How to start writing a journal to build a loving relationship with yourself

If you’re looking for a way to build resilience, productivity, and self-trust (or just put that expensive, raw-cut, leather-bound notebook to use), stick around!

Steph Raycroft
6 min readApr 30, 2024
A faceless person sits at a cafe table with a pot of tea, opening a journal to write.
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Unsplash

One of the coolest things about Medium is that we’re all writers — even the lurker types. I see you!

But do we use this powerful tool effectively?

If you take stock of all of the things you write about in a day or a week, do you feel like you use this tool to its fullest potential? Do you feel like it does much for your overall well-being? Do you feel like you’re leveraging this skill as well as you could be?

And if it’s true that the average white-collar worker writes 40,000 words a year, do you think they’re doing it any better than we are?

I’d say probably not.

Writing can be a cathartic experience. But few of us (me included sometimes) are brave enough to bare our souls the way that we’d need to in order to really feel the benefits.

So how do we start?

By cracking open that blank journal you bought at the paper store because it was just so pretty that you couldn’t imagine walking out without it. You know the one.

It probably has some gorgeous hand-painted art on the cover.

The paper is probably recycled.

It was the one you bought over the soundtrack of, “If I buy this, I actually need to use it this time.”

The one that if your life had that gravelly-toned voiceover guy narrating, it would say, “She never did actually use it.”

And you know what? I’m going to help you break the pattern of buying pretty stationery to collect dust on your desk.

Journaling is the most powerful strategy you (probably) aren’t tapping into.

It’s the closest thing we have to a silver bullet. Like, okay, it’s not going to magically transform your life on its own.

And there are definitely ways to become overly self-aware to the point of making yourself the center of the universe.

But if you use it well, it can be an incredibly powerful tool for helping you more easily articulate your feelings, figure out what to do in a tricky situation, and even improve your quality of life.

And using it effectively is simpler than you think: when we write about our thought processes in relation to our emotions, the research suggests that we can develop a greater awareness of the positives after a traumatic event.

Journaling highlights the lesson in the hardship.

When we become aware of the lessons packaged as hard knocks, we can better protect ourselves next time. Remember that time I told you your anxiety can be your superpower?

Like a new commuter lane on the highway, journaling can be the quickest and most efficient route straight to that kind of self-awareness!

When you add gratitude, the impact becomes even more powerful. In fact, gratitude journaling has been shown to help reduce inflammation over time and increase your body’s parasympathetic responses.

You know, responses like slowing down your heart rate, improving digestion, increasing sexual arousal.

So by now, you’re probably thinking, “Whoa! A reliable way to stay calm, regular, and horny?! Sign me up!”

Say. Less.

Here’s how I journal:

First, I write about how I’m feeling. Sometimes, I start with “I feel.” But most of the time, I just word-vomit about how I feel and what my body is doing when I feel it.

It’s not enough to say, “I’m feeling anxious.” Because that’s not the be-all or the end-all. What does anxiety feel like in your body?

For me, anxiety is characterized by three things:

  1. I grind my teeth until I have a headache, and then I struggle to stop because my head is hurting.
  2. My chest tightens up, making it hard to breathe. Sometimes it even makes my back and shoulders hunch over, so I resemble a sweating, panicky hunchback.
  3. My stomach starts to feel upset (does anyone else get the panic pees/ poos?), and it makes it hard to eat or drink anything or feel the urge to do either of those.

And I only know that because I picked up on this pattern of bodily functions through journaling about them.

So instead of, “I feel anxious today,” I might say,

“I am feeling super anxious about work this morning. I can tell because I’ve been grinding my teeth all night in my sleep. My head and jaw are pounding. My chest feels really tight, and I feel like I’m not breathing properly. And as if that wasn’t enough, I can’t stop peeing even though I haven’t had anything to drink yet.”

Once I have a clear idea about how I’m feeling, I start to unpack my thinking. Here’s what I’m usually thinking when I’m anxious:

  • Everyone hates me/ is mad at me.
  • I’m broken/ wrong/ stupid/ dramatic.
  • I’m wasting my life and should be doing x, y, or z because all of those would be more productive.

In journal format, this might look something like this:

“I feel like I should be looking harder for professional development to fit into my new role. My new boss probably hates me for taking so long to adjust, and my new teammates are probably mad at me for being trash at this and asking so many questions. I feel so anxious because I feel like I’m constantly doing a bad job and holding everyone up.”

Then, and only then, am I ready for the next part:

THE TRUTH.

What’s actually happening? Are my anxious thoughts and feelings true? If not, what is the truth? What evidence do I have of that truth?

Maybe I need some evidence that no one is actually mad at me, or I need it pointed out that there is no evidence that someone is mad.

Maybe I need to be reminded that I am my own person, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

Maybe I need to be told for the millionth time that time itself is a construct, so any feeling of running out or wasting it is false.

It usually goes something like this:

“The truth is, I’ve only just started in this new role. Everything is new. And when we learn new things, we are all trash at it at first. We all need to ask questions to learn and get better. No one thinks I’m bad at my job, and if they did, it would be their responsibility to tell me. I’m doing the very best that I can, and I know I’m going to keep doing my best. Maybe I should ask my new boss if they have professional development recommendations to shortcut this learning curve.”

And finally, I make a list of loving things I can do for myself to feel better:

  • Go for a walk
  • Meditate
  • Do some yoga/ light stretching
  • Dance it out
  • Distract myself until the feeling goes away
  • Have a snack
  • Drink some water
  • Nap about it
  • Talk it out
  • People watch out my living room window

It works for me, so maybe it will work for you.

There’s a lot of journaling advice out there. And I’ll be honest: My approach is an amalgamation of every single Pinterest pin that I have come across on the self-care side of that platform.

But it’s because this works for me that I’m so confident it’ll work for you.

When I journal in this way, I notice so much more empathy for myself and others. I compassionately, gently, and lovingly unpack a difficult situation to highlight the truth based on the evidence I have.

And sometimes, that’s all I need to feel better.

What’s your journaling style? Do you avoid journaling at all costs? What do you do to reflect instead? This inquiring mind would love to know!

Can’t get enough of me writing about stuff I find exciting? I have a weekly newsletter on Substack where I dive deep into whatever has caught my attention each week. I can’t wait to see you there!

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Steph Raycroft

Writer exploring good books, knitting, gaming, cooking, mental health. Decidedly anti-hustle. Let's connect and share the love! 🌟