Anne Frank’s Last Diary Entry

Andfghne-Frank-row-REX70 years ago today, Anne Frank, a young Jewish girl, and her family were arrested in the “Secret Annex” of an old office building.  Her diary, which would be found several years later, has been an important part of our literary history–giving us a personal commentary on life in hiding during World War II.  It is a story of courage and frailty–with words that continue to inspire all of us to this day.  

On August 1, 1944, Anne wrote in her diary for the very last time.  Here is an excerpt:

I’m afraid that people who know me as I usually am will discover I have another side, a better and finer side.  I’m afraid they’ll mock me, think I’m ridiculous and sentimental and not take me seriously. I’m used to not being taken seriously, but only the “lighthearted” Anne is used to it and can put up with it;  the “deeper” Anne is too weak.  If I force the good Anne into the spotlight for even fifteen minutes, she shuts up like a clam the moment she’s called upon to speak, and lets Anne number one do the talking.  Before I realize it, she’s disappeared.

So the nice Anne is never seen in company.  She’s never made a single appearance, though she almost always takes the stage when I’m alone.   I know exactly how I’d like to be, how I am . . . on the inside.  But unfortunately I’m only like that with myself.  And perhaps that’s why – no, I’m sure that’s the reason why – I think of myself as happy on the inside and other people think I’m happy on the outside.  I’m guided by the pure Anne within, but on the outside I’m nothing but a frolicsome little goat tugging at its tether.

As I’ve told you, what I say is not what I feel, which is why I have a reputation for being a boy-chaser, a flirt, a smart aleck and a reader of romances.  The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she couldn’t care less.  The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way.

If I’m being completely honest, I’ll have to admit that it does matter to me, that I’m trying very hard to change myself, but that I’m always up against a more powerful enemy.  A voice within me is sobbing, “You see, that’s what’s become of you.  You’re surrounded by negative opinions, dismayed looks and mocking faces, people who dislike you, and all because you don’t listen to the advice of your own better half.” Believe me, I’d like to listen, but it doesn’t work, because if I’m quiet and serious, everyone thinks I’m putting on a new act and I have to save myself with a joke, and then I’m not even talking about my own family, who assume I must be ill, stuff me with aspirins and sedatives, feel my neck and forehead to see if I have a temperature, ask about my bowel movements and berate me for being in a bad mood, until I just can’t keep it up any more, because when everybody starts hovering over me, I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside out, the bad part on the outside and the good part on the inside, and keep trying to find a way to become what I’d like to be and what I could be if . . . if only there were no other people in the world.

Yours, Anne M. Frank ”

Click here to read the entire final diary entry.