Expressive writing is more than just recounting daily events; it's a powerful tool for creating meaning. It allows us to rewrite our life stories, positioning ourselves as the main character in control. It invites us to dwell in what author and activist Parker Palmer (2009) refers to as the "tragic gap," the space between reality and possibility.
What is Expressive Writing?
James Pennebaker (1997), a social psychologist and Professor Emeritus at the University of Texas at Austin, pioneered research on expressive writing, asking people to write about stressful or traumatic experiences. This process involves staying in the "tragic gap," searching for a lifeline to move into a better mental space. Pennebaker and colleagues initially recruited college students, assigning them to write about either a distressing event or a neutral topic, such as last week's activities, under the guise of reflecting on time management skills. In both the experimental and control groups, participants wrote anonymously. The researchers hypothesized that self-disclosure on paper, making the internal external, would lead to positive health outcomes (Pennebaker and Evans, 2014; Pennebaker and Smith, 2016).
While some initial assumptions were likely true, the real power seemed to lie in the act of writing itself, not just the disclosure. Although some participants in the experimental group felt worse immediately after writing, over time, they experienced better outcomes than the control group, as measured by visits to the student health center. In the experimental group, students who typically submitted poor work for class developed articulate narratives, clearly valuing their story.
Follow-up studies by many researchers replicated these results, expanding the population to include war veterans, healthcare workers, cancer survivors, chronic pain sufferers, crime victims, first responders, new mothers, caregivers, the recently unemployed, and the incarcerated. The length of writing sessions and the number of sessions did not significantly alter the health benefits. Participants wrote for anywhere from two to 15 minutes in consecutive sessions, ranging from minutes apart to several days apart (Baddeley and Pennebaker, 2011; Kartikaningsih et al., 2023; Pennebaker and to Smyth (2016), Procaccia et al. (2021), Sexton et al. (2009), Vieira (2019), and Wu et al. (2021).
Interestingly, follow-up studies show that it's not even necessary to write about your own life. For example, people who wrote about others' challenging experiences still experienced health benefits (Nazarian and Smyth, 2013). While not definitively known, one explanation is that expressive writing helps people develop emotional granularity and processing skills, which can later be applied to their own struggles. Moreover, understanding others' struggles can lessen feelings of loneliness, helping participants realize that difficulties are a universal part of the human experience.
Try Expressive Writing
If you're interested in trying expressive writing, no special equipment or costly time commitment is required. While you might prefer typing, handwriting is recommended because it is slower, allowing for deeper reflection. The length and frequency of writing are personal preferences, but writing for 15 minutes over three consecutive days is a reasonable starting point. It's important to note that positive health outcomes have been observed for both those who write about the same topic each day and those who switch topics each session. While simply recounting a stressful or traumatic event can be beneficial, there are other, more nuanced approaches worth trying.
For example, Pennebaker and Smythe (2016) suggest writing with an eye on the thoughts and feelings surrounding the event, aiming to extract meaning from the experience rather than just narrating the unfolding. Remember, making sense of an experience often takes time, and several iterations may be needed to gain clarity. Another approach is to write about the event from different perspectives: starting in the first person, using pronouns like "I" and "we"; then retelling the story in the second person, as if talking to yourself in the mirror using "you"; and finally experimenting with the third person, adopting an outsider's voice using pronouns like "she," "he," or "they" (Seih et al., 2011).
Another challenging but rewarding method is to write with the aim of finding a lesson to carry forward, asking, "I didn't ask for this, deserve it, or want it, but since it happened, what insights can I gain?" Finally, after trying some of the methods above, zoom out and fast forward, writing about the distressing or traumatic experience from the perspective of your best and most capable future self, providing yourself with a roadmap for growth.
In Parker Palmer's book 'Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation' (2024), he says that while some journeys are straightforward and others complicated, each one, if taken honestly, has the potential to lead us to where our true happiness meets the world's greatest needs.