To preface my analog experience, a short history of my friendship with Molly Mueller (a friend from Cornell) is necessary. We met the summer before our freshman year but, we lived a few hours apart and had no means of communication. Over the years we ran into each other a few times, but we were never given the chance to connect and get to know one another. We somehow started writing letters as our main form of communication roughly two years ago. These letters were sporadic as we both lead busy lives, yet, through these letters, we connected and got to know each other. As our lives are busier than ever, we have not written in several months. We talk on the phone occasionally, but our previous means of communication have become something of the past.

           When deciding my analog experience, I immediately wanted to write a letter, but letter writing is something I do often which contradicted the prompt of the exercise. However, after thinking a little more I realized I hadn’t written a letter since the summer, and even longer since I had written Molly. I decided to write Molly a letter, not the typical kind where we have a topic that we critically argue about, but one that would replace the phone calls we have now about our lives. As of late, our phone conversations consist of relationship or life advice when our emotional peace is disrupted. I devoted an hour at my desk, with my AirPods in, my diffuser diffusing lavender, and a cup of tea in hand to write this letter. I wanted it to replicate the therapeutic phone calls we’d been having.

           While therapeutic writing is something I do often in a personal journal, writing in the vulnerable state I wanted to replicate from our phone calls to someone was a challenge. At times I felt I should hold thoughts and feelings back. This was confusing as I am beyond comfortable sharing on the phone or in-person with her. The act of putting it on paper and sending it was slightly nerve-racking. As I talked myself out of being uncomfortable with the form in which I was sharing the emotions I had been feeling the words began to flow. I became excited that she would be able to read and reread to fully understand my view on what was going on. The realization that she could absorb the information and write back excited me in that she could develop her ideas in a way that is not possible on a 45-minute phone call.

           After I wrote the letter, which came out to be roughly four pages, I reread it to check for grammatical errors and to make sure it made some sense. I usually am all over the place when it comes to emotions that are not completely clear to me. The rereading of my letter was the most profound part of this analog experience. Since I journal regularly, I am used to writing about my feelings and emotions, but I never read over what I write. When I finish a notebook with entries it goes straight to a bin, I keep random sentimental objects in. As I read through what I had written I saw my emotions in a different light. This led me to grab a journal I had filled a few weeks ago and go through some entries. This was something I had never done before, and I was amazed by how closely the letter I had written, and my journal entries resembled each other. I had originally struggled with the idea of writing my emotions for someone else to read. I was surprised by how similar the flow and rhetoric were. The unconscious writing style that I had developed in my journal came through in this letter.

           Writing the letter rather than having a phone conversation became much more than fulfilling my analog experience. I found my style of writing reflected my journal writing style. Until this experience hadn’t recognized my particular journal writing style.