. If anything else, I just want the information, the answers, in my hand – and quick! It serves some self purpose to be like “ah-hah, I’m so glad this worked out (or didn’t) because now ‘this’ has happened and ‘this’ wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

But the thoughts inside my mind tells me I shouldn’t do this or that or even question it. I am my own contradiction. I may seem to say one thing but mean another. I never even know about me sometimes.

I am such a complicated person that no one, including me, will ever figure out. The end.

Your friend, 
Karen-Maeby

" Ever since I was a little girl and could barely talk, the word 'why' has lived and grown along with me. It's a well-known fact that children ask questions about anything and everything, since almost everything is new to them. That is especially true of me, and not just as a child. Even when I was older, I couldn't stop asking questions. 
I have to admit that it can be annoying sometimes, but I comfort myself with the thought that "You won't know until you ask," though by now I've asked so much that they ought to have made me a professor. 
When I got older, I noticed that not all questions can be asked and that many whys can never be answered. As a result, I tried to work things out for myself by mulling over my own questions. And I came to the important discovery that questions which you either can't or shouldn't ask in public, or questions which you can't put into words, can easily be solved in your own head. So the word 'why' not only taught me to ask, but also to think. And thinking has never hurt anyone. On the contrary, it does us all a world of good." 
— Anne Frank (Anne Frank's Tales from the Secret Annex)