I threw most of it away. No, really. MOST of it. I filled a huge black, drawstring garbage bag full of stuff and put it out to the trash.
I don't need to keep notes from school.
I don't need to keep the birthday cards signed by distant relatives for my 9th birthday.
I don't need ticket stubs. I don't.
According to my eight year old self, I wanted to live on the beach next to a jungle with lots of animals in it. I wanted to swim with dolphins daily.
I used to write poems--POEMS--about love, flowers, the wind and trees when I was eleven.
I read, voraciously, weird books like the Bronte sisters books, classics like Anne of Green Gables and Nancy Drew. I kept lists of all the books I have ever read.
I was a driven, self-confident, attention-seeking, creative little human.
I found out that I liked to set goals for myself a lot, especially long-term ones. I probably found 3 or 4 lists that were supposed to be what/where I wanted to be in the future, including a time capsule one I wrote in September, 2000. I opened it today, five months late. Just an FYI on that: I have studied abroad, I have been to Italy, I have served a mission, I have learned another language, I have graduated college. I have not gotten married and I do not have three kids.
(REALLY??? THREE??? When did my past self think I would find the time to do all that and still somehow have three babies by age 24???)