Adrian Acevedo, MHC

If you are in individual therapy or have had any exposure to the self-care and wellness movements/trends, you have likely been recommended a journaling routine. Perhaps a specific set of prompts, a style, an everyday challenge, or a special notebook that promises to make your practice natural, consistent, and energizing. You have been told that you need to start keeping a journal, that it will change your life.

I always thought I wasn’t a “journal person,” even as I encouraged clients to integrate it into their routine, and heard friends extol the mental and emotional benefits of their own journaling practice. I just didn’t buy it as something I could do for myself and actually enjoy. Don’t get me wrong—I have “tried” to start many journals over the years. And by this, I mean I have followed journaling Pinterest accounts and collected many small to medium-sized notebooks of varying styles and colors, certain that the *perfect* journal might inspire me to be “that kind of person.” I remember buying special multicolored pens during the bullet journaling craze and liking Instagram posts of the perfect aesthetically pleasing journal setups (complete with golden hour lighting and impossibly beautiful decor, you know the ones). Each time journaling practice crossed my mind, I reasoned that it was great for other people but not for me. I wasn’t disciplined enough, put together enough, productive enough. The empty notebooks stacked up as my good intentions and self-improvement plans were met with resistance and avoidance.

Several months ago, I experienced a personal realization that surprised and emotionally overwhelmed me. I found myself distracted and tearful, struggling to regain emotional control and focus on my responsibilities. What surprised me almost as much was that at the end of that day, I opened a journal and wrote in it for the first time in a long time (we’re talking several years, reader). After putting pen to paper and filling a couple of pages that night, I felt productive and present with my emotions in a way I hadn’t believed was possible for me. I shared my experience (and my shock) with my therapist the following week, and she helped me consider what might have changed for me. What had been holding me back from something I actually wanted to try and knew I might benefit from? I concluded that my ever-present skepticism (“Could this possibly help me?”) and perfectionism (“I have to do it *just right*”) were at the root of my resistance.

Journaling for Skeptics and Perfectionists

If you, too, are interested in experiencing the benefits of journaling, but see your own skepticism and perfectionism getting in the way, consider the following:

• How is skepticism getting in the way of integrating new practices into my life? When have I felt let down by my own expectations of an experience or a habit? How has skepticism been protecting me from feelings of failure, but also limiting my openness to new activities and experiences?

• How is perfectionism getting in the way of integrating new practices into my life? Where do my standards of perfection come from in this area specifically? What or who am I comparing my experience to?

• What are my central expectations and goals? Are they realistic and feasible for me at this time? Consider what you want from your journaling practice. Are routine and frequency especially important to you, or do you envision journaling as an “as-needed” tool for processing and expression?

• What other tools, activities, and rituals do I already engage in that help me manage my emotions and ruminations? How can this take some pressure off my journaling (or any new practices I might try out) to be my most effective (or most “perfect”) self-care activity?

Embracing Flexibility, Freedom, and Fun

Unpacking perfectionism and skepticism takes time and practice, but doing so can open you up to the benefits of journaling, and any other self-care practice. Establishing new habits can be overwhelming, especially if you have an all-or-nothing approach. To combat perfectionistic tendencies in your approach, work on building mastery instead. Building Mastery is a Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) skill intended to build self-esteem and confidence through participating in activities that make you feel competent and capable. Setting realistic and attainable expectations for your practice allows you to build a sense of accomplishment in this area, and approach each experience as valuable in and of itself. 

Since I began journaling this year, my entries have been several days (or more often weeks) apart. I do not view this as a shortcoming at this point. I am able to find some satisfaction and purpose in each individual entry, whether I am struggling to decompress on the subway, jotting down a few lines in bed, or writing in a pleasurable setting accompanied by my favorite coffee or pastry. My approach to growing in my journaling practice is connected with my desire to live more mindfully. How can journaling help meet my needs in the here and now? 

Being present at the moment and engaged in your emotions is a valuable skill that will allow you to better attune to your processing needs as life ebbs and flows. Remember, your journaling practice is for you—it can change as your needs change, and it doesn’t need to feel forced or regimented. If strict routines feel stifling and are likely to lead to avoidance, do not try and force one. Instead of journaling every morning/night at a specific time, consider journaling when you feel a particular emotion strongly, or when you are reflecting on a difficult experience. You might not feel the need to journal daily. An entry can be pages or a few concise sentences. It can be a single question. It is possible and in many ways beneficial to let your practice follow your life, rather than shaping your life around your practice. As you consider trying to journal for the first time (or after many false starts), embrace the opportunity to embrace flexibility, freedom, and fun in your practice.