30 journaling prompts for august
A collection of honest prompts to hold onto the last light of summer and clear space for what’s next.
thank you for being here again,
nia
I don’t think I’ve ever received as many heartfelt, personal, and beautifully honest comments as I did after the July prompts. So many of you said it was your first time ever journaling, and that these little questions helped you begin. And to those of you who shared that you’ve been journaling for years but finally felt like something clicked after a long time: thank you. I’ve read every word, and I’ve held them close.
This is exactly why we’re here again.
Truth is, I haven’t journaled in about two weeks. Life got busy. My head got loud. And honestly, there’s also something deeper, something I think many of us feel but rarely say out loud:
Sometimes I hold back from journaling because I’m scared of what I’ll write. Scared that once the words are on paper, they’ll be real. Scared that maybe, just maybe, someone, even if no one’s there besides the empty pages, is listening.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How easy it is to say something in our heads, but how hard it becomes once it touches the page. It feels as if writing it down makes it heavier. More permanent. More true. I’ve even caught myself censoring my own journal, and it’s just me and the page.
But as we’ve discovered together last month, journaling isn’t about performance. It’s about release, and letting the thoughts out before they pile up too high to climb over. And one way to get to that honesty, the kind that clears your mind, not just fills a notebook, is through something called shadow work.
Shadow work is a way of gently looking at the parts of ourselves we tend to avoid. The insecurities, the habits, the memories that still sting.
So this month, I’ve split the prompts into two parts:
First, you’ll find the shadow work prompts, the ones that ask a little more from you, but also give a lot back. The ones that might sit heavy on your chest, but make space once they’re out.
Then, we’ll move into the gentler reflective prompts, which are a mix of light and deep, sweet and searching. You can move through them however you want. One a day. A few at a time. Or just the ones that speak to you.
August is a beautiful transition; it still holds the softness of summer, but it’s already softly whispering about September. Let’s use this time to be honest with ourselves, even just a little. Let’s say the quiet things, just for us.
Let’s begin.
Shadow work is about meeting the parts of ourselves we often hide, sometimes even from ourselves. These prompts aren’t here to push you into discomfort. They’re here to guide you through it. You don’t have to answer them all. You don’t have to go in order. Just go with what feels like it’s asking to be heard.
What part of myself do I hide from others — and why?
What am I insecure about right now, and where did that insecurity come from?
What am I jealous of? What does that jealousy teach me about what I truly want?
What is holding me back from living the life I actually want?
How do I usually numb or distract myself when I’m overwhelmed?
What emotion do I avoid feeling, and what scares me about it?
What belief do I carry about myself that might not be true?
Do I trust myself to make good decisions? Why or why not?
What patterns keep repeating in my life, and what might they be trying to teach me?
What version of myself am I trying to protect by not changing?
What’s one thing I need to forgive myself for, even if I’m not ready to say it out loud?
How do I respond when I feel misunderstood, and where does that reaction come from?
What values do I hold, and am I truly living by them?
What memory do I avoid thinking about because it still hurts?
If I stopped trying to be liked by everyone, what would I do differently?
Now that we’ve cracked open the heavier ones, let’s take a breath. These next prompts are a little lighter. Some reflective. Some hopeful. Some just fun to answer when the sky’s pink and you’re not in the mood to emotionally unravel for two hours.
Think of these as your late-summer companion. The ones you reach for when your thoughts are bubbling but you don’t know where to start. The ones that help you check in, realign, daydream a little, right before the coziness (or chaos) of autumn arrives.
What can I let go of, just for now, to make space for something new?
What would I do differently if I felt 10% more confident?
What do I need to stop saying yes to, even when I don’t want to?
What would happen if I stopped overthinking and just acted?
What’s my definition of success, not society’s, mine?
Where is my safe space? (It can be real, imaginary, or both.)
What relationships in my life do I want to nurture more intentionally?
What childhood hobbies made me feel pure joy, and do I still make space for them?
What do I want to be remembered for, even if just by the people closest to me?
What are three things I’m genuinely excited about this month?
What’s something I’ve been meaning to say but haven’t found the words for yet?
What kind of person do I want to grow into — gently, over time?
How do I feel at the end of the day lately? And what’s missing or working?
What moment from this summer do I want to carry into autumn like a warm pocket memory?
How do I want this month to feel?
If you’ve made it this far, whether you’re already scribbling into your journal or just quietly thinking about doing it, I’m so glad you’re here.
These prompts are invitations, like gentle little doorways to open when you’re ready. Some days you’ll write a lot, and some days you won’t write at all. That’s okay.
August still feels golden. There’s sun in the evenings. The fruit tastes better. There are sandals by the door and late dinners outside. But you can feel it too, can’t you? The shift. The slow stretch into something softer. The air changes. The light folds in earlier. You start reaching for blankets without thinking.
Autumn is coming, and with it, a new kind of rhythm. A season that, for many, feels like returning home to yourself.
So take these prompts with you wherever August leads you. Journal on the train. On the beach. In the quiet of your room. Write something true, even if it’s messy.
You’re not behind. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just beginning again, as many times as you need to.
With love,
Nia
i love this, and actually already used one of the prompts.
“what can i let go of, to make space for something new?”
‘so i suppose im letting go of manufactured joy, and learning how to feel it for real.’
Ah, this just felt like a little love letter to start off a new month. 💌 Thank you for taking the time to craft this list for us. It is so greatly appreciated. 🩶