Would You Want Your Diary Read After You're Gone? Joan Didion, Legacy, and the Letters We Leave Behind

Would You Want Your Diary Read After You’re Gone? Joan Didion, Legacy, and the Letters We Leave Behind

When the New York Public Library opened the archive of Joan Didion and her husband John Gregory Dunne, it wasn’t just a literary treasure trove. It was an emotional excavation.

Tucked among screenplays, notes, and personal photographs were pages of Didion’s private therapy reflections—entries originally written to her husband during one of the most painful seasons of their lives. Notes to John is raw, intelligent, self-aware, and—most of all—deeply human. It reveals her grief, her motherhood fears, her regrets, and her haunting need to control what could never be controlled: life, death, and the emotional chaos in between.

But it also raises a profound question for the rest of us:

What happens to your private thoughts when you’re gone?

Most of us won’t have our diaries boxed and archived in a public library, but in the age of digital footprints, saved emails, handwritten letters, and even therapy journals, we all leave behind some kind of paper trail. The question is: who gets to read it, and what story does it tell?

This is where estate planning meets soul-searching.

When people think of estate planning, they often think of wills, trusts, and financial assets. But the truth is, your intellectual and emotional assets matter just as much. Didion’s diary may have been a gift to the literary world, but it was originally a private reflection. Her legacy now includes not just her polished essays, but her unfiltered fears and vulnerabilities.

For you, that might be a journal tucked in a nightstand, a box of old love letters, or a series of unsent emails you couldn’t bring yourself to delete. Maybe it’s a note to your children you never gave them. Maybe it’s a manuscript you’ve never shown anyone.

Estate planning isn’t just about dividing up what you leave behind. It’s about choosing how you want to be remembered. What do you want your loved ones to read, hear, or feel when you’re no longer here to explain yourself?

Ask yourself:

  • Do I want my personal writings to be shared?
  • Who would I trust to handle them with care?
  • Is there anything I’d want destroyed, protected, or preserved?
  • Should I leave a letter to my children, partner, or friends?
  • And most importantly—does my estate plan reflect those wishes?

Joan Didion wrote, “I dealt with everyone at a distance.” But even in that distance, her words reached out—aching to connect. She couldn’t protect her daughter from life, but she could write through her own grief, guilt, and growth.

Whether or not your diary ends up in a library, it deserves the same respect. So as you plan for what you’ll leave behind—don’t just think dollars and deeds. Think about the words you’ve written, the thoughts you’ve kept, and whether they’ll be your final whisper or the part of you that lives on.