I never kept a journal consistently because writing my thoughts felt like giving anyone access to them, and thus, I felt pressured to write like an eloquent Socratic philosopher just in case anyone DID read it.
An interesting discussion on r/journaling about being honest, or not, in one's journal. And how the OP found it to be tiring.
What do you think?
And do you lie or simply make yourself look better in your journal, just in case some would read it?
I tend to agree with the OP. But, I also understand that desire to please and to be liked (and to not be judged) just in case someone would read that journal, even without our consent.
I also think that when one stops being honest in their journal there is a very real risk to lose interest in journaling altogether. Which I would not want to happen.
I did lie for a while in y journal, openly I mean. I called that being 'hypocritical' but it was only me lying to myself and to that hypothetical and very unwelcome reader. It did not last long, it was during a very challenging time with a lot of self-doubt... not that long ago as a matter of fact. I stopped doing that soon after I started as it was exhausting and not very helpful. And not fun at all.
Also, there are much simpler way to tell lies to an audience. Being an actor or a politician are two obvious ways of doing it. Or be a writer and write (or sketch) stories in which you lie. Not all stories are lies, but many are and that's perfectly OK.
Stories are great as in them one can pretend absolutely anything. And they're also much simpler to share than a journal, if that's what you're wanting to do. I mean, beside traditional publishing in books or magazines there are many places and communities one could share their ~~lies~~ stories to an audience more willing to believe them ;)
I think if you can't be honest with yourself it kind of defeats the purpose. But, I suppose it depends on your reasons for keeping a journal. I don't journal regularly. I tend to use it as a way to vent and as a tool for self reflection. I think I would find it exhausting if I tried to do this every day rather than when I feel like I need it.
As for a fear of other people reading it, the only other person who might do that is my wife and she already knows my thoughts on most of the things I write about. Even if she didn't, I would have no problem telling her. Aside from that, I don't care what other people might think about my ramblings.
Entirely, it really depends the motivation why you're journaling. Nut also how you think it can best help you.
As a child, I imagined a lot of things in my journal. It helped me feel better about the not so fun real world. My mom (who started reading my journal) hated that (and probably me too) for that and because of what I was writing about my emotions. I would not change a thing at the way I journaled back then bit in regards to my (sincere) emotions (and desires) and the 'lies' (some would say the 'stories') I was telling myself. They both helped me.
Yeah, I can understand that. I think I talked about how I journal nowadays in some other thread. My journal constantly lies on my desk for anyone (aka my spouse) to take if she ever feel like it. I Know she would never do such a thing unless I ask her to read something in it. Like I would never go through her papers without her telling me to do so. But even if she was to read it, I would not mind.
That said, given enough time priorities can shift as can people around us, as well as ourselves.
As a child whose mother decided that, for my own good, it was her right and her motherly duty to invade my privacy (among other things) I know very well how difficult it can be to trust people that are supposed to be close to you, and how far one may be willing to go to please them. Even more so when you're not in a position of equality. To keep my sanity against her and her inquisitorial habits (and punishments) I had to become much smarter than her. Learning to replace names and sensitive words with others, that is after I failed at hiding my journal and had to go through some shit, and then I quickly learned to write in English instead of my native French because she could not read it and, back then, there was no such thing as the Internet and no app to auto-translate.