Why Writing Is a Powerful Tool for Self-Discovery and Healing

Lately, I’ve been realizing how much writing has become part of my soul, my spiritual practice. Even though I’m only now seeing how essential it is for me, it’s been there all along…one of those things hidden in plain sight.

(If you’re drawn to this idea of uncovering what’s been there all along, you might also like my post on rediscovering yourself beneath the labels life hands us.)

I’ve been writing since childhood, long before I knew it was a way of connecting to my higher self and to something beyond. My first memories go back to early elementary school. My parents divorced just before I started first grade, and we moved four hours away from my dad and sister. Writing became the way I stayed connected.

My dad wrote me letters every week, tucking in a dollar bill or a stick of gum. It wasn’t long before I could write back. I learned early that writing meant connection — a way to say hello to someone you loved.

Over the years I added aunts, uncles, and far-away friends to my letter-writing world. Each letter was a send-off into the void…and somehow, magically, one would come back. I noticed I had a different connection with these family members than anyone else did. At reunions, it felt like we were just picking up a conversation that had never stopped. I felt more seen in those letters than anywhere else.

(It reminds me how early our sense of being seen (or unseen) is shaped, something Tina and I spoke about more deeply in this piece about the pain of not being heard.)

In fourth grade, I entered an arts competition. My mom and I went through the possible categories — photography, ceramics, painting. Of course, I chose writing. She stepped away for a moment, saying she’d help me when she got back. But in those few minutes, a poem came through me. I just grabbed a paper and wrote what arrived.

It was simple and innocent — the kind of poem only a child can write — but I knew the words came from somewhere else. When my mom returned, she was surprised to see a finished piece…and even more surprised that it was good. I won second place. That was my first memory of channeling, or automatic writing. I’ve felt it many times since — I just didn’t have language for it then.

(If intuition plays a quiet role in your life too, you might find this post helpful, especially when your intuitive nudges feel both familiar and a little disruptive.)

Life pulled me in other directions as I grew up. Boys, children, school, and the busyness of becoming an adult. Writing turned into research papers, assignments, and letters only to my dad — until even those became phone calls. I typed more, wrote less by hand. The people I wrote to passed away. And without realizing it, I disconnected from my earliest gift…my magic.

Writing became something I did to accomplish tasks. Even writing my book, The Functioning Hot Mess, was completing a goal — not returning to myself. My next books waited. Writing got lost in the noise of adulting.

(This was also the season where I was living deep in the shadow….something I explored more in this piece about what shadow work really is and why it matters.)

But in the past few months, it’s been coming back so strongly. I’ve been seeing these memories — little flashes — showing me how writing has always been my self-expression. How it helped me make sense of the world and my life. How it was always the doorway back to myself.

Writing is how I find myself again.

When I look at the years I stopped writing, I see the years I was healing from trauma. Pages soaked with tears becoming the place where the pain left my body. Anger pouring out of my pen and turning into clarity and compassion before my eyes. Writing was part of my personal transformation long before I realized it.

And I’ve noticed something important: in my darkest seasons — the times I completely lost who I was — I also stopped writing. The longer I went without journaling, the more I blended into the collective and drifted away from myself. Those were the years I felt the most lost.

Now, after years of coming back to the page, I feel more like myself than ever. Like I’ve found myself again. Rediscovering who I am — and who I’m becoming — through ink and paper. There’s a depth that only comes when you’re finding yourself again on the page.

And I’m excited to share more of that with you here.

(If journaling has been calling to you too, you might like this post about using journaling for healing and clarity.)

So if you’re up for it, grab your favorite pen and journal…and let’s do this together.

If you’re on your own self-trust journey — reconnecting with yourself through softer practices — I created The Remembering, a gentle PDF with simple reflections to help you return to who you are. If you’d like it, you can find it here.