self improvement

10 Journaling Prompts That Changed My Mindset


By Selene Hart – For the women figuring it out as they go

Let’s be real: I didn’t start journaling because I’m naturally reflective or woke up craving “inner clarity.” I started because my brain felt like a browser with 32 tabs open and two of them were playing music I couldn’t find.

I was spiraling in burnout, overthinking every text I sent, and quietly comparing myself to women who seemed like they had it all figured out. Spoiler alert: they don’t. And neither do I. But journaling helped me find small pieces of peace, clarity, and—shockingly—myself.

These 10 journaling prompts didn’t just help me. They changed me. Slowly. Softly. And honestly, sometimes messily. But they were the beginning of me becoming someone I actually liked.

So, if you’ve got a pen, a half-used notebook, and a slightly tired soul—this is for you.


🌙 1. “What would I do if I trusted myself completely?”

This one hit me in the gut. Because for years, I didn’t. I asked everyone else for advice—my friends, my therapist, Google (especially Google).

But writing this prompt cracked something open. When I answered without judgment, I realized… I usually do know. I just don’t always listen.

🖊 Try it: Let yourself answer like no one else will read it. You’ll be surprised how wise you already are.


💭 2. “Where in my life am I settling—and why?”

Oof. I avoided this one for weeks. It’s the emotional equivalent of cleaning under your bed. But when I did it, I saw how much I was tolerating—situations, people, even my own self-talk—that didn’t align with who I wanted to be.

🖊 Try it: Write without fixing. Awareness comes before action.


💌 3. “If my inner child wrote me a letter, what would she say?”

This one made me cry. And not the cute, dewy-tear Instagram kind. Full-on ugly cry. Because the younger version of me didn’t want success or aesthetics—she wanted peace, love, fun, and to feel like she mattered.

🖊 Try it: Don’t overthink. Just imagine that little girl talking to you now.


🔥 4. “What am I really angry about that I pretend doesn’t bother me?”

Listen, I’m a recovering people-pleaser who hates conflict, so I used to bury anger with “it’s fine” and iced coffee. But this prompt? Gave me permission to be messy, real, and honest.

🖊 Try it: Rage on the page. Let it out so it doesn’t leak out sideways later.


✨ 5. “What does feminine energy mean to me—without the Pinterest version?”

For a while, I thought feminine energy meant floating around in a silk robe whispering affirmations. Then I realized, for me, it was softness with boundaries. It was slowing down, listening to my body, letting myself receive.

No glitter. No goddess filter. Just presence.

🖊 Try it: Define it for yourself—not for your feed.


🌿 6. “What season of life am I in—and what does that version of me need most?”

This one changed how I talk to myself. I stopped expecting “summer me” results during a deep winter season. I realized healing isn’t linear, and hustle isn’t holy.

🖊 Try it: Are you blooming, shedding, resting, or rebuilding? Each season asks something different of you.


💔 7. “What am I grieving that no one knows about?”

Grief isn’t just death. It’s losing a dream. A version of yourself. A friendship that quietly faded. This prompt helped me name the quiet aches I’d been carrying like emotional clutter.

🖊 Try it: Let the page hold your unspoken grief.


🌅 8. “What would my life look like if I deeply believed I was already enough?”

This one shook me. Because I realized how many things I was doing to prove something—to myself, to others, to an imaginary judge in the sky. Writing this helped me step off the hamster wheel.

🖊 Try it: Describe that enough-life. Then ask: Can I give myself any of that today?


🥣 9. “What does self-care actually look like for me right now?”

Some days it’s a walk in the sun. Some days it’s cereal for dinner and texting “I can’t talk today” without guilt. This prompt made me redefine self-care as compassion, not performance.

🖊 Try it: Be brutally honest. You’re not writing a wellness ad—you’re writing for you.


🪞10. “If I treated myself like someone I loved… what would I do differently?”

This one. This one. The prompt that made me realize I was kind to everyone—except myself. I wouldn’t say half the things I thought about myself to my best friend. So why was I letting them echo in my own head?

🖊 Try it: Write like you’re talking to someone you cherish. Then act like that person is you.


💬 Final Thoughts from a Work-in-Progress

I’m not a journaling queen with 5am routines and bulletproof boundaries. I still have days where I avoid my journal like it’s asking for a kidney. But these 10 prompts? They meet me where I’m at. Messy. Moody. Trying.

Journaling isn’t about being “healed”—it’s about being honest.

And when I let myself be honest on the page, I find the version of me I actually like. The one who’s soft and strong. Tired but still trying.

If any of these prompts speak to you—start there. You don’t need perfect handwriting or a fancy notebook. Just you, a pen, and a little willingness to look inward.

You’re doing better than you think.

— Selene 🌙

Author

  • I’m Selene. I’m 35, married to my college sweetheart, and living in Nashville with a backyard I’m pretending is a garden. My life used to be full of burnout, people-pleasing, and crying in parking lots—until I started healing (slowly, messily, and not always gracefully). I write about self-growth in a way that doesn’t feel fake or preachy. Some days I meditate, other days I doom-scroll and eat ice cream out of the tub. But I believe we all deserve peace, permission to be human, and tools that actually help when life gets heavy.

I’m Selene. I’m 35, married to my college sweetheart, and living in Nashville with a backyard I’m pretending is a garden. My life used to be full of burnout, people-pleasing, and crying in parking lots—until I started healing (slowly, messily, and not always gracefully). I write about self-growth in a way that doesn’t feel fake or preachy. Some days I meditate, other days I doom-scroll and eat ice cream out of the tub. But I believe we all deserve peace, permission to be human, and tools that actually help when life gets heavy.