60 Days of Morning Pages (& counting...)
How Morning Pages Made Me a Morning Person (When Nothing Else Worked)
Ever since I can remember, my inner monologue has been relentless. As a kid, I assumed everyone had a constant stream of thoughts running in the background—until I later realized that’s not the case. Turns out, I’m a chronic overthinker.
For years, I struggled with mornings. Not just waking up early, but getting out of bed and facing the day. I’ve always been a night owl—3 AM bedtimes felt normal, and waking up before 11 AM felt like a disaster. But I also knew that daylight was essential to my well-being, and I wanted a routine that worked for me, not against me.
That’s when I started morning pages—not to become a morning person, but simply as an experiment to help me get going. I didn’t expect much. I definitely didn’t expect it to be life-changing. But here I am, waking up at 7 AM without an alarm—and, shockingly, loving it.
Filling an entire journal with morning pages feels like such a feat! Proof that small, daily actions add up to something bigger than you ever expect.
A Small Habit That Shifted Everything
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m great at starting things, but not always finishing them. Sticking with something daily? That’s never been my strong suit.
When I first started morning pages, it wasn’t exactly effortless. Some mornings, the words felt stuck. Others, I questioned whether I had anything to say at all. But I kept going. And the more I did, the easier it became.
What surprised me most was how much I began to need that space. Knowing I had a place where I could spill out my thoughts—unedited and unfiltered—became a tool I relied on. The more I showed up to the page, the more I wanted to. It wasn’t just about writing anymore; it was about having a safe space to let my thoughts exist outside of my head.
And somehow, that simple act of showing up—every single morning—made waking up easier, too.
Why I Really Struggled with Mornings
For years, my night owl tendencies were more than just a preference—they were a way of avoiding the crushing anxiety that hit me at night. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t sleep—I wouldn’t even let myself try. The moment I got in bed, my brain would start cycling through everything I had to do the next day. Responsibilities, expectations, the fear of letting someone down—it felt safer to just stay up. As if putting off sleep could somehow delay tomorrow from arriving.
When I worked traditional jobs, waking up wasn’t just about getting out of bed; it felt like an emotional mountain to climb. I had incredibly kind and understanding employers, yet I always felt like I was failing them. I never got fired, but there were times when I was pushing myself to a dangerous limit, trying to fit into a world that didn’t fit me back.
Those stories aren’t for this post, but I’ll just say—this wasn’t an “I don’t feel like going to work” thing. It was deeper than that. I tried to make it work. I wanted to make it work. But no matter how much I pushed myself, the struggle never got easier.
Even after working for myself, the pattern remained—but it wasn’t the same. Things were so much better once I gave myself space to realize and follow my dreams. Work that aligned with who I was meant to be. The weight of obligation wasn’t crushing me the way it once had. But old habits don’t just disappear overnight.
My body had gotten so accustomed to those years of stress and avoidance that I still found myself struggling with mornings—not because I dreaded my work, but because the act of waking up and shifting into the day still felt like a hurdle. The years of associating mornings with stress and pressure hadn’t just vanished. I needed something to help bridge that gap.
Enter: Morning Pages
I had heard of morning pages before, but I finally committed when I found out that my friend, Andrea, was going to guide her members of the Watch Learn Play Collective through Walking in this World (the book after The Artist’s Way by Juila Cameron starting in the new year. I figured it was worth a shot—if nothing else, I needed a better way to start my mornings than doom-scrolling on my phone.
I gave myself permission to write anything. Not a journal where I meticulously document my life. Not a memoir for some future reader. Just a brain dump—unedited, messy, and often repetitive. Some days, it’s nonsense. Other days, clarity emerges from the chaos.
And the unexpected part? Writing first thing in the morning helped me wake up earlier. Not because I forced myself to, but because I wanted to. I started looking forward to those 30 minutes entrenched in the pages of my journal.
From 11 AM Wake-Ups to Watching the Sunrise
When I started, waking up before 11 AM felt impossible. Now, I wake up between 7-8 AM without an alarm. I don’t stay in bed, lost in dread—I get up. And without the anxiety of trying to outrun the night, going to sleep has gotten easier, too.
Morning pages gave me something to wake up for—a way to ease into my day and get my mind and body aligned with what was ahead. Having a set practice first thing that wasn’t just jumping straight into work was vital. It gave me a transition, a way to step into my day on my terms.
I never set out to “fix” my mornings. But morning pages did exactly that.
So if you’re a fellow overthinker, a reluctant riser, or someone looking for a way to clear the mental clutter—give it a try. Not to be productive. Not to follow some perfect morning routine. Just to see what happens when you give yourself the space to write, without expectations.
It might just surprise you.
