The year was 2012. I turned the ripe age of 8 years old on January 2nd, and I was gifted a pink, sparkly diary – complete with a matching pen and a lock in the shape of a heart. I was overjoyed. I wrote in my new diary that very day, and still feel the strongest pang of nostalgia when I occasionally reread it (despite it being barely legible).Â
This marked the beginning of my 13-year-long relationship with journaling. It has not always been strong and consistent – there have been periods when I went months, or even years, without picking up a journal. But I am proud to say that I have filled up two, going on three journals, and that I am currently at a place in my life that involves consistent journaling.Â
One of my favorite things to do when I’m bored or feeling sentimental is to flip through my old journal entries and be transported back in time. Whether it’s reading how I felt on my 14th birthday, what I was doing all day during the COVID quarantine, reflecting on my high school prom and graduation, my nerves on my first day of classes at Holy Cross, or my excitement on the flight to Paris for my Maymester, the remembrance never fails to bring a smile to my face.Â
As young adults, we are at a point in our lives full of constant and continuous change. I know someday, I will be glad that I am documenting my world for myself and my loved ones. Additionally, it is an extremely healthy habit. To be able to unload your emotions–the good, the bad, the ugly–and not have to explain yourself to someone or expect a response from someone is a unique and therapeutic experience. Journaling has truly impacted my life for the better, and I think it is something that everybody can benefit from.