I came to journalling later than most people who write about it. I was well into my 30s.
I did not start as a teenager with a diary. I did not have a long-established practice that I refined over the years. I discovered the real value of journalling during my counselling training — and honestly, that surprised me.
It started as a requirement. Part of the training process involves a significant amount of self-reflection— looking at your own patterns, your reactions, the things you bring into the room with you. Writing became the tool I used to do that. Not because anyone told me it would be transformative. Just because I needed somewhere to put things while I was working through them.
What I found was that the act of writing something down changed my relationship with it.
Thoughts that had been circling in my head — sometimes for days — became something different once they were on a page. More examinable. Less overwhelming. The page gave me distance from my own inner world in a way that thinking alone never quite managed. I could look at something written down and respond to it, rather than just being inside it.
That, in my experience, is what journalling actually does. Not what the wellness industry says it does. Not the Instagram version of a beautiful notebook and a perfect morning routine. The real, unglamorous, occasionally uncomfortable version — where you sit down and write something honest and it shows you something about yourself you had not quite seen before.
I want to be clear that this is my personal experience, shaped by a very specific context — counselling training involves a level of self-examination that most people do not go through in their daily lives. What journalling means to someone in that context may be different to what it means for someone picking up a pen for the first time on a Tuesday evening. I am not suggesting it will do the same thing for everyone.
But the research is interesting, for what it is worth. Psychologist James Pennebaker and his colleagues have studied expressive writing since the 1980s. This usually involves writing about emotionally significant or stressful experiences during a series of structured sessions, which is more specific than simply keeping a journal.
Some studies and reviews have reported small benefits for particular people and outcomes, while other reviews have found little or no overall effect. So the slightly annoying but honest answer is that expressive writing may be helpful for some people, but it is not guaranteed to improve everybody’s psychological or physical health.
If you are thinking about starting and do not know where to begin — here is what I would offer, not as advice but as things that have worked for me personally:
Write without an audience in mind. The moment I stopped trying to write something coherent and started just writing what was actually there, it became useful. Nobody is marking this. Nobody is reading it. It does not need to make sense to anyone but you.
Start with what is already present. Not what you think you should be writing about. What is actually on your mind right now, in this moment. Even if it is mundane. Even if it is just — I am tired and I don't really want to be doing this. Start there.
Give yourself permission to be repetitive. You might write about the same thing for three weeks. That is fine. Sometimes we need to write around something many times before we write through it.
I want to be clear — journalling is not a substitute for professional support. If you are struggling with your mental health please speak to your GP or a qualified counsellor. It is a tool, not a treatment.
What it can be, in my experience, is a space that is entirely yours. One that asks nothing of you except honesty. And that, I have found, is rarer and more valuable than it sounds.
If you would like somewhere to put your own thoughts, Just a Thought—A 500-page Journal is available in paperback and hardback through Amazon. It is simply a large amount of space to use however you choose—for reflection, everyday notes, ideas, recipes or anything else that needs somewhere to go.
Details of future creative-writing sessions will be added to The Workshop Corner when they become available.
This blog reflects my personal experience and views. It is not clinical advice, and journalling is not a substitute for professional mental-health support.
If you are struggling with your mental health, please speak to your GP or an appropriately qualified professional. Samaritans can be contacted free at any time on 116 123, and people in the UK can text SHOUT to 85258. If you or somebody else is in immediate danger, call 999 or go to A&E.
