Journaling and I have the same relationship I have with exercise bikes—I buy them with enthusiasm, use them twice, then they become expensive guilt monuments.
My closet contains at least 23 beautiful journals. Leather-bound ones. Inspirational quote ones. That gorgeous one from Barnes & Noble that was definitely going to change my life. Most have three entries:
Day 1: “Today I start my journaling journey! This will transform everything!”
Day 2: “Tired. Nothing to say.”
Day 3: [Blank forever]
The guilt from those empty pages is real. Each pristine journal judges me from the shelf, whispering about my lack of discipline, my failed commitments, my inability to maintain the simplest practice.
The Breakthrough That Wasn’t
Last year, determined to finally crack the code, I bought another journal. This one had prompts. “What are you grateful for?” “What intention do you set today?” “How did you grow?”
By day four, my answers were:
“Coffee”
“Survive”
“I didn’t”
The prompts felt like homework. Like I was failing a test I didn’t sign up for. Like even my journal was disappointed in me.
What Actually Works (And It’s So Simple I’m Embarrassed)
Here’s what finally clicked: I don’t journal. I jot.
Every night, if my intention for the day was to be “brave,” I write one line about how I showed up brave. That’s it. One line.
“Asked for the raise even though my voice shook.”
“Wore the red lipstick.”
“Said no to babysitting the anxious dog.”
Not pages of deep reflection. Not profound insights. Just evidence that I showed up.
The Other Things That Count as Journaling
Once I stopped trying to be Elizabeth Gilbert, I realized I actually “journal” constantly:
Voice Memos to Myself
Driving home from a crazy day, I’ll record a voice memo ranting about what happened. It’s basically audio journaling, except with more f-bombs and traffic noise.
Texts to My Best Friend
Our text thread is essentially my journal. “OMG you won’t believe what just happened…” Those messages capture my life more honestly than any journal ever could.
Sticky Notes Everywhere
My desk is covered in sticky notes with random thoughts, reminders, mini-epiphanies. It looks like chaos, but it’s actually my external brain.
Instagram Stories Nobody Sees
I create stories and never post them. Just for me. Pictures of moments with captions about how I’m feeling. Digital journaling for the commitment-phobic.
The Science That Made Me Feel Better
Research shows any form of self-expression helps process emotions and reduce stress. Doesn’t have to be a journal. Could be:
- Doodling
- Voice recordings
- Photos with notes
- Lists
- Text messages to yourself
- Even tweets you never send
Suddenly, I realized I’ve been “journaling” all along. Just not in leather-bound books with perfect penmanship.
My Current “Journaling” Practice (The Honest Version)
Morning: Coffee in hand, I write my intention for the day on a sticky note. One word. “Patient.” “Creative.” “Caffeinated.”
Throughout the day: Voice memos when something strikes me. Texts to friends. Photos of moments that matter.
Evening: One line about how I lived my intention. Or didn’t. Both count.
Weekly: I look at my sticky notes and voice memos. Sometimes patterns emerge. Sometimes it’s just chaos. Both are data.
Why Traditional Journaling Feels Like Torture After 50
At 61, I don’t need to “find myself.” I know who I am. I don’t need to process every feeling—some days, I just need to survive them. And I definitely don’t need another thing on my to-do list that makes me feel guilty.
What I need is evidence that I’m showing up. Proof that I’m trying. Breadcrumbs to remember the good moments when the bad ones feel overwhelming.
Permission to Journal Wrong
You don’t need a beautiful journal. You don’t need consistency. You don’t need profound insights or perfect grammar or deep reflection.
You can:
- Write one word a day
- Use your phone’s notes app
- Voice record while walking
- Take photos instead of writing
- Text yourself
- Use sticky notes
- Write on napkins
- Skip days (or months)
- Start and stop 47 times
The Plot Twist About Self-Discovery
Those 23 unused journals taught me something important: I’m not a journal person. And that’s self-discovery too.
I’m a sticky note person. A voice memo person. A “text my friend at 2 AM” person. A “one line before bed” person.
That’s my journaling practice. Messy, inconsistent, and nothing like the Instagram-worthy bullet journals. But it’s real. It’s mine. And it actually happens.
Your Turn to Journal Wrong
Stop trying to journal “right.” Start capturing your life in whatever way actually works. Even if that means:
- Writing on your phone while on the toilet
- Recording voice memos in traffic
- Texting yourself random thoughts
- Taking photos with one-word captions
- Writing on sticky notes and losing them
It all counts. It’s all journaling. It’s all self-discovery.
Even if your journal is actually 47 unused journals judging you from the closet while you write on sticky notes and lose them immediately.
That’s data too. The data is: you’re human. And that’s worth documenting, however messily you do it.
