emotional regulation

Rewrite and Rewire Your Brain with Journaling

How Journaling Rewires Your Brain for Mental Well-Being

I’ve been journaling since I was a teenager. At first, it was just a way to make sense of my thoughts—an unfiltered space where I could work through emotions that felt too tangled to say out loud. Over time, I noticed something deeper happening. Writing didn’t just help me vent; it helped me see myself more clearly, to step outside of emotions long enough to understand them. So when I came across the research on how journaling physically rewires the brain, it didn’t feel unbelievable- it felt like a revelation. Finally, science was explaining what I had felt intuitively for years: writing doesn’t just help you process emotions; it changes the way your brain responds to them.

The more I learned, the more exciting it became. Neuroscientists have found that putting words to emotions calms the brain’s fear response, strengthens emotional regulation, and even rewires neural pathways to make us more resilient over time. A few minutes of writing, a pen and a notebook- that’s all it takes to reshape the way we think and feel.


How Writing Changes the Brain

We tend to think of our emotions as intangible, something separate from our bodies. But feelings live in the brain just like everything else, and they have physical pathways that determine how we experience and respond to them. Neuroscientists at UCLA found that when people write about their emotions, the amygdala, the part of the brain that sets off alarm bells, fear, stress, panic, becomes less active. At the same time, the prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for logic and self-regulation, lights up. In other words, writing gives the emotional brain a way to slow down, step back, and let the thinking brain take the lead. Instead of getting hijacked by feelings, journaling lets you step outside of them, name them, and in doing so, change how they affect you.

I’ve felt this myself, that almost imperceptible shift when I start writing something that feels too big to hold. The emotions that were taking up so much space in my chest suddenly feel contained, less chaotic. It’s not that writing erases them, but it makes them manageable.


The Weight of Unspoken Thoughts

I’ve worked with so many people who carry emotions they never speak aloud—grief, anger, fear, the kind of feelings that sit heavy in the body and start to shape the way they move through the world. Sometimes, when they finally say them out loud in therapy, they’re surprised by how much lighter they feel just naming them. Journaling works in a similar way. It externalizes emotions, takes them out of the amorphous mess in your mind, and places them somewhere you can see them. And that simple act—acknowledging what’s there—starts to shift the experience of it.

James Pennebaker, a psychologist who has spent decades studying the effects of expressive writing, found that people who write about their emotions experience lower stress levels, improved immune function, and even faster healing from physical wounds. It’s as if the mind, when given a structured way to process emotions, frees up energy that would otherwise be spent suppressing them. Of course, sometimes it doesn’t feel good right away. Writing can bring up things you weren’t expecting, emotions you’d rather not deal with. But research suggests that even when journaling feels uncomfortable in the moment, it still helps long-term. It’s almost like unclogging a drain—the buildup has to come out first, but once it does, things flow more easily.

When Feeling Too Much Becomes Numbing

There’s a strange paradox when it comes to emotions: the more overwhelming they feel, the more we tend to shut down. I’ve seen this in patients who describe themselves as highly sensitive or empathic: they absorb everything, feel everything, and eventually, they hit a breaking point. (My blog post on Empath(y) addresses this). Journaling, I think, is a way to make emotions tangible without drowning in them. You’re not trying to escape what you feel, but you’re also not letting it swallow you whole. It gives you a structure, a sense of control; not in the sense of forcing emotions into submission, but in knowing that you have somewhere to put them.

This is why I sometimes recommend gratitude journaling, not because I think people should “just focus on the positive” (I hate that kind of toxic positivity), but because our brains naturally fixate on what’s wrong more than what’s right. Gratitude isn’t about denying pain, it’s about expanding the frame and shifting our perspective so that pain isn’t the only thing in view. Neuroscientists at UC Berkeley found that people who practice gratitude journaling show increased levels of dopamine and serotonin, which are the brain’s feel-good chemicals. And over time, this trains the brain to scan for more of what’s good, rather than defaulting to what’s stressful or negative.

Writing As A Mirror

If I had to describe what journaling does in a single phrase, I’d say: it holds up a mirror. It reflects back your thoughts, your patterns, the things you return to over and over again without realizing. Sometimes, seeing things on paper makes you realize how untrue they are. Other times, it reveals something you hadn’t been able to admit to yourself. And sometimes, it just lets you breathe, lets you feel something without needing to immediately fix it. That’s the part that I think is most powerful. We spend so much time trying to solve emotions, as if they’re a puzzle to be completed, when sometimes, they just need space to exist.

The Takeaway

I used to think journaling was just for people who loved to write, but I’ve realized it’s less about writing and more about listening to yourself. It’s about carving out a space where your thoughts and feelings can land, unfiltered, and in doing so, making them feel less heavy.

If you’ve never journaled before, start small. A sentence. A thought. A single word. See what happens when you give your mind room to breathe on the page.

And if you want to go deeper, I’ll be exploring all of this in my upcoming journal therapy group- because while writing alone is powerful, writing in community can be transformative.


References

If you're curious about the science behind journaling and its effects on the brain, here are some key studies and books that explore it further:

  • Lieberman, M. D., et al. (2007). Putting feelings into words: Affect labeling disrupts amygdala activity in response to affective stimuli. Psychological Science, 18(5), 421-428. [Link]
    (Explains how writing about emotions reduces amygdala activity and strengthens emotional regulation.)

  • Pennebaker, J. W. (1997). Opening up: The healing power of expressing emotions. Guilford Press.
    (A deep dive into expressive writing and how journaling can help with emotional processing, stress, and even physical health.)

  • Pennebaker, J. W., & Beall, S. K. (1986). Confronting a traumatic event: Toward an understanding of inhibition and disease. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 95(3), 274–281.
    (A foundational study showing how writing about emotions leads to reduced stress and improved immune function.)

  • Kross, E., et al. (2014). Self-talk as a regulatory mechanism: How you do it matters. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 106(2), 304-324.
    (Explores how journaling and self-reflection help regulate emotions by engaging the prefrontal cortex.)

  • Emmons, R. A., & McCullough, M. E. (2003). Counting blessings versus burdens: An experimental investigation of gratitude and subjective well-being in daily life. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 84(2), 377-389.
    (Examines how gratitude journaling increases dopamine and serotonin, improving mood and well-being.)

  • MacGillivray, L. (2009). I feel your pain: Mirror neurons and empathy. The University of British Columbia.
    (Discusses how mirror neurons help us process others’ emotions, offering insight into why journaling about social experiences can be therapeutic.)

  • Smyth, J. M., et al. (1999). Effects of writing about stressful experiences on symptom reduction in patients with asthma or rheumatoid arthritis: A randomized trial. JAMA, 281(14), 1304-1309.
    (Shows how expressive writing leads to measurable physical health improvements.)



TRIGGERED

When a mental health term used by psychotherapists and counselors crosses over into mainstream culture, I often have mixed feelings. First, a bit of surprise and delight that people outside the field are learning about terms and ideas and applying it to their lives. Secondly, some dismay and frustration at how the word gets used, misunderstood and even changed without acknowledgment. One of those words, which has actually been used for years and in a lot of ways is already almost unrecognizable is “triggered”.


What does “triggered” actually mean?

 Triggered in its simplest form is something that elicits a reaction but in the world of mental health is often when a person with a past experience of trauma (potentially with a diagnosis of PTSD but not necessarily) has a painful and overwhelming sensory and emotional reaction to something that they experience in the moment. As a therapist, I think this is an incredibly helpful piece of information for someone to have about themselves. It can make sense of strong reactions that don’t fit the current situation and even help the person ground in reality. 

An example: 

You are meeting a friend for dinner and she was late. You feel yourself shift from annoyance to seething,-thinking about how rude and inconsiderate she was to be late and make you wait for her. Maybe you want to yell at her, maybe you want to punch her in the face, maybe you want to storm off. This friend, who you love, suddenly became the cause of all your pain.

And then you stop and think. You remember how your mom would pick you up late from school or forget you were at a friend's house and you’d have to call her to pick you up. It made you feel unimportant and abandoned. You were never really able to talk about it, but to this day, people being late feels like they have forgotten you. It’s at this moment that you know you are not only upset, but you are triggered.

Sometimes knowing that is enough to let the feeling pass through your body. When your friend arrives, you can believe her lateness was an accident and enjoy the dinner. 

Or maybe that’s not enough. Maybe you need to talk to your about it. This is where I think the internet gets it wrong. If you use this information to tell your friend how rude she is and  make her take responsibility for the full scope of your pain, then you are misunderstanding the concept. You are forgetting that like all dynamics, to be “triggered” is an intersubjective act (occurs and is co-created by at least two people) and that you are bringing something to the dynamic. 

If you fully understand the meaning of triggered then the conversation may go differently. You will tell your friend you are aware you have a sensitivity to people being late  and that if there is a way to better communicate about delays when meeting up you’d appreciate it (if it’s a pattern). Sharing responsibility in the problem and the solution increases the chance that your friend will be responsive. And if the behavior does not change, you have a choice about if you accept it or let go of the relationship. This is a simple example of being triggered. 

Although each dynamic is co-created, the engagement is not always symmetrical and power differentials can impact the level of responsibility each party owns. An example of that may be when a professor misgenders a student repeatedly. Although as an older millennial I can imagine how a professor in the field for years may struggle with the new way of acknowledging student identities I also recognize their power in the dynamic.  As an authority figure the language they use with their students shapes the quality of all of the interactions. A classroom is not supposed to be a baptism by fire but rather a chance to incubate developing identities and instill confidence. After all, it is an arranged marriage in a sense. If possible I think it is always an interesting experiment to try to imagine a story about the other person’s behavior that is about their own history. A student being triggered here may want to think about their professor’s point of view as a coping mechanism, but they also have a right to ask for accountability and change from their superior.

Triggered is a word and concept that has a very important place in psychotherapy and in understanding a patient’s history, family dynamics, current relationships and relationship with the world. Outside of the therapy room, it often takes on a different connotation. Words change with use and with the cultural zeitgeist, (I’m still lamenting the acceptance of “literal” to mean “figurative”), and I don’t aim to police that. But when shifts happen to frequently used words, it’s important to acknowledge it. For many years, “triggered” has become closer to the word “upset” , a somewhat vague feeling word. It implies the other has wounded us and needs to apologize. It feels closer to “verbally assaulted” or “wounded”. These are important concepts and extremely common experiences and at times to use the word “triggered” actually undermines the ability to acknowledge an actual abuse. The shift in the connotation makes it an easy target for humor and mockery, connecting it to politically infused words like “snowflake” and “entitled”.

Being thoughtful and intentional in our language choice when discussing feelings is important as it increases the likelihood that we will be understood and responded to in a way that feels validating.