Ink and Intention: A 30 Day Journaling Challenge
For those ready to write through what's heavy and hold space for what's healing
There’s something sacred about putting pen to paper.
This month, I’m inviting you to join me in a 30-day journaling challenge;
not for perfection, but for presence.
I’m calling it Ink and Intention because that’s exactly what this space is meant to hold: a return to the page, guided by honesty, curiosity, and compassion.
I’m doing this challenge as a way to be more intentional with my own writing;
to make space for the tangled threads of grief,
for moments of joy, for the quiet ache of transition,
and for all the unnamed feelings that live in the in-between.
Because sometimes, the creative block we feel isn’t just about not having time or energy, it’s the weight of everything we’re carrying.
The memories we haven’t fully processed.
The grief we’ve tucked into our bones.
The joy we haven’t felt safe enough to claim.
Journaling can be a way to unclog our creative portal.
A way to clear the fog, to move the stuckness, to find a rhythm again.
It’s not always pretty, but it’s always real.
And that’s what we need more of.
Daily prompts will be sent as short Substack chat messages, delivered directly to your inbox.
These are quick, intentional check-ins to support your reflection each day.
You’ll have the option to chime in, share your thoughts, or simply write privately, honestly whatever feels right for you.
Weekly essays will be shared as full posts here on Substack—deeper reflections based on a prompt, with room to comment and connect in community.
Now for the fun part: DAY ONEPrompt 1: What does healing look like for me right now?
Not what it used to look like. Not what it should look like.
Just… right now. In this version of me.
If you feel led, I’d love for you to introduce yourself in the comments.
Let us know where you’re journaling from, what brought you here, or simply share your heart.
Here’s a gentle question to break the ice:
What’s something small that’s been bringing you joy lately?
A warm drink? A song on repeat? A deep breath that landed just right?
This space is for you.
No pressure to perform, just an open invitation to be present.
And if this space is speaking to you and you’d like to support the work I’m doing here, becoming a paid subscriber is one way to help sustain it.It allows me to continue writing, creating, and caring for this community while also caring for my little ones. (And working in corporate)
But truly—just being here matters more than you know.
Let’s begin. I’m so glad you’re here.
Hi, I’m Carolina. I’m journaling from a small, shared room that somehow holds a whole world—my husband, our daughter, and me. I’m a writer, a new mom, and someone rediscovering faith one quiet moment at a time. I came here hoping to reconnect with parts of myself that got buried under survival mode.
Healing, right now, looks like slowness. Not transformation overnight, but gentle nudges back to center. It’s the moment I choose grace over guilt. It’s finishing a cup of coffee while my daughter naps. It’s writing again—even if just a single, shaky line.
Something small bringing me joy? The sun streaming in like a quiet affirmation that I’m still here. That’s enough for now.
Hi I’m Minyon. I am journaling from Georgia. I saw this post on threads yesterday and it took me to 11:20pm 5/1/2025 to decide to participate. I just paused to catch my daughter from falling off my bed, she’s learning to crawl and has no situational awareness lol but she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Don’t really know why I started crying when I haven’t even wrote anything yet, but I know I have to heal for her so I can make sure my cuts don’t bleed on her. I have a lot to unpack and I’m not even sure what I have buried deep, but it’s heavy and I feel it the most thinking about my daughter. I am hoping I can learn something new about myself and grow past the unspoken trauma. Happy to be here and see other women here to heal those parts of ourselves that we don’t show the rest of the world. Right now healing is a very foreign object to me that I wish to learn more about.