Write Like Nobody’s Watching

The first time I tried expressive writing, I caught myself crafting clever sentences and editing my feelings into more socially acceptable versions – as if my journal might suddenly appear on The New York Times bestseller list.

The moment you start thinking about someone else reading your words, your writing transforms from an emotional release into a performance.

Here's the thing about performing on paper — you can't be both the dancer and the audience. When you write with others in mind, you automatically slip into editor mode. You start softening the harsh truths, rounding the sharp edges of your emotions, and carefully selecting which parts of your story deserve the spotlight. It's like trying to have a heart-to-heart conversation while simultaneously planning how to tell the story at a dinner party later.

Would you write about your deepest insecurities about your marriage if you thought your spouse might stumble across your journal? Would you pour out your raw feelings about your boss if there was even a tiny chance they'd see it? I once found myself writing "slightly frustrated" instead of "absolutely furious" just because I imagined someone might judge my anger. That's not healing – that's public relations.

The real magic happens when you write like you're whispering secrets into a paper shredder. When you know these words are for your eyes only, you can finally be brutally, uncomfortably honest. You can admit the things you've never said out loud. You can be petty, irrational, or completely contradictory. Because guess what? Healing isn't about being presentable – it's about being real.

So here's my challenge to you: Write something today that you would never, ever want anyone else to read. Then delete it, burn it, or bury it in your backyard. The power isn't in preserving the words – it's in finally letting them out.