Welcome to Week One of The Pages We Avoid, my four-week journaling series.
Each week begins with one main topic, followed by five connected journal prompts. The point isn’t to answer one deep question, close the journal, and pretend we have everything figured out. Each day’s prompt will build on the one before it so that, by the end of the week, we can see the fuller picture taking shape across the pages.
Since we’re on Day Two, I’m putting our first two prompts together so we can begin from the same place.
Day One: What Am I Pretending Not to Know?
There are things we truly don’t know yet—and then there are things we know but aren’t ready to admit.
Maybe admitting it would require a decision. Maybe it would change how we see someone, something, or even ourselves. Sometimes pretending not to know feels easier because once we name something, we can’t exactly go back to not knowing it.
For this first page, begin with:
If I stopped pretending, I would have to admit…
Don’t try to make your answer sound pretty, logical, or acceptable. Nobody else has to read this page. Let it be honest, even if the honesty is messy.
Day Two: What Do I Usually Do When I Get Close to Admitting This to Myself?
Now that we have begun naming what we may be avoiding, today we’re looking at the escape route.
What happens when you get too close to the truth?
Do you suddenly get busy? Change the subject? Make excuses? Convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal? Start questioning something you already know? Sometimes avoidance doesn’t look like avoidance. Sometimes it looks like overthinking, procrastinating, joking about it, or finding one more reason not to deal with it today.
For this page, begin with:
When I get close to admitting this to myself, I usually…
Then ask yourself:
What does this response protect me from feeling, facing, or changing?
You do not have to solve the entire situation today. Right now, we are simply noticing what is there and how we move away from it.
Tomorrow’s prompt will take us one step deeper by asking what we fear might change if we finally acknowledge what we already know.
One page at a time. No performing. Just honesty between you and the page.
Not the drawer filled with dead batteries, mystery keys, and pens that stopped working in 2017 although we probably have that one too. 😂
I mean the emotional junk drawer.
It holds the conversation we keep avoiding, the boundary we haven’t set, the grief we promised to revisit, the dream we keep postponing, and the need we keep calling “too much.”
We tuck things away because sometimes we genuinely don’t have the energy to deal with them.
But not right now can quietly become never.
Eventually, the drawer stops closing. An old resentment gets tangled around a new disagreement. A buried need shows up as frustration. One small moment produces a much larger reaction because it was never only about that moment.
It was everything already inside the drawer.
With the full moon and lunar eclipse approaching, perhaps we can allow a little light to reach one thing we’ve kept tucked away. Not because the moon is magically reorganizing our emotional lives if only but because awareness gives us somewhere to begin.
You don’t have to clean out the entire drawer today.
Choose one thing.
Name it. Write about why you tucked it away and what it needs from you now.
Does it need a conversation? A boundary? Rest? Grief? Or simply an honest acknowledgment that it still exists?
What we tuck away doesn’t disappear.
But we can decide what deserves our attention, what needs a proper place, and what we are finally ready to throw the hell out.
Journal Prompt
What needs to come out of my emotional junk drawer?
Begin with:
I keep telling myself I’ll deal with __________ later, but…
8/8 is almost here, and whether you believe in the energy of the day, use it as a reset, or simply like having a reason to pause and reflect, I think it’s a good time to check in with yourself.
And no, this does not mean you have to completely change your life before August 8th.
These are just eight small things you can do to clear some space, quiet some noise, and think about what you want for the rest of the year.
1. Declutter one space
Just ONE. A drawer, your bag, your desk. Pick somewhere that needs a little attention and clean it out. Sometimes clearing a small space makes you feel lighter without even realizing you needed it.
2. Unfollow what drains you
If an account constantly has you comparing yourself, questioning yourself, or just feeling blah after you see it, unfollow it. Your social media should not make you feel worse about your own life.
3. Donate 8 things you don’t use
Find eight things sitting around that you haven’t used in months and let them go. Someone else may actually need what has just been taking up space in your home.
4. Sit in silence for 8 minutes
No phone. No music. No distractions. Just sit with yourself for eight minutes and see what comes up. You might be surprised by what your mind has been trying to tell you.
5. Write down 8 things you’re proud of
We spend so much time thinking about what we haven’t done that we forget what we HAVE done. Look back at this year and give yourself some credit. Big or small, write eight things that make you proud.
6. Reach out to someone
You know that person you’ve been saying, “I need to text them” about? Do it. If they’ve been on your mind and the relationship feels good and safe, send the message.
7. Do something your future self will thank you for
It can be something as small as saving a few dollars, making an appointment, filling out an application, or finally doing something you’ve been putting off.
Nothing huge. Just one thing.
8. Choose one intention for the rest of the year
What do you really want to give your energy to from now until the end of the year?
Write it down.
Then ask yourself:
What is one thing I can do TODAY to move toward it?
That’s it.
No pressure to magically become a different person because it’s 8/8. This is simply a chance to pause, clear out some things you don’t need, appreciate how far you’ve already come, and decide where you want to go next.
Sometimes a reset doesn’t have to be huge.
Sometimes it starts with one drawer, eight quiet minutes, a journal page, and one decision to keep moving forward.
First, can we take a moment because we made it to week four!
Thank you to everyone who keeps coming back each week to reflect and write with me. Whether you have answered every prompt, skipped one, or saved them all for when you finally have a quiet moment, I appreciate you being here.
There is no right or wrong way to do this. The fact that you are taking a moment to check in with yourself matters
This weeks Prompt:
Whose voice do you hear when you criticize yourself?
I came across a shadow work prompt that made me stop and think about the way we speak to ourselves.
We can be so hard on ourselves without ever questioning where those words came from.
That voice saying you are not good enough, you always mess things up, or you should be further along by now, is that really your voice?
Or is it something someone said to you so many times that you eventually started saying it to yourself?
That is the part that gets me. Sometimes the person is no longer around.
The moment has passed. We may even believe we have moved on, but their words are still living inside us and showing up whenever we feel insecure, make a mistake, or try something new.
After a while, their voice starts sounding like our own.
And because it sounds familiar, we believe it.
This prompt is not about blaming anyone or forcing yourself to suddenly think positively. It is simply about paying attention.
When that critical voice shows up, pause and ask where you first heard it.
You may realize that some of the things you believe about yourself were never yours to begin with.
Maybe your own voice has been buried underneath everyone else’s opinions for so long that you are not sure what it sounds like yet. That is okay too.
Perhaps it starts with something simple:
I am trying.
I am learning.
I deserved more kindness than that.
The goal is not to silence every negative thought overnight. It is to recognize which voice belongs to you and which one you are finally ready to stop believing.
Be gentle with yourself as you write. Some voices have been with us for a long time, but that does not mean they get to speak for us forever.
Some months begin with clear plans. Others begin with exhaustion, uncertainty, or the quiet feeling that something needs to change, even when we cannot name what it is.
These 31 Journal Therapy prompts were created to offer one small moment of reflection each day.
They are not about forcing an answer, fixing your entire life, or filling several pages.
Each prompt is simply an invitation to pause and notice what is happening within you and around you.
You can write for five minutes, fill an entire page, or answer with a single honest sentence. There is no correct way to complete the challenge.
Begin on the first day of the month, choose the question that speaks to you, or move through the prompts at your own pace.
I’ll be sure to share my own progress,as of course I’ll be is in the prompts myself.
31 Days of Journal Therapy
What deserves more room in my life this month?
Where have I been spending energy without noticing?
What feels easier than it did a month ago?
What part of my routine needs a small adjustment?
When do I feel most present during an ordinary day?
What have I been making more complicated than necessary?
Which feeling have I had difficulty naming lately?
What is one choice I can make without explaining it?
Where could I use more structure in my life?
What has been quietly helping me lately?
What do I need before I can fully focus?
Which responsibility feels heavier than it should?
What am I currently making space to learn?
When did I last feel pleasantly surprised by myself?
What would make this week feel more manageable?
Where am I asking too much of myself at once?
What conversation keeps continuing inside my head?
Which part of my day feels most like mine?
What have I recently discovered that I genuinely enjoy?
Where could I be more specific about what I need?
What does my body seem to be requesting today?
Which decision would benefit from more patience?
What am I doing out of habit rather than intention?
What would I like to experience more often this month?
Where have I noticed a change in my reactions?
What am I ready to approach differently?
Which small task would give me the most relief today?
What has my attention but not my commitment?
What boundary would make my days feel less crowded?
What did this month reveal about the way I live?
What do I want to remember as I enter the next month?
Before You Close Your Journal
You do not need to leave these 31 days with every answer figured out.
The whole point of these prompts is to go within.
The value is in noticing what appeared on the page: the thoughts that repeated, the needs you finally named, and the small truths that became clearer as you wrote.
Let the final page be a beginning rather than an ending. Return to any prompt that still has more to say.
Which question are you beginning with?
Journal Therapy is a reflective writing practice and is not a substitute for professional mental health care.
Tired? Keep going. Overwhelmed? Handle what needs to be handled first. Something feels off? Deal with it later.
Except “later” has a way of becoming never.
Sometimes the body notices what we are carrying before we are willing or able to put it into words. The jaw tightens. The shoulders become heavy. The stomach feels unsettled. Breathing becomes shallow without us even realizing it.
Meanwhile, we are still walking around saying, “I’m fine.”
This week’s prompt is not about assigning an emotional meaning to every ache or physical sensation. Sometimes discomfort is simply physical and needs proper medical attention.
This is about pausing long enough to notice yourself.
This Week’s Prompt
What has your body been trying to tell you lately?
Before you begin writing, take one quiet minute and notice how your body feels.
Where are you holding tension?
What feels heavy, restless, warm, numb, or unexpectedly calm?
Do not immediately try to fix it. Do not worry about whether your answer makes sense. Simply begin with:
If my body could speak, it would say…
Maybe it would ask for rest.
Maybe it would admit that something has become too heavy.
Maybe it would tell you that you feel safe, loved, or finally at peace.
Maybe it has been trying to say something you have been too busy to hear.
And maybe you will sit with the page and hear absolutely nothing at first. That is okay too.
Noticing is still a beginning.
We ask our bodies to carry us through so much. This week, let’s give them a moment to speak.
Please forgive me I thought I had posted this earlier in the week. It’s been an interesting one, but I’m back on the groove. I hope you enjoy. Thanks again for stopping by.
Back with another reflection for you.
Some weeks ask us to dig deep. Others simply ask us to notice.
Growth doesn’t always arrive with dramatic breakthroughs.
Sometimes it appears in the quiet moments: the conversation you almost avoided, the boundary you finally honored, the feeling you allowed instead of pushing away.
This week’s prompt is an invitation to pause and listen to the version of yourself that’s emerging now.
Take your time. There are no perfect answers here.
Only an opportunity to meet yourself with honesty and compassion.
And I don’t know about you, but that number made me stop for a second.
We are more than halfway through the year.
Remember those goals we wrote down in January? The promises we made to ourselves? The things we swore this year would be different about?
Where are we with them?
I’m asking myself the same question.
This isn’t about beating ourselves up for what we haven’t accomplished. But I do think it’s time to buckle down. To be honest with ourselves. To look at the year so far and ask:
What have I actually done with the goals I said mattered to me?
So, I’m making a conscious effort to share one journal prompt every week.
But I don’t want to just throw a pretty prompt onto the internet and disappear.
I’m going to work with the prompt too.
Throughout the week, I’ll sit with it, write through it, and see what comes up. Then, at the end of the week, I’ll come back and share some of what I wrote.
I’m doing this alongside you.
For week one, I’m asking:
What part of yourself have you been quietly trying to return to?
Will you give yourself those 5 minutes?
Maybe week 29 is the week we stop waiting for January to try again.
There was a season where I kept showing up to my own life like a stranger. Going through every motion. Doing every task. And still feeling like I was disappearing.
Are ready to reset?
I want to be honest with you about that season, because I think you might know it too. The alarm goes off before sunrise. You make everybody else’s morning happen.
You hold the house, hold the family, hold the job, hold your tongue when you’re tired. And somewhere in the middle of all that holding, you forget to hold yourself.
That’s where this journal came from. Not from a place of having it figured out. From a place of being in it.
I needed something that would meet me where I actually was. Not where I was supposed to be.
I’ve been on a path toward becoming a journal therapy practitioner. That work cracked something open in me, because it showed me that writing isn’t just creative expression.
It’s a way of locating yourself. A way of asking: what do I actually think? What do I actually feel? What do I actually need right now, underneath all this noise?
And I realized I had never given myself seven consecutive days to just answer those questions.
seven days
That’s what 7 Days of Alignment is. It’s a guided digital journal, and each day has a specific focus: how you’re showing up, what you’re carrying, what you’re ready to put down, what you actually want. Real prompts. Not surface-level. Not “write three things you’re grateful for.” The kind of questions that make you sit with the pen for a second before you answer.
Seven days is not a transformation. I won’t promise you that. But it is a reorientation. And sometimes that’s the only thing standing between you and your own life.
I priced it at $7. On purpose. Because I know what it’s like to want something for your mental health and not be able to justify the cost. Seven dollars is a coffee. It’s a single song download. It’s the smallest investment you could make in yourself this week. I wanted the price to never be the reason someone didn’t try.
If you’ve been running on empty and wondering why nothing feels aligned, this is the place to start.
I’m not going to tell you this will fix everything. Life keeps moving, the lease still needs to be handled, the bills still arrive. But when you know where you stand inside yourself, you navigate all of it differently. You stop reacting from exhaustion and start responding from something steadier.
That’s what seven days gave me. I want that for you too.
