Anne Frank and her sister and Margot formed a closer relationship than had existed before they went into hiding, although Anne sometimes expressed jealousy towards Margot, particularly when members of the household criticised Anne for lacking Margot’s gentle and placid nature.

As Anne began to mature, the sisters were able to confide in each other. In her entry of January 12, 1944, Anne wrote, “Margot’s much nicer… She’s not nearly so catty these days and is becoming a real friend. She no longer thinks of me as a little baby who doesn’t count.”

Anne frequently wrote of her difficult relationship with her mother, and of her ambivalence towards her. On November 7, 1942 she described her “contempt” for her mother and her inability to “confront her with her carelessness, her sarcasm and her hard-heartedness,” before concluding, “She’s not a mother to me.”

Later, as she revised her diary, Anne felt ashamed of her harsh attitude, writing: “Anne is it really you who mentioned hate, oh Anne, how could you?”

She came to understand that their differences resulted from misunderstandings that were as much her fault as her mother’s, and saw that she had added unnecessarily to her mother’s suffering. With this realisation, Anne began to treat her mother with a degree of tolerance and respect.

Margot and Anne hoped to return to school soon and continued with their studies while in hiding. Margot took a shorthand course by correspondence in Bep Voskuijl’s name and received high marks.

Most of Anne’s time was spent reading and studying, and she regularly wrote and edited her diary entries. In addition to providing a narrative of events as they occurred, she wrote about her feelings, beliefs and ambitions, subjects she felt she could not discuss with anyone. As her confidence in her writing grew, and as she began to mature, she wrote of more abstract subjects such as her belief in God, and how she defined human nature.

Anne aspired to become a journalist, writing in her diary on April 5, 1944: “ I finally realised that I must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that’s what I want! I know I can write …, but it remains to be seen whether I really have talent … And if I don’t have the talent to write books or newspaper articles, I can always write for myself. But I want to achieve more than that. I can’t imagine living like Mother, Mrs van Daan and all the women who go about their work and are then forgotten. I need to have something besides a husband and children to devote myself to! … I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I’ve never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that’s why I’m so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that’s inside me! When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that’s a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?”

She continued writing regularly till her final entry of on August 1, 1944.