does my diary think i'm cool??????
why i can't journal.
Have you ever opened to a fresh page in your journal, wondering if it’s even worth writing what you wanted to write about? Does the imaginary critique that is your journal make you feel uncool?
The other day, I was watching Dakota Warren’s newest vlog. I adore her lifestyle and the way she talks about literature. Her life as an author in London is so different from my life as a student in Istanbul, that I can’t help but envy her life. One thing I envy the most about her is her dedication to keeping a journal—a written account of all her dreams, thoughts, and feelings.
In her vlog, Dakota mentions finishing her current journal and entering another phase of her life by starting a new journal. In every video I watch of hers, there’s always a montage of her writing in her journal in her studio apartment or elsewhere with a warm yellowish hue to the shots and a well-curated aesthetic camera setup. Yes, I know there’s a side of her online presence that’s deliberate and marketable, and that not all her days are as glorious as the ones on the internet. But I also know that nothing about her craft and devotion to her writing is performative.
A little more than a year ago, my dad brought me a gorgeous journal from China. The cover is red with beautiful illustrations and gold accents. The journal came with a pen, and the ink was smooth like butter. When I was gifted this journal I was very excited. I wanted to fill it with my thoughts and spill my inner world onto its pages. But when I opened to the first page, I was so scared to jot anything down that I shut it close and stashed it on my shelf. Months later, after breaking up with my first love, I finally turned to it again.
This time, pen in hand, I started writing about the multitudes my emotions held, and the disgust I felt over getting cheated on. On the pages of this little red journal, adorned with drawings and Chinese characters, I tried to figure out what went wrong. I couldn’t find the answers I was looking for, and it felt awful to affirm that things had gone poorly. Instead of feeling good that I’d let my emotions out, I felt embarrassed. There was someone—or something—who knew of that third person. I’d suffered, people knew of my suffering, and now there was concrete evidence of my suffering in my own words. My handwriting looked illegible, making me feel worse. I stashed my journal back on the shelf, never to look at it again—well, that was a lie. I still attempt to write sometimes, but I mostly feel shame breathing down my neck.
There’s something extremely terrifying about knowing too much about yourself. We assume we know who we are until we sit down with a pen and paper and start journaling. Rationalizing half the things I’ve done on paper makes me like myself less, and I’m sure my journal agrees. I can’t help but feel like my journal is an autonomous being, and remains silent while I write because it thinks I’m spewing utter bullshit.
Getting to know myself through journaling has become my personal hell.
If you’ve seen my first post, you know how much I despise adopting a new identity for validation. But while I write in my journal, I feel I need to impress this imaginary critic to earn the right to journal. I watch girls like Dakota Warren and Eva Meloche (love them endlessly) on YouTube turn journaling into a cool girl activity. Dakota, with her gorgeous prose and beautifully decorated apartment, spends time journaling while sipping tea. She writes about her craft, scribbles poems, and jots down her dreams after waking up. Eva finds tranquility in her ever-moving life as a form of self-care. Even her messiest updos look amazing, and I bet her handwriting is pretty too. In my mind, the contents of their journals are sacred, intelligent, and fulfilling.
And then there’s me, feeling stupid as I write: “He saw me giggle and jump when I saw a penguin and smiled, oh, shoot me with a gun RIGHT NOW!!!!!” I bet my journal glared at me and sighed as I wrote this sentence. She would’ve wanted me to get over it by working with her. But really, do shoot me with a gun for the way I felt. I saw that very guy’s story today and thought: “I can’t unfollow him what if we get married?” My journal would not approve of me saying that. See, I’m a loser, and my journal hates me.
Everything I’ve ever produced was for an audience. My photography is for my teachers and installations for the school. If not, it’s for whoever I’ve shared it with. All my writings have been for my teachers to judge, tear through, and grade. I’ve always been a “pleasure to teach;” one of my biggest talents is befriending English teachers. I’ve learned to write for them, my teachers, and await their approval.
It’s ingrained in my brain that my words are for an audience, not relics of my thoughts. I think breaking that mold is the only way I can journal. Otherwise, I’ll use the same journal forever, thinking about its opinion well into my twenties.
Now, I’m using Substack as a transitionary space. I know people read my stuff, but it’s also not why I’m publishing here. I have an audience, but the audience is not why I started writing. This platform is the love child of my safe space (English assignments) and nightmares (journals). Who knows, maybe one day I’ll journal like all those cool girls I see. I’ll let you know for sure.
It's funny when I saw this video of Dakota, I immediately thought the same thing.
I went straight for my diary and wrote frantically.
i have always kept a diary. i used to only write the good things so i could pretend to myself things were better. sometimes i can’t bear to relive a bad night so i just don’t, but generally i try and be entirely truthful when i write in it now - it can be deep and meaningful, or a ridiculous conversation i had with some guy on hinge. just enjoy documenting your life and getting thoughts out of your head. you can write to the diary like it is a friend or it is just an extension of yourself, i do both depending on my mood. like “hey diary”, or “hey holly”. so from a fellow girl who was a ‘pleasure to teach’, just have fun with it (it’s not for anyone but you). that’s the coolest thing you can do <33