Guided Journal Entry #3

Welcome back to Shrink Wrapped—the podcast where we unpack our feelings like emotionally literate raccoons rifling through the junk drawer of our minds. On today's guided journal episode, we’re diving headfirst into the terrifying but necessary waters of… self-appreciation. Gasp. I know. Gross. But hear me out.

Our guided journal prompt today is:

“What are three things you appreciate about yourself—three qualities intrinsic to you? And how can you use those strengths more in your daily life? Oh, and plot twist: this is not about what you do for other people.”

Yeah, we’re skipping the usual “I’m a good friend” or “I always show up for others” cop-out and going full main character energy. This is about you, for you. Your weird, wonderful, non-performative traits that exist even when no one’s watching. Maybe it’s your relentless curiosity. Maybe it’s your ability to find the one chaotic joke in a tense situation. Maybe it’s your refusal to give up, even when you’re held together by caffeine and unhinged voice memos.

So grab your journal, resist the urge to dodge the question with self-deprecating humor (I’m watching you), and let’s figure out what actually makes you you—beyond the helper role, the productivity spiral, or your ability to answer emails faster than anyone asked. Let’s get into it, you lovable little identity crisis.

Alright. Let’s get something straight: you are not a productivity robot, a walking to-do list, or a goddamn emotional support human for everyone in your life. I mean, unless you want to be—and if so, please enjoy your complimentary burnout and existential dread. The rest of us? We’re trying to opt out of that whole nonsense.

Today is another journaling day— and no, it's not the “Dear Diary, I folded the laundry and didn’t cry in the shower today” kind. No. We’re talking about writing down the sh*t you actually like about yourself. Not the stuff that makes you a good employee or a good friend or a good whatever-the-hell else people want from you. I mean the stuff that’s yours. The weird little sparks that make you you. Your dry humor. Your stubborn optimism. The way you overthink everything and still manage to show up. That quiet inner resilience. That absolute chaos energy that somehow works.

Because if you only see yourself through the lens of how useful you are to other people, congratulations—you’re now a utility, not a person. And guess what? You’re not a damn Swiss Army knife. You are not here just to be convenient.

So yeah, journaling about what you appreciate about you—intrinsically, inherently, unapologetically—isn’t self-indulgent. It’s survival. It’s a middle finger to a world that keeps trying to convince you that your worth is conditional. It’s a moment to sit down and say, “Actually, I’m kinda amazing. And not because I fixed your problems, but because I exist—and that’s enough.”

So grab your pen. Let’s get into some deeply unproductive, wildly self-affirming shit.

This is a hard prompt, right? Like, uncomfortably hard. Because society—bless its manipulative little heart—has spent decades whispering sweet toxic nothings in our ears about how our worth is directly tied to what we can do for other people. Be helpful. Be productive. Be the reliable one. Be the selfless one. Be the emotional janitor who cleans up everyone’s messes while smiling through the existential crisis.

But guess what? That’s bullsh*t. You are worth so much more than your output. You are not a human vending machine who spits out validation and caretaking in exchange for crumbs of approval. You’re not a support character in everyone else’s storyline. You’re the whole damn main character.

And yet, when someone asks you what you appreciate about yourself—without bringing up your job, your relationships, or your ability to carry the weight of five people’s emotional baggage without breaking—you draw a blank. Because that kind of self-reflection isn’t something most of us were taught to do. It’s radical. It’s awkward. And it might make you feel like a narcissist for even trying.

But here’s the truth bomb: recognizing your own value—outside of how useful you are—isn’t selfish. It’s the antidote to a lifetime of being told you’re only as good as your last sacrifice. It’s reclaiming the parts of yourself that are vibrant and worthy just because they exist.

So yeah, this is a hard prompt. But it’s also a necessary one. Because you are not a resume. You are not a role. You are not your damn to-do list. You are a whole-ass person, and there are parts of you—quiet, quirky, chaotic, brilliant parts—that deserve to be seen, celebrated, and written down like the sacred truths they are.

Still struggling with coming up with pieces of yourself to love and write down? I've got a list you can riff off of here:

Your Curiosity – The Way You See the World

Okay, let’s talk about that beautiful, buzzing brain of yours—the one that refuses to just accept things at face value. You ask questions. You wonder. You poke at the edges of reality like, “Hey, what’s going on under here?” You’re not content to just nod along with the surface-level crap. You want to know—not in a nosy, TMZ kind of way, but in a “why does the universe work like this and what the hell does it mean for me?” kind of way. That’s not just a personality trait. That’s a damn gift.

And society? Society wants you to tone that down. Be agreeable. Don’t overthink it. Stay in your lane. Pick one path and stick to it until you die or at least retire with a pension and chronic back pain. But your brain? It’s like, “Cool, but what if I followed this random thread about 14th-century plague medicine and then pivoted to wondering if squirrels have existential crises?” And honestly? I respect the hell out of that.

So here’s your homework: use it more. Feed that chaotic, wondrous curiosity. Try something new just because it’s interesting, not because it’ll make you money or look impressive on LinkedIn. Dive headfirst into a rabbit hole. Watch documentaries about things you’ve never even heard of. Learn a skill you’ll never monetize. Ask weird questions at dinner. Google something just because it made your brain go “huh.” Follow the spark. Chase the itch.

Because curiosity isn’t a distraction—it’s your internal compass reminding you that you’re still alive, still engaged, still hungry to understand this weird and wonderful mess of a world. So don’t kill it with practicality. Feed it with wonder. Let it lead the way, even if you don’t know where the hell it’s going.

Spoiler: that’s half the fun.

Your Sense of Humor – The Way You Find Joy

You, my friend, have the gift of laughing in the middle of chaos—which basically makes you a wizard in this flaming circus we call life. Whether you’re cracking jokes, dropping sarcastic one-liners, or just side-eyeing the absurdity of it all with a smirk and a “Seriously? This is real?”—you bring levity into spaces that desperately need it. That’s not just cute. That’s alchemical.

Your humor is a survival tool, a connection builder, and a secret weapon against total emotional implosion. It’s how you carve out light in the dark. It’s how you say, “This situation is a mess, but at least it’s my mess and I can meme about it later.” And let’s be real: sometimes the only thing standing between you and a complete meltdown is a wildly inappropriate joke whispered to yourself in a Target aisle. That’s power.

So use it more. And I don’t mean just being the class clown or everyone’s comic relief—this isn’t about performing. It’s about letting yourself laugh, especially when the world wants you to stay serious, polished, and stressed to the brink. Watch the dumb comedies. Re-read that chaotic text thread. Laugh at your own weird habits and say, “Yep, that’s me, hot mess express—choo choo, no regrets.”

And when sh*t hits the fan? Don’t be afraid to bring that humor with you. You don’t have to turn every tough moment into a TED Talk. Sometimes you just need to call the awkwardness what it is, crack a joke, and breathe again. Humor makes hard things human. It lets people exhale. It reminds us that we don’t have to suffer stoically—we can laugh, and in doing so, reclaim some joy on our own terms.

So yeah. Your sense of humor? Keep that sh*t close. It’s one of your best magic tricks.

Your Resilience – The Way You Keep Going

Let’s be real: resilience isn’t always cute. It’s not some Pinterest-worthy mantra scrawled in perfect calligraphy. It’s more like dragging yourself through the mud of life in ripped sweatpants, swearing under your breath, flipping off the sky, and still showing up the next day like, “What now, bitch?”

You’ve been knocked on your ass before. Life has absolutely handed you some Olympic-level BS, and while you may not have bounced back like a rom-com protagonist with perfect hair and a quirky plan—you did get back up. Maybe you cried in your car. Maybe you doom-scrolled and stress-ate an entire sleeve of cookies first. But you got up. Again. That’s resilience. And that’s punk rock as hell.

So use it more. Not in a “suck it up and soldier on” way—this isn’t the Resilience Olympics and we’re not handing out trauma trophies. I mean remember what you’ve already made it through. Channel that “I’ve survived worse” energy when the next dumpster fire rolls through. Look your chaos in the eye and say, “Oh sweetie, I’ve met your cousins, and they were louder and more dramatic.”

Your resilience doesn’t mean you're invincible—it means you're resourceful, stubborn, and scrappy as hell. It means even when you're wobbling emotionally like a baby giraffe on roller skates, you keep showing up. Maybe not gracefully, maybe not cleanly, but honestly—and that matters more.

So when life starts hurling lemons, bricks, or unsolicited advice at your head, tap into that grit. That messy, real, deeply earned resilience that says, “I don’t have to like this, but I’m sure as hell not giving up now.”

Your Creativity – The Way You Express Yourself

Let’s talk about that beautifully unhinged brain of yours—the one that randomly generates plotlines, paints emotional landscapes out of memes, rewrites conversations in your head like a screenwriter on deadline, and turns shower thoughts into full-blown TED Talks. That? That’s creativity, baby. Whether you paint, write, build elaborate fantasy worlds, or just color-code your grocery list with the flair of a caffeinated raccoon—it counts.

Your mind is a playground. A slightly weird, occasionally haunted one, maybe, but a playground nonetheless. It doesn’t need to be “profitable” or “marketable” or even “coherent to others.” That’s not the point. Your creativity is the place where the rules are yours, where the stakes are low, and the dopamine is high. It’s how your soul gets a little recess from adulting.

So use it more. And no, this isn’t me telling you to monetize your hobbies or start a side hustle unless that actually brings you joy (and if it does, hell yeah, go off). I’m saying: make space to create without the crushing weight of being “good” at it. Finger-paint like a maniac. Write a poem that makes no sense to anyone but your cat. Collage, sing, knit, build, scribble, dance like no one's watching—and if they are, make it weirder.

This isn’t about talent. It’s about freedom. It’s about giving your inner goblin child the crayons and saying, “Go nuts.” It’s about expression that doesn’t need permission. And the more you let that creative chaos run loose, the more alive you feel.

So give your brain a break from spreadsheets and people-pleasing. Let it run barefoot through the wild fields of WTF is this? and who cares, I like it. That’s where the magic lives.

Your Thoughtfulness – The Way You Notice Things

You, my friend, are the kind of person who notices the tiny stuff—the soft sighs, the subtle eye rolls, the exact way someone takes their coffee when they say they “don’t care.” You remember birthdays without Facebook reminders. You notice when someone’s off before they’ve even realized it themselves. You’re basically a human emotional radar, and honestly? That’s rare as hell.

You make people feel seen. Not in the performative “I got you a candle because it was on sale” kind of way, but in the “I remembered that obscure thing you said once while half-asleep and got you a gift that proves I actually listen” kind of way. That’s not just sweet—that’s straight-up psychic. You’ve got that intuitive, detail-oriented, soul-nourishing energy that makes people feel safe, held, and not like they’re screaming into the void.

But here’s the kicker: you’re probably not turning that same thoughtfulness inward, are you? Be honest. You’re out here emotionally supporting five people, remembering their dog’s name, and anticipating everyone’s needs like some kind of empathy concierge—but when it comes to yourself? Crickets.

So let’s fix that.

Use that superpower on you for once. Ask yourself what you need. Not what you should need or what would make you more productive or palatable—what you actually crave. What lights you up? What drains you? What’s that tiny thing you keep brushing off as “no big deal” that actually kind of is? Notice it. Name it. Honor it like you would for someone you love—because spoiler alert: that person should be you too.

Your thoughtfulness is a gift, but it’s not just for other people. You’re not some emotional concierge at the Hotel Everyone Else’s Needs. You deserve your own damn turn-down service.

Your Independence – The Way You Stand on Your Own

You, my unapologetically self-sufficient badass, are not out here begging for gold stars or waiting for someone to co-sign your every move. You know how to handle your business. You can go to a movie alone, book a solo trip, or make a major life decision without polling a group chat like you’re hosting an emergency town hall. And that, my friend? That is a power move.

You don’t crumble when you’re alone. You don’t need constant noise, company, or validation to know you’re doing okay. You’ve cultivated that rare kind of peace—the kind that lives inside you, not in someone else’s approval. You’re the kind of person who can spend an afternoon with just your own thoughts and not spiral into an identity crisis (…most days). That’s elite-level emotional skill.

And the best part? You don’t ask for permission. You know what you like, you know what you want, and you don’t need a committee vote before acting on it. You trust your gut—and when you don’t, you fake it ‘til the gut catches up. You’re basically a one-person think tank with impeccable instincts and a built-in bullsh*t detector.

So here’s your nudge: use it more. Stop second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to consult the entire internet before making a choice. You are allowed to do something because you feel like it. You don’t owe anyone a PowerPoint presentation explaining why you chose joy today. Go to dinner alone and order the dessert. Take that class. Make that move. Change your damn mind.

Your independence isn’t cold, distant, or “too much”—it’s magnetic. It’s grounded. It’s giving “main character energy meets adulting competence with a twist of IDGAF.” So lean into it. Trust yourself. Enjoy yourself. And remind yourself often: you are not lonely—you are whole.

Your Sensitivity – The Way You Feel Deeply

Ohhh you feel things? Everything? All the time? With the intensity of a thousand overly-caffeinated poets? GOOD. That’s not a bug in your programming—that’s a feature, baby. You care. You feel. You absorb energy like a sponge in a room full of spilled feelings. And yeah, sometimes it sucks. Sometimes you cry during commercials or spiral for three days because someone said “we need to talk.” But that doesn’t make you fragile—it makes you deep.

The world will try to convince you that sensitivity is weakness. That it’s too much. Too soft. Too inconvenient. But here’s the truth: numb is easy. Jaded is trendy. Cynicism is everywhere. You, though? You’re still open. You still give a damn when it would be so much easier not to. That’s not soft—that’s steel wrapped in empathy. You’re walking around with an unarmored heart in a world that hands out shields and tells people to shut up and smile. That’s f*cking brave.

So here’s the deal: use it more—but wisely. Let yourself feel everything, but don’t let everything eat you alive. Feel without apologizing, but also know when to unplug from emotional vampires and soul-suckers. Protect your energy like it’s Beyoncé’s personal phone number—guarded, sacred, and not for everyone.

Cry when you need to. Rage journal. Send emotionally unhinged voice notes to your trusted people. Laugh until you wheeze. Let joy knock you off your feet just as much as grief does. That range? That depth? That’s your gift.

And let’s be honest: the world doesn’t need more people who don’t care. It needs more people like you—people who feel deeply, love fiercely, and still show up even when their heart is hanging on by a thread and some hope.

You’re not “too sensitive.” You’re emotionally fluent. And the rest of the world is just catching up.

Your Ability to Change – The Way You Grow

Look, let’s call it what it is: growth is messy. It's uncomfortable. It’s basically emotional puberty on loop. And yet—you do it anyway. You’re not the same person you were five years ago… or five months ago… hell, maybe even five days ago depending on how chaotic life’s been. And that? That’s incredible.

You’ve adapted. You’ve unlearned. You’ve dragged old habits to the curb and said, “You’re toxic, I’m thriving.” You’ve outgrown relationships, mindsets, coping mechanisms, entire personality eras. You’ve molted more than a crusty little emotional snake, and somehow you keep leveling up—even when it’s not cute or Instagram-worthy.

And yet, when change shows up again—dressed like chaos in a trench coat—you still get that gut reaction like, “Oh god no, not this again.” But guess what? You’ve done it before. You’ll do it again. And every time, you come out a little wiser, a little weirder, and way more you.

So yeah, use that ability more. Instead of treating change like a punishment, treat it like the plot twist that makes the story better. Lean in. Pivot. Try the weird thing. Break the routine. Drop the identity that no longer fits and pick up the one that scares you in the best way. Remind yourself that just because something’s unfamiliar doesn’t mean you can’t crush it.

You’re a walking, talking, ever-evolving work of art. And the best part? You’re not finished. You never will be. And that’s not failure—that’s freedom.

Your Intuition – The Way You Just Know

You’ve got a built-in bullsh*t detector, and guess what? It’s not broken. That gut feeling you get when someone’s vibe is off, even though they’re smiling like a used car salesman? That quiet little nudge when you know you should walk away, even if you technically have no “proof”? That’s your intuition, babe—and it’s not just there for funsies. It’s your internal GPS, and it’s way more accurate than anything Google Maps could dream of.

You just know sometimes. You don’t have the receipts. You didn’t run a double-blind study. But your body? Your nervous system? Your spidey senses? They’ve been taking notes this whole damn time. And when they speak, it’s usually for a reason. Sometimes it’s a whisper. Sometimes it’s a full-on airhorn at 3AM like, “Get out, this isn’t it!” Either way, it deserves to be heard.

So here’s your assignment: use it more. Stop outsourcing every decision to the group chat or spinning yourself into an anxious spiral of over-analysis. If something feels off, it probably is. If something feels right, you don’t need a five-point plan and external approval to go for it. You’re not being “dramatic” or “too sensitive”—you’re tuned in.

Trust your inner knowing like you’d trust a friend who’s always two steps ahead and never forgets to bring snacks. Your intuition doesn’t need to explain itself to be valid. It just is.

And yes, sometimes it’ll be wrong—but so are Google reviews and weather apps and half the people giving you advice on the internet. At least your intuition has your best interests at heart.

So go ahead. Listen to yourself. That voice in your gut? She’s got receipts you haven’t even seen yet.

Your Existence – The Fact That You’re Here, Right Now

Let’s get one thing straight: the fact that you’re even alive right now, in this moment, on this floating rock that’s spinning through the void while everyone pretends emails and matching socks matter? That’s wild. That’s miraculous. And yet—somehow—you still feel like you have to earn your place here by being useful, productive, attractive, agreeable, or otherwise tolerable to other people.

Nah. Screw that noise.

Your existence? That’s the damn prize. You don’t need to save lives, solve world hunger, or achieve inbox zero to be worthy of love, rest, joy, or basic respect. You’re not a subscription service—people don’t need to get constant updates and value-adds to justify your presence. You’re enough because you exist, not if you meet someone’s expectations.

So here’s the truth bomb: you can just be. Like, literally just exist. You don’t have to over-perform, over-explain, or contort yourself into some digestible, brand-safe version of “acceptable.” You’re not a TED Talk. You’re not an aesthetic. You’re not a productivity machine with Wi-Fi and trauma. You’re a human being with a pulse, a story, and a divine right to take up space—even if all you do today is breathe and exist in your comfiest hoodie while contemplating whether that one email really needs a reply. (Spoiler: it doesn’t.)

So use this truth more. Sit in it. Let yourself just be. No hustle. No apology. No invisible scorecard. Just you, existing, exactly as you are. And that? That’s more than enough. Always has been.

So, here’s your challenge, if you choose to accept it: Sit with those three things you appreciate about yourself—not what you do, not what you offer, not how you perform for the people around you. But who you are when no one’s watching. The stuff that would still be true even if you took a break from being everyone’s emotional support cryptid for five minutes.

Maybe it’s your curiosity. Your humor. Your resilience. Your ability to see beauty in weird places, or your refusal to quit even when life keeps throwing metaphorical Legos on the floor of your journey. Whatever it is, name it. Claim it. And then? Use it. Not just when someone else needs it—but when you do. Let those strengths show up in how you move through the world, how you talk to yourself, how you choose what actually matters.

Because the goal isn’t just to be “useful.” The goal is to be you—on purpose.

Thanks for pushing play on Shrink Wrapped. If this episode hit something tender in a good way, go ahead and rate, review, and share it with the people who see the real you and love you for it. And don’t forget to pop into the O’Neil Counseling app (there's a link in the show notes) to connect with other listeners who are out here doing the work too. I’ll catch you next week, when we're going to talk about dating therapists.. I mean, finding the right therapist for you. Until then, may your self-appreciation be loud, awkward, and wildly deserved.