What Happens When You Put Things Into Words (Even When You Don’t Know What to Say)

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it actually means to process something - versus simply getting on with it.

Most of us are very good at the latter. We carry things quietly. We cope. We function. We tell ourselves we’re fine - and often we genuinely believe it. But there’s a difference between managing an experience and actually completing it and I think that distinction matters more than we’re usually taught.

Why does talking about something help you feel better?

Research into expressive writing - the kind that’s raw and honest rather than polished or purposeful - has shown something that I find deeply resonant with what I see in the counselling room. When we put a difficult experience into words for the first time, something shifts. Not just emotionally

but physiologically. The nervous system, which had been quietly holding an experience as unfinished, gets to release it.

Things we were told to move on from, be strong about, or not dwell on - they don’t disappear just because we stop looking at them or with the passing of time. They settle into the body. They show up as tension, restlessness, a low or loud hum of anxiety that’s hard to name but surfaces as overthinking, ruminating thoughts, disturbed sleep, low mood or panic. The experience was never given a proper ending

so some part of us is still waiting for one.

What I notice in the counselling room

So often a client will begin talking about something maybe tentatively at first because they’ve never quite said it out loud and partway through, there comes a realisation, a gentle shift, as something alters. Not because I’ve offered an interpretation or a reframe. Simply because they’ve spoken it. Given it shape. Heard themselves say it in a space where it was safe to do so.

It’s not unusual for someone to arrive unsure of what they’ll talk about that day, perhaps even saying they almost didn’t come because there was “nothing in particular” to bring. And then, somewhere in the unfolding, something unexpected finds its way forward. Often, there’s a moment of quiet recognition - “I didn’t expect to talk about that today.” And that’s so often where the work is… not in what we plan to say but in what begins to emerge when there’s space for it.

And sometimes we’ll stay with that together - explore what the feeling is like, give it an image, a colour, a texture, a sound. Some metaphor that brings it to life even when the words aren’t quite there yet. The feeling comes alive in the room. And that’s where person-centred and emotion focused counselling can feel different from journaling alone - you have someone with you who is fully present with your experience, genuinely curious about how it has shaped you and your world, without judging or trying to fix. Just quietly beside you, in whatever has surfaced.

To sit with a feeling together and to know that whatever has surfaced is valid, and real and welcome - that’s the heart of person-centred work for me. The space isn’t structured around exercises or techniques - it’s focused around you. Whatever you bring, however it comes out, there’s no right way to do it. The freedom to meander, to contradict yourself, to not know what you’re trying to say until you say it - that’s not a flaw in the process. That is the process.

What tends to emerge in that space is often the thing that’s been waiting the longest. The feeling that never got named. The experience that was filed away before it was ever really finished.

How journaling can support your mental health

If you’re curious to try this for yourself, expressive writing is worth exploring and what I mean is genuinely unfiltered writing, not a gratitude list or a structured prompt. Just you, a page and whatever needs to come out. It doesn’t need to be coherent. It doesn’t need to go anywhere. The value isn’t in the reading back - it’s in the act of getting it out of your head and into language.

If you’re not sure where to start, that’s okay. Try beginning with just one word or even a doodle or drawing. A feeling. A place. A person. Anything that feels like it needs space. Sometimes, when there’s a lot to say, a stream of words or any written expression - unfiltered, unconnected - is enough to begin getting what’s inside out.

It can feel stirring at first, and that’s okay. You’re touching something that’s been settled. Give it some time. Most people find that what initially felt harder gradually quietens into something that feels lighter.

Managing and healing aren’t the same thing

I say this with a lot of warmth because I think most of us have managed brilliantly. But managing keeps us functioning - it doesn’t always set us free. Healing tends to happen when we finally let an experience be looked at, spoken about, witnessed.

That’s what talking therapy offers. Not answers, not advice - a space where you can finally say the thing, in whatever shape it’s in. And more often than not, that’s where something begins to shift.

If you’re curious about how I work, you can read a little more about me and my approach on my website.

A few questions people often wonder about

Do I need to know what I’m going to talk about in therapy?

Not at all. Many people arrive unsure

and the session unfolds from there. Often, what feels unclear at the start becomes something meaningful once there’s space to explore it.

Does journaling really help anxiety?

For many people, yes. Writing things down can help move thoughts and feelings out of your head and into language

which can reduce that sense of being overwhelmed or stuck.

What is person-centred counselling?

Person-centred counselling is a form of talking therapy that focuses on you as the expert in your own experience. Rather than directing or advising, the counsellor offers a space where you can explore things at your own pace, in your own way.

If something in this has resonated, you’re very welcome to get in touch to see if counselling feels like the right step for you.

When you’re ready, I’m here and we can begin wherever you find yourself.