Journaling: Your Passport To Ascend

For the past couple of years, I've made it a point to keep track of where I've been, where I'm going, and what I aspire to do. I've noticed that on the days I journal my inner thoughts, I feel more at peace. I can collect my thoughts more easily and recall events more clearly. Despite my past traumas, such as the time my father viciously read through my tween journal and shared my personal thoughts with the family

, I have found solace in writing. That moment was truly humiliating, and I stopped writing for several years. Knowing my sisters would join in, under my father’s influence, made it even harder. My father wasn’t in his right mind when he invaded my privacy, as I navigated life alone, my voice unheard except when drama overshadowed personal issues. Sometimes I get angry about that moment, but I realize there is a higher power, and through this force, I can forgive. I understand that some people project their suffering onto others.

That life-changing moment shaped me, but like any traumatic event, I see it as a blessing. I’ve realized I have an even louder voice now, one that has emerged from pressure like a diamond. This brings me to convince you that you can pivot your life through the words of your inner self. I consider my journaling time to be prayer time. The devil can't read, and even if he picked up my book, he wouldn’t understand my words or where I’m going.

My first choice for a journal is always something durable because I’m always roughhousing my items when getting around. Sometimes I need to have it at hand because I used it as a crutch. Whenever I felt anxious, I would pull out my notebook and start writing until I felt better. Occasionally, people ask what I’m writing, but they usually leave me alone when I mention it’s about God. 

With technology growing rapidly, people try all sorts of cyber attacks, but not on paper. No one cares to steal a notebook unless you're my father, who still occasionally cracks into my notes. From 2017 to 2022, I was engaged to a man who took full advantage of my ignorance and self-doubt. Though not a complete monster, he was conditioned to survive by any means. His refusal to wash properly and his general lifestyle should have been red flags. My inability to love myself and recognize my strength was a setback. I'm thankful for the events that knocked me on my head repeatedly, giving me a clear understanding of the world.

Since leaving that relationship, I've learned to perceive people more honestly and avoid social slavery. When things were unclear, I wrote my heart out and asked God for guidance. Chris, my ex-fiancé, proposed in March, and by July, I had fully moved out. During that time, he punched a hole in the wall, raged frequently, came home late with cocaine on his nose, and encouraged the children to ignore me. I saw all I needed to see and was ready to go. I think he believed the ring on my finger would keep me there, but I knew marriage could hide nightmares behind glamorous Instagram posts.

We haven’t learned much from our parents' generation, as we are still eager to marry despite the hidden potentials. I continued to write, knowing that my subconscious would eventually prompt action. Friends and family didn’t tell me what I was dealing with, except for one time that was lost in translation. Passive-aggressive gestures and jokes didn’t serve me as an adult needing clear communication.

Through all this, I wrote. I realized I no longer needed the type of parenting my family offered. I needed alone time to rejuvenate and articulate my desires. I wrote to recall events and fix the damages from my early childhood. On emotional days, I read my discomfort and found solutions.

I learned that fear is just the devil dancing on my nerves. We’re meant to grab life by the horns and trust in God. For those with church trauma, remember that manipulation using the Word of God is a sin. God doesn’t punish us for exercising free will, but He steps back when we make decisions without consulting our inner selves.

Less than a year after leaving Chris, he found another woman with the same name, two children, and a home. An accidental phone call led to an encounter with her, where I reassured her I had no interest in Chris. I continued to write, using a durable journal from Hobby Lobby, filled with inspirational Bible verses that I often miss in my panic but always return to.

In this noisy life, we are given tools and abilities to always find our way back home.

MY $5.99 JOURNAL