Ever wonder why you feel so much better after writing or talking about something that’s been bringing you down?
Allow me to introduce Jen The Therapist. (#notaqualifiedtherapist).
My scholarly take:
Once you get your doubts onto paper (or spill it all to a friend) you realize how silly they sound.
Then they stop showing up. They lose their power.
Example:
When I’m plagued by self-doubt, I pull out my black-and-white Dollar Store composition notebook and scribble down all my random insecurities.
You know, like what if no one cares about what I write? Or reads it?
I vent all my twisted feelings about writing too slowly and being careless about grammar—whatever the head trash is that morning. Then, the fisherman's knot of crusty, fraying rope in my stomach loosens a smidge, and I can focus on work.
Turns out there’s almost thirty years of scientific study to back up my real-life experience. (Wish I had found this group of social scientists during my tumultuous twenties.)
In his book, Opening Up by Writing it Down, James Pennebaker describes a style, called expressive writing, as,
“A brief writing technique that helps people understand and deal with emotional upheavals in their lives. It’s a little like self-help therapy without the outlandish claims. And its greatest appeal is that it’s a method with strong scientific evidence behind it.”
It’s the cheapest form of therapy available today. (And who doesn’t love cheap therapy?)
As I pored over the research, one study struck me in particular.
A group of fifty senior engineers, recently laid off by a computer company (all over 50 years old), agreed to take part in a writing study.
The goal was to see if it would help them find new work. (By all accounts, they were a rather embittered and hostile lot after losing their jobs.)
The study divided them into three groups. One group wrote for 30 minutes a day for five consecutive days about their feelings about the humiliating episodes of being let go by management.
The second group did the same about how they were spending their time while not working.
And the third served as a comparison group, so they didn’t write at all.
Seven months later, 53% of the group who wrote about their thoughts and feelings had new jobs. Only 18% of the engineers in the other two study groups had landed something new.
Get this - the participants in all three groups went on the same number of interviews.
What made the difference?
EXPRESSION.
The group that could voice and explore their anger and humiliation was also able to put it aside and interview more confidently, coming across as more promising candidates.
Moral of the story?
Confronting difficult feelings about upsetting situations helps shift your attitude. And shifting your attitude means you're able to be more positive and move forward confidently.
Good news: you don’t have to think of yourself as a writer for this kind of self-expression to work its magic on you.
When I’m struggling with any (or all) of these things my freewriting practice helps me untangle my feelings, clear my head, and take a step in a more positive direction. (Even if it’s a baby step.)
So even though a “Scribbling Circle” sounds cute, it’s a powerful and restorative practice.
And there’s one coming up on Saturday, May 25th, at 5:30 p.m. CT. Hit reply and let me know if you want to try it.
Bring your self-doubt and insecurities. Research shows that when you show up on the page, you’re showing up for yourself—and that’s how you get stronger.
Keep writing,
Jen
P.S. When I’m back from Morocco I’ve got a few openings for a free chat to talk about Setting Up Your Substack. So shoot me an email if you’re ready to hit publish on a newsletter you’re proud of.
P.P.S. Our next Austin Writers Meetup is May 21st. If you’re in the area, come join us at OPA Cafe. You can RSVP here.
Every writer I know dances with self doubt on the regular. As a life-long journaler (who has often used this exact technique without knowing it was an actual technique), I can attest to the efficacy of this practice. Plus - super cathartic.