I don’t think we are always the most reliable narrators of our own lives. We become deeply attached to certain explanations of who we are, why we do what we do, and how we came to be the people we are today. Over time, these explanations become more than stories. We begin to treat them as facts rather than interpretations, rarely stopping to question whether they are entirely true or simply the versions of ourselves we have grown most comfortable believing.

The stories we tell ourselves are not necessarily lies. They may be sincere attempts to understand complicated experiences with the limited perspective we had at the time. But sincerity does not guarantee accuracy, and familiarity does not make a story true. We can be honest about what we remember and still misunderstand what happened. We can believe we are acting out of kindness when fear is driving us, mistake self-protection for independence, or interpret our reluctance to change as evidence that we simply know ourselves well.

This is why I think journaling can help us understand ourselves a little better. When we look back at what we’ve written, we often begin to notice patterns and repetitions in our thoughts, feelings, reactions, and experiences. Sometimes, we find ourselves writing about the same struggles, fears, hopes, or questions without even realizing how often they come up. Those repetitions can reveal something meaningful about who we are, what matters to us, and what we may still be trying to understand or work through.

I also think the less we plan or filter what goes into our journals, the more honest our writing tends to become. When we stop worrying about how our thoughts sound or whether they make sense to anyone else, we permit ourselves to be more authentic. We can write what we really feel, even when those feelings are uncomfortable, contradictory, or difficult to explain. There’s something powerful about allowing our thoughts to exist on the page without immediately judging or correcting them.

I was just thinking about journaling and how, at its heart, it should be more about who we are than what we think others want to see. Lately, I’ve caught myself feeling like I need to make my journal more exciting, as though my everyday life needs to be filled with interesting experiences, big moments, or something extraordinary to be worth writing about. I think part of that comes from knowing that my journal is online and that other people have the opportunity to read it. Without even realizing it, I sometimes find myself thinking about how my words might come across to someone else rather than simply focusing on what I want to express.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that isn’t really me. That isn’t what journaling is supposed to be about, at least not for me.

Yes, I enjoy having things to write about. I enjoy reflecting on my experiences, sharing my thoughts, and finding meaning in the little things that happen throughout my days. But I don’t necessarily need my journal to be more exciting, dramatic, or attention-grabbing. My life doesn’t have to be extraordinary every day for my words to have value.

I think it’s easy to forget that a journal doesn’t have to be a performance. Like so many things shared online, journaling can sometimes become one. I don’t think I even know how to make my journal performative, and I think that’s a good thing. I don’t want it to become something I feel obligated to produce for an audience. I want it to remain a space where I can simply write for myself, without the pressure of being seen, understood, or validated by anyone else.

At the end of the day, this is my journal. It’s a place for my thoughts, my experiences, my reflections, and my perspective on the world around me. It doesn’t need to be more exciting than my life actually is, and it doesn’t need to compete for anyone’s attention.

I get asked sometimes how I can put my journal online. Doesn’t it make me leave things out? Am I afraid people will read it?

Here’s the thing: privacy has always been a big deal to me. So much so that it’s been questioned, and I’ve even been accused of doing things I shouldn’t simply because I value my privacy. For me, keeping such an open journal is partly a way of showing that I’m not doing anything I need to hide. But it’s also a way for me to open up and let people see a side of me they might not normally get to see. I tend to be a pretty private, closed-off person, and sharing my journal is one way of showing that I’m not quite as closed off as I might seem.

Does that mean I share absolutely everything? Of course not. I do leave out little details here and there about a day or a situation. Tommy has teased me about that before. But the things I leave out don’t change the story or add anything that would make a difference to what I’m sharing. And if I feel a story isn’t mine to tell, then I won’t tell it. Just because I’m willing to put myself out there doesn’t mean my friends and family have agreed to do the same.

I also keep a separate memory journal filled with things I don’t want to forget. I take an almost ridiculous number of pictures on my phone, too, because I want to hold on to the little moments and memories that make up my life.

As you can see, not much has happened today. I looked for jobs, updated some applications, and applied to a few more jobs. I’m still needing to put away the clothes from the laundry that Karissa did for me yesterday. I will probably do that at 4 and then start dinner after that.

So I should get off the computer and start doing some chores.