4 Months of Journaling

Grateful to be in November, but how did we get here already?!

November marks four months since I started journaling. I began on my birthday with the intent of logging 365 entries. I’ve missed a few days, a few weeks here and there, lol, but WE OUT HERE.

I’ve always found journaling super offputting. I was never able to get into it. I was embarrassed by the intimacy of what I had to say. More embarrassed by the thought of someone reading it.

This year I decided, “Who cares.” Who cares if someone finds this shit. (I still care, btw.) Who cares that I’m spilling my guts on paper and have to sit with the reality of how I feel? (My inner child is hashtag cringing.)

I deserve remembrance. I deserve to remember how I’ve felt; what I wore on some odd day; what I accomplished, or didn’t; who impacted me.

It’s been awkward. At times embarrassing. But the more I write….the more I allow myself to go there, the more free and safe I feel. I’d like to think it’s also helped me strengthen my relationship with self. I trust myself more. I listen to and hear myself more. I feel my breath more.

Shout out to journaling for being part of my healing process. For rooting me in gratitude, acceptance, rawness, honesty, accountability, introspection.

Shout out to my journal, which hasn’t heard from me in 17 days. You’re a bland, spiral notebook that has done more for me than any of the aesthetic, overpriced shit I’ve bought in years past and never used. We out here.