This might seem like a weird thing to say on a scrapbooking group, but I'm starting to think that I don't really care about my past that much. I first got into this hobby when I did a book for my sister, because I knew that she cared about her history. But what keeps me going, really, is the art of it, not the history and the memories. When I'm looking at old pictures, I don't feel much more emotion than if I were looking at pictures of someone else. I notice the lighting, the composition of the photo, whether it was in focus, all the technical stuff first. Whereas my dad and my sister will be all "Oh, I remember this! That was when blah blah blah happened and etc." And, like, even though I was _there_ I still don't remember.
This is how bad my memory is: about 10 years ago, a friend of my sister's lived with us for about 6 months, and I have no recollection of this at all. I don't remember my first kiss, my first day of school, any of the names of my teachers from elementary school or high school. I can't remember learning to swim, ride a bike, or use a sewing machine. And the sewing one is weird, because that couldn't have been when I was really little, you know?
So, when I scrap old photos, it only brings back the vaguest of memories. When other people reminisce about their childhoods, and they look so happy and comforted, I feel like I'm missing out on something, some important part of life. But then I feel like there's just so much going on now, and the past is gone, and I'm not even that person anymore, and if it had been important I would have remembered right?