“News” is Now “The Imprint” And We’ve Moved to Substack!
by Lisa Hartsgrove
In a somewhat recent therapy session, I told my therapist about poetry I had written to help process a personal friendship ending. We brought up how writing can be used as a tool for closure, for healing, for dealing with complex emotions. As someone who teaches writing for a living, this wasn’t news to me. I’ve long advocated for writing’s healing power with other writers. Of course writing can be therapeutic. That’s what made me turn to it.
At that moment in therapy, I felt compelled to read to my therapist the poetry I’d been writing. At the same time, as I told her about my process—how good it felt to pour my sadness and anger into a page without worrying about who might see it—I also felt compelled not to share those pages aloud. The catharsis came just from writing, this time, not from sharing the story.
As a writing workshop facilitator, I often share my work to model for the groups that I work with that it’s okay to share first draft material. It also helps to demonstrate that there is no “guru” in the room—we are all in this together. Sharing my writing is something I have learned to just do.
But before I read my poetry to my therapist, I paused. Not because those pages were too vulnerable—my therapist and I were deeply exploring my emotions around the subject as it was. And I’m clearly used to being vulnerable. But I realized then that the process of writing, alone, was already enough to make me feel better. I was ready to finally let that story go, not to analyze it with my therapist or mine it for its narrative potential.
I’ve spent so much time studying writing, talking about writing, facilitating writing workshops, that I almost forgot how to just write for myself.
Writing can be therapeutic when shared. And writing for publication is a great goal to set out for. It’s certainly beneficial to feel heard. But writing can also be therapeutic when kept between the pages of a notebook, tightly shut, maybe even burned.
It can be hard to write out your full truth when you’re constantly thinking about the reader who will have to interpret it. What if, instead, sometimes the only reader is you?
- If you are accustomed to writing for publication—don’t stop! Writers can be more than one thing. You can write to publish and write for yourself, too.
- Map out a time that works for you to alleviate guilt. Treat this as part of your health routine. Just like brushing your teeth—dedicate a daily time to write just for you. It can be as short as five minutes.
- Try handwriting over typing. This can help silence the inner critic that wants to hit the backspace button. There’s no need to edit your own thoughts for yourself.
- Burn the page. Seriously! Make yourself comfortable with the impermanence of this kind of work. Release yourself from expectations. Burn. The. Page.
Here are some prompts to get you started …
- Write about a secret you’ve never told anyone before that’s been weighing on you.
- Dig into your anger—say everything you’ve held back when you were mad.
- Write a letter to someone that you never actually intend to send.
- Write down all of your self-doubts and anxieties.
Writing is an art form, and just like art, not all of it is meant to be consumed by the masses. If it feels more comfortable to keep it to yourself, then you have permission to do just that! Sometimes the art is just in the process of creating and letting it go. Sometimes the art is watching it burn.
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