Journaling: A Habit That Became a Lifeline

Journaling has been an inseparable part of my life for over 20 years—almost as natural as brushing my teeth or taking a bath. It’s more than just a habit; it has become an obsession. Every day, I capture my thoughts, emotions, and moments, pouring them into the pages of my diary like an old friend who never judges.

Growing up, I was an average student, often overlooked in school and college. My parents weren’t the most supportive, and humiliation became a constant companion, especially in front of family, friends, and neighbours. But amidst all of this, my diary remained my refuge, my safe space, and my most loyal friend.

During my school and college days, my diary listened when no one else would. It never ridiculed or belittled me. It saw my laughter, my tears, my struggles—it even stopped me from making drastic decisions at times. If not for my diary, I don't know how I would have survived those years.

Reliving the Past Through Old Journals

Back then, my diary held stories of joy and fun—moments I wasn’t allowed to express openly. As a below-average student, I wasn't encouraged to socialize, laugh, or simply be myself. Now, when I look back, I struggle to recall many happy memories from my childhood, but my diary holds them all.

Today, as I decluttered my room, I revisited my past 11 years, reading through the journals of the last decade. Each page revealed how much I had grown, yet also how certain things had never changed—how I continued to be taken for granted, how my suffering and childhood humiliation persisted even today.

A Life-Changing Moment

As I sat there, lost in thought, my husband noticed my expression and said, "Let's do something interesting today."

For the next three hours, we went through every page together. Then, at his encouragement, I tore them into pieces. Over the past decade, my journal had become a repository of my sadness and humiliation. But in reality, I had been living in the moment—sharing my joys and triumphs with my husband, a man who listens, appreciates, encourages, and supports me in every way. While my younger self had only a diary to celebrate small joys, today, I have a best friend in him.

Letting Go and Moving Forward

Piece by piece, I shredded those pages. It took time, but with every tear, I felt the negativity lift from my mind, my room, and my life. At that moment, I realized a hard truth—those who hurt me in my childhood continue to do so today. But the difference is, I am no longer the same person. I have gained strength, control, and a better grip on my life.

Journaling has always been my therapy, and I still love doing it. But as I write this, I see how much I have grown—not just as a writer but as a woman who chooses to focus on her strengths, happiness, and the love that surrounds her.