I had about 20 journals I kept from when I was a teen. I grew up, pretty terribly with severe abuse, and the memories in them were my traumas. I kept them though. Toted them along with me for a long time.
In my early 30s I went through it, and got rid of some of the darkest stuff, but kept some. The remainder went up in a fire about 4 years ago. I was sad, but it was time to let go. Felt good to ditch the bin full of trauma. I felt like I've mostly healed
Today I can easily sum up youth in a paragraph, and I'm okay with that.