“You don’t need to call yourself a journaler,” the organiser tells us - “the emphasis is reflective writing.”
Hinterland is a CIC – Community Interest Company, and tonight - 13th August - is the second Journaling Club ran by the vegan restaurant. The main writing prompts revolved around the theme of The Stories we Tell Ourselves.
Prompt: ‘I came here because…’
I came here because the last group was really interesting. I got good practice with journaling and met some cool people. I’m always looking for something different to try out and I was in Manchester anyway after a restaurant trip with family. How do I make this interesting for the blog post? And why the fuck did I wear black on a hot day like this? Why not shorts? What a ridiculous decision. This is, however, a departure from the norm of cocktail bars, steak houses and the sports centre. I can’t stay in watching Viking dramas all week.
The organiser asked us where our ideas for journaling may come from, and what elements get filtered out or chosen either for writing or are just the thoughts we may have about ourselves. We came up with suggests as a group and I copied this from the flipchart:
Second journaling event at Hinterland Manchester, 13/8/25, this time on the theme 'The Stories we Tell Ourselves.'
— Matt Tuckey 🇬🇧 (@matttuckey.bsky.social) August 17, 2025 at 10:00 AM
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The next prompt: ‘I sometimes assume I’m the kind of person who…’
Isn’t smart enough to do what other people do. A lot of my colleagues do all sorts of work that I wouldn’t have a clue how to do. But then I remind myself that a lot of what other people do, they can because they can remember the processes, not because they have some innate ability that I lack. I have to remind myself that a psychologist I saw when I was 9 years old told me I had the reading age of a 14-year-old. That I got writing published in a local paper when I was 15. That I edited pre-recorded radio shows that went out on air when I was 22/23.
The facilitator here (at Hinterland) has asked us, ‘what’s underneath this?’ Mistakes I make due to memory are embarrassing. When you don’t get diagnosed til you’re 27, your character gets framed during a period when you don’t have any understanding of why you can’t do what you need to.
The gong is tapped, indicating the end of the writing time.
Next we’re given 4 prompts on the board to choose from:
If I allowed myself to let go of the story…
Short story: Once Upon a Time…
Letter: Dear…
Myth: There once lived someone brilliant…
Ideally, I’d have come up with something for ideas 2 3 or 4, but it just wasn’t happening, so I did what the NHS repeatedly tells me not to and ran around my own head, settling for the first idea.
If I allowed myself to let go of the story, I’d probably spend the rest of my days approaching every attractive woman I saw at all times. The story I hold is that I’m not going to be good enough. It’s a lifelong problem stemming from primary school, or mainly secondary. It’s such a stupid reason to live an unhappy life. I think I’d probably find the right person without the fear. I’ve done it so many times, though – broken through the fear and met people I’ve been enamoured with, only to find they’re from Lincoln, or they’re not that bothered.
The gong hits again. The organiser flips the chart. The new discussion points:
What does it mean to be part of a tribe or community?
What’s your role in the community?
How can I feel the feeling under the story?
How can I feel the story differently?
Dwelling in the feeling
Be with it.
After a chat on this, the session ends here.
Hinterland’s events offer up something different – an alcohol free environment, vegan food, engaging discussion, a good mix of people.