This Week in Your Journals: Pages That Made Me Feel Less Alone

Hey friend.

I want to tell you about something that happened last week.

I was scrolling through the pages you've shared with me — the ones you tag us in, the ones you email, the ones you drop in comments — and I found myself getting a little emotional. Not sad-emotional. The good kind. The "oh, this is why I do this" kind.

Because your pages? They're everything.

What I'm seeing in your journals this week:

Messy watercolor washes at 11pm — Someone wrote that they made this page "when I couldn't stop crying and didn't know why." The colors bled together. Nothing is centered. It's one of the most honest things I've seen. This is what art journaling is FOR.

A single word on a blank page — Just "tired." Written in ballpoint pen. No decoration, no paint, no collage. They said, "I didn't have energy for more but I needed to put it somewhere." Friend, that COUNTS. That counts so much.

A crayon spread from someone who said they'd "never be artistic" — They used their kid's crayons. The paper wrinkled. They wrote, "I felt like a child again and I haven't felt that way in years." YES. That's it. That's the whole thing.

Collage made from a grocery receipt and a magazine clipping — The receipt was for soup and tea. They wrote, "comfort food for a hard week." The collage pieces overlap messily. There's dried glue on the edge. It's perfect.

A page covered in black paint with white gel pen words peeking through — "I don't want to talk about it." Sometimes the journal holds what we can't say out loud. Sometimes the page is just a container for the unspeakable. That's sacred work.

A rainbow explosion from someone who said they're "finally feeling hopeful" — After months of gray pages, suddenly: color everywhere. No plan. Just "I wanted to see something bright." The shift in their work over time is visible, real, healing.

Here's what I want you to know:

Every single one of these pages is valid. The messy ones. The minimal ones. The ones that took 5 minutes and the ones that took 5 hours. The pretty ones and the ones that look like nothing.

There's no wrong way to fill a page.

There's no wrong way to feel.

There's no wrong way to be in this community.

What I'm carrying into this week:

Your courage. Your honesty. Your willingness to make something imperfect and share it anyway.

I'm sitting with my own journal tonight, and I'm thinking of you — the person reading this who hasn't started yet, who thinks their pages wouldn't measure up, who says "I could never do that."

You can. You're allowed. The first page can be a scribble. The second page can be blank. The third page can be something you hate. It's all part of it.

Share with me:

What's in your journal this week? Drop a description in the comments, or tag us if you post your page. I read every single one. They matter to me. You matter to me.

Your pages remind me why this practice works. Not because they look a certain way — because they FEEL a certain way. Real. Honest. Human.

Keep making the messy, beautiful, imperfect things.

Hand yourself a paintbrush.

— Renna

P.S. — If you're struggling right now and art journaling isn't enough, that's okay. It's not supposed to be enough. Please reach out to someone who can help — a therapist, a counselor, or the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You don't have to carry it alone.