Hey Dana Jane

Tag: healing

  • The Doer’s Dilemma: Remembering Self-Care in the Chaos

    Hey there, fellow doers! You know who you are – the ones who always seem to have a never-ending to-do list, the go-getters, the fixers, the ones who somehow manage to keep everything together even when it feels like the world is falling apart. Yes, you, the unsung heroes of everyday life.

    Let’s talk about something that often gets overlooked in the hustle and bustle of constantly doing for others – self-care. Yep, that thing we all know we should be doing but often push to the bottom of our priorities because, well, there’s just so much to do, right?

    I get it. I’m guilty of it myself. As someone who tends to take on a lot and put others’ needs before my own, I know firsthand how easy it is to forget about self-care. But here’s the thing – neglecting ourselves in favor of taking care of others isn’t sustainable. Eventually, it catches up with us, leaving us feeling exhausted, burnt out, and frankly, not very effective at helping others.

    So, why do we do it? Why do we put our own needs on the back burner in favor of helping everyone else? Well, for starters, it’s often because we genuinely care about the people around us (or, if you’re like me, you were conditioned from a young age to believe your self-worth is tied to how much you do for others). Whether it’s family, friends, coworkers, or even strangers, we want to make a difference in their lives, and sometimes that means sacrificing our own well-being in the process.

    But here’s the reality check – we can’t pour from an empty cup. In other words, if we’re not taking care of ourselves, we’re not going to be able to effectively take care of others either. It’s like trying to drive a car without ever stopping to refuel – eventually, you’re going to run out of gas.

    So, how do we break the cycle of putting others first and neglecting ourselves? Well, it starts with a mindset shift. We need to recognize that self-care isn’t selfish – it’s necessary. Just like we wouldn’t expect a car to run without gas, we can’t expect ourselves to keep going without taking time to recharge.

    Self-care looks different for everyone, so it’s important to find what works best for you. Whether it’s carving out time for exercise, practicing mindfulness and meditation, indulging in a hobby you love, or simply taking a moment to breathe and relax, prioritize activities that nourish your mind, body, and soul.

    It’s also important to set boundaries and learn to say no when necessary. We can’t be everything to everyone, and that’s okay. Learning to prioritize our own needs doesn’t make us any less caring or compassionate – in fact, it makes us better able to show up for the people who need us most.

    So, to all the doers out there – keep doing what you do best, but don’t forget to take care of yourselves along the way. You deserve it, and trust me, the world will thank you for it.

  • The Art of Letting Go

    Today, amidst the chaos of my thoughts and the relentless pursuit of what I believe my life should resemble, I stumbled upon a profound realization: the art of letting go.

    “Just let go,” the words echoed in the caverns of my mind, resonating with a depth I had not encountered before. How often do we cling to the illusions of our desires, the meticulously crafted blueprints of our futures, only to find ourselves tangled in the intricate web of our expectations? How many times do we stubbornly hold onto the fragments of what we believe should be, blinding ourselves to the beauty of what actually is?

    In this moment of reflection, I am reminded of the inherent beauty in surrendering to the ebb and flow of life’s unpredictable currents. There is a certain grace in releasing the tight grip of control and allowing the universe to unfold its mysteries before me.

    “Let go of how you thought your life should be,” the whisper persists, urging me to release the shackles of preconceived notions and societal constructs that confine my spirit. It is a call to liberation, a liberation that stems from embracing the inherent fluidity of existence.

    And as I stand at the precipice of this revelation, I am met with the gentle embrace of acceptance. For in letting go of the illusions of my mind, I open myself to the infinite possibilities that dance on the horizon of my consciousness. I welcome the serendipitous encounters, the unforeseen twists and turns, knowing that each moment holds within it the potential for growth and transformation.

    So today, I choose to embrace the life that is trying to work its way into my consciousness. I surrender to the rhythm of the universe, allowing its symphony to guide me along the path of authenticity and self-discovery. And in this surrender, I find solace, for I am no longer bound by the constraints of expectation. Instead, I am free to wander the vast expanse of my existence, embracing each moment with an open heart and an unwavering trust in the journey that lies ahead.

  • Navigating Spiritual Abuse and Rediscovering Faith: My Journey of Healing

    In the realm of family dynamics, the influence of faith and spirituality can be both a source of comfort and a tool for manipulation. For many, the family serves as the primary vessel through which religious beliefs are transmitted. However, when those beliefs are used to control and manipulate, the effects can be deeply damaging. This is the story of my journey through spiritual abuse within my family of origin, how I broke free from its grip, and how I eventually found healing and renewed faith.

    Growing up in a family where faith was central, I was raised to revere authority figures, especially those within the religious context. In my family, it was instilled in me that anyone with “authority” over me was essentially speaking God’s word. This belief set the stage for an environment where unquestioning obedience was expected, and deviation from family-defined norms was met with guilt and shame. The lines between divine guidance and personal agendas blurred, leaving me vulnerable to manipulation.

    As a young girl, I experienced a form of spiritual abuse that messed with my perspective on forgiveness and self-worth. Despite Catholic teachings about confession and redemption, I was made to believe that my mistakes were somehow beyond forgiveness, that my sins were an unshakable mark of shame. This led me to constantly feel this overwhelming pressure to be flawless, to maintain this image of perfection that was impossible to uphold. But as humans do, I made mistakes along the way, and each time I stumbled, it felt like the world was crashing down. I couldn’t escape this feeling of worthlessness and irredeemability, like I was just a lost cause. Breaking free from that mindset has been a journey, one that involves reshaping my understanding of spirituality and self-acceptance.

    One of the most damaging aspects of my experience was the misuse of scripture as a means of control. My family would selectively extract verses to reinforce their ideals and manipulate me into conforming to their vision of what my life should be. This manipulation often took the form of guilt-inducing messages, leaving me feeling spiritually obligated to adhere to their expectations. This ultimately led me to a point where I stopped attending Mass altogether, unable to bear the weight of their skewed interpretations of faith.

    Recognizing the toxicity of the situation, I realized the importance of setting healthy boundaries with family members who were intent on molding me into a role that didn’t align with my authentic self. It was a challenging and necessary step to redefine the boundaries of our relationship, asserting my autonomy and refusing to be constrained by their expectations. This process was both liberating and painful, as I confronted the discomfort of asserting my own beliefs and values.

    Walking away from the abuse was just the first step. Over time, I began to rebuild my relationship with God on my terms. Slowly, I started attending Mass again, this time with a newfound sense of agency. But it was through the Alpha program that I truly began to deconstruct the distorted perspectives of how Christianity should be practiced. Alpha provided a safe space to ask questions, challenge assumptions, and rediscover spirituality in an authentic and transformative way.

    My journey through spiritual abuse within my family of origin was marked by manipulation, control, and the courage to break free. The conditioning that led me to equate authority with divine truth proved to be a tangled web that required careful unraveling. Through the process of setting boundaries and seeking healing, I learned that faith is a deeply personal journey—one that should empower and uplift, rather than restrict and confine.

    If you find yourself entangled in a similar situation, remember that you have the right to define your relationship with God, and your faith, on your terms. Setting boundaries with family members who seek to shape your identity is an act of self-preservation and a step towards reclaiming your autonomy. Just as I found healing and renewed faith through the Alpha program, there are resources available to help you navigate your own journey towards spiritual freedom and authentic connection.

  • Navigating Boundaries: A Personal Reflection on Parental Involvement in Marriage

    Marriage is a union between two people who are committed to share their lives, hopes, and dreams. While family plays an essential role in our lives, it’s crucial to maintain healthy boundaries to ensure the growth and harmony of the marital relationship. Unfortunately, not all parents fully understand the importance of these boundaries, as evidenced by personal experiences like that of my own with my family of origin.

    I met my husband when I was working as a bartender at my father’s tavern. My husband knew my father before he met me. Prior to our marriage, my husband and father had shared a friendship that spanned several years. Their bond was built on shared experiences, laughter, and trust. My dad witnessed the budding romance between my husband and me. He was there during the early stages of our relationship, often giving advice and support (sometimes whether we wanted it or not).

    However, as our relationship evolved into marriage, the dynamics shifted. I had not yet confronted the trauma and lack of boundaries in my childhood. Family enmeshment was normal to me, I didn’t know any different. I was not fully aware of the controlling behaviors my parents displayed in my childhood, nor was I keen to recognize they had carried over into my adulthood. My father’s investment in my relationship with my husband led to his desire to maintain the same level of involvement, and control, as he had before my marriage.

    My husband, now a partner in our marital union, had naturally assumed the role of being my primary source of support, understanding, and companionship. My parents struggled to adjust to this change. In their mind I was obligated to put my family of origin first. They believed that because they had always been the ones to provide support and advice they should be entitled to continue doing so. The entry of a new figure into this role proved to be challenging to reconcile. I was often caught in the middle, torn between my loyalty to my husband and the implied obligation to my parents.

    As events unfolded regarding my childhood trauma, tensions began to rise. My parents involvement in my marriage, and in my husband’s and my decision-making processes, became a source of contention. My husband felt his role as my spouse was being undermined. After many difficult conversations between us, I finally understood how he felt in the early years of our marriage; that I had given up too much control to my parents and still continued to defer to them out of perceived guilt or obligation..

    The Challenge of Overinvolved Parents:

    In my case, my father had expressed a strong desire to be actively involved in my marriage, often going beyond the lines of respectful involvement. He believes he has the right to interfere, making demands for me to confess my personal struggles or share details about my relationship, our finances, and how we raise our children. This behavior reflects a belief in his entitlement to control aspects of my life that should rightly remain between my partner and me.

    Respecting Boundaries: A Two-Way Street:

    Respecting boundaries is a two-way street that involves both parties acknowledging and honoring each other’s personal space, decisions, and privacy. While parents naturally worry about their children’s well-being, it’s essential for them to understand that adulthood and marriage mark a transition to independent life choices. As adults, we deserve the autonomy to make decisions about our relationships, without feeling obligated to share every detail with our parents.

    There are struggles in my marriage that are private. The matters my husband and I discuss, the arguments we have, the issues we have faced, are between us. I must respect my husband’s wishes to keep certain aspects of our marriage private. This decision helps us protect and nurture our relationship and create an environment of trust and openness between us. Our priority is to strengthen our connection and keep external influences out of our marriage.

    Communication is Key:

    Addressing such a delicate situation with parents requires open and honest communication. Expressing how their behavior affects you and your relationship can help parents understand the impact of their actions. Sharing your perspective calmly and assertively can pave the way for them to acknowledge your feelings and hopefully, adjust their behavior accordingly.

    Setting Healthy Boundaries:

    Setting boundaries is not about pushing parents away, but rather about defining what is acceptable and respectful behavior. Boundaries are personal limits that we set for ourselves in various areas of our lives, including relationships, emotions, time, and physical space. Boundaries are essential for maintaining our own well-being, self-respect and healthy relationships.

    If conversations fail to yield positive results and parents continue to overstep boundaries, consider seeking the support of a therapist or counselor. They can offer guidance on navigating these complex family dynamics and help both you and your parents understand each other’s perspectives better.

    Balancing the roles of being a spouse and a child can be challenging, especially when dealing with parents who struggle to respect personal boundaries. It’s essential to remember that building a successful marriage requires space, trust, and autonomy. Through open communication and a commitment to fostering healthy boundaries, we can strive for a harmonious coexistence that respects the sanctity of both our marital and familial relationships. While it’s undeniable that parents hold a special place in our lives, it’s equally important to respect the boundaries that come with adulthood and the establishment of new families. As we navigate this delicate terrain, remember that open communication, assertiveness, and a united front with your partner can help set and reinforce these boundaries.

  • Unveiling the Mask: Breaking Free from the Chains of Abuse and Dysfunction

    In the intricate tapestry of human relationships, the bonds we share with family are meant to be sources of solace, love, and support. Yet, for me, the reality is starkly different. The courageous act of sharing my journey of coping with emotional and spiritual abuse at the hands of family members is an act of breaking free from the suffocating confines of manipulation and control. The goal of this post is to delve into the profound complexities of dealing with such abuse and the transformative power of shedding light on these dark corners.

    Facing the intricate interplay of emotional and spiritual abuse from within the family can be a harrowing experience. The very people who should have nurtured my growth and well-being became agents of pain and suffering, masked behind a façade of sanctimony. The first step towards healing lies in recognizing and acknowledging the trauma inflicted, a process that demands immense courage. By sharing my story, I not only reclaimed my voice but also offered solace to others who may be enduring similar experiences.

    Abusers often thrive in an atmosphere of secrecy and shame. By shedding light on their actions, I broke the chains of silence that had bound me for far too long. This act of truth-telling is an act of empowerment that challenges the illusion of their moral superiority. It serves as a testament to my resilience and strength, reminding the world that I am more than the sum of their manipulations.

    Abusers with a sanctimonious veneer often excel in instilling guilt and self-doubt. My decision to share my journey disrupts their carefully constructed narrative. The guilt that may arise from exposing their actions is not mine to bear; it is a testament to their own shortcomings. My story serves as a beacon of hope for others grappling with similar guilt, showing them that they are not alone in their struggles.

    My family members have expressed anger at my decision to share what I went through. I understand that my honesty about the past has caused some discomfort, and I’m sorry if my words have upset them. My intention was never to hurt or embarrass anyone in the family; my decision to share certain experiences was not made lightly. It was driven by a desire to heal, grow, and move forward.

    The pain I experienced was unimaginable. Acknowledging that pain, and the past, even its less favorable aspects, allowed me to work toward a healthier and more positive environment for myself, my husband, and my children. I hope that sharing what I endured encourages reflection and growth for both me and my family. If my words have struck a chord, perhaps it’s a reminder that treating each other with kindness and respect is essential in maintaining healthy relationships.

    I’m often asked how I deal with friends or family members who don’t believe me, or deny that I was emotionally abused and spiritually manipulated. The truth is, they don’t have to believe me. Unfortunately, I can’t control how others respond to my truth. While it’s painful, I try to understand that some family members might be in denial or defensive about the abuse. Their reactions may stem from fear, guilt, or shame. It doesn’t excuse their behavior, but understanding helped me cope. I also learned to accept that some family members may never come around. I need to accept this possibility and focus on creating a healthy and supportive environment for myself.

    I’d also like to address the denial and gaslighting. The idea that just because they (whoever they may be) didn’t witness my abuse, or they don’t believe it happened, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Abusers often live in their own world of denial, or they find justification for their poor behavior, often blaming the victims for their own mistreatment. I think it’s important for us to recognize the complexity of abuse and how it can manifest in ways that are not always immediately visible.

    Abuse isn’t always physical, and it’s not always easy to spot. Emotional and psychological abuse, for instance, can leave deep scars that aren’t as visible as bruises. It’s crucial to understand that not all forms of abuse leave obvious evidence. This can make it incredibly challenging for survivors to be heard and believed, especially if their experiences don’t fit into preconceived notions of what abuse looks like.

    It’s also important to remember that disbelief can stem from a lack of understanding or personal biases. People might struggle to accept that someone they know or care about could be capable of such behavior. But that doesn’t mean the survivor is lying or exaggerating. It’s a tough situation to navigate, and it can compound the pain and isolation that survivors already feel.

    For survivors, sharing their stories takes immense courage. It’s not easy to open up about painful experiences, and facing disbelief can be incredibly hurtful. To those who have faced this skepticism, know that your truth matters. Just because someone can’t comprehend your experience doesn’t invalidate what you went through.

    To those who are reading, let’s practice empathy and open-mindedness. Let’s be willing to learn about the different ways abuse can manifest and understand that everyone’s journey is unique. It’s not our place to judge or decide whose experiences are valid and whose aren’t.

    Believing survivors and offering them support can be a crucial step in their healing process. It’s about providing a safe space for them to share, without fear of being dismissed or judged. Let’s create an environment where survivors feel empowered to speak out and seek help without the added burden of having to prove their suffering.

    Remember, just because someone doesn’t believe you were abused doesn’t make it any less true. Your experiences are valid, and you deserve to be heard and supported.

    When I choose to share my story, I create a ripple effect of empowerment. My words have the potential to resonate with others who have endured similar experiences, giving them the strength to confront their own demons. By sharing my vulnerabilities, I lay the foundation for connection and community, proving that healing is possible even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

    I receive countless emails, texts, and messages on social media from people who are struggling. They are seeking peace but they feel hopeless. If I can help just one person see that they deserve compassion, respect, and acceptance, my purpose on this earth has been achieved.

    For me, confronting the abuse I endured was a transformative journey of self-discovery, healing, and empowerment. By bravely sharing my story, I not only liberated myself from the clutches of manipulation but also paved the way for others to find solace and strength. If you are suffering, remember, that your voice has the power to break the chains that once bound you, and in doing so, you create a beacon of light for those who are still navigating the darkness.

  • Navigating Toxic Family Dynamics: Breaking Free from Harmful Expectations

    Family is often thought of as a sanctuary of love and support, a place where individuals find solace and encouragement. However, not all families fit this idyllic image. Toxic families are characterized by harmful patterns of behavior, communication, and expectations that can have a profound impact on the mental and emotional well-being of their members, particularly children. In this post, we’ll delve into the rules and expectations toxic families often place on their children, the effects these dynamics can have, and strategies for overcoming the challenges they present.

    The Rules and Expectations of Toxic Families

    Toxic families often exhibit distinct rules and expectations that create an environment marked by emotional manipulation, control, and unrealistic demands. These rules can include:

    1. Silence and Secrecy: In many toxic families, open communication about problems or concerns is discouraged or even forbidden. Children are often taught to keep family issues hidden from outsiders, fostering a sense of isolation and preventing the healing process.
    2. Unrealistic Perfectionism: Toxic families may place an unhealthy emphasis on perfectionism, expecting children to excel in every area of their lives without room for mistakes or failures. This pressure can lead to chronic stress, anxiety, and a distorted sense of self-worth.
    3. Emotional Blackmail: Emotional manipulation is a hallmark of toxic family dynamics. Children may be guilt-tripped into conforming to the family’s wishes, often resulting in individuals sacrificing their own needs and aspirations to please their parents or other family members.
    4. Control and Micromanagement: Children in toxic families often find their choices and decisions micromanaged by parents who seek to exert control over their lives. This lack of autonomy can stifle personal growth and lead to feelings of resentment and rebellion.
    5. Invalidation of Feelings: Toxic families may undermine the emotions and experiences of their children, dismissing their feelings as insignificant or even irrational. This can result in children doubting their own perceptions and struggling to establish healthy emotional boundaries.

    The Effects on Children

    The consequences of growing up in a toxic family can be profound and long-lasting:

    1. Low Self-Esteem: Constant criticism and unrealistic expectations can erode a child’s self-esteem, leading to feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt.
    2. Anxiety and Depression: The chronic stress of navigating toxic family dynamics can contribute to the development of anxiety and depression, as well as other mental health issues.
    3. Difficulty in Relationships: Children who have grown up in toxic families may struggle with forming and maintaining healthy relationships, as they may lack the skills to set boundaries and communicate effectively.
    4. Repeating Patterns: Individuals from toxic families are at risk of perpetuating these harmful patterns in their own lives and families, unless they actively work to break the cycle.

    Overcoming Toxic Family Dynamics

    Breaking free from toxic family dynamics is a challenging journey, but it is possible with determination and support:

    1. Seek External Support: If you’re in a toxic family situation, seeking help from a therapist, counselor, or support group can provide you with a safe space to process your feelings and develop coping strategies.
    2. Establish Boundaries: Learning to set healthy boundaries is crucial. Recognize that it’s okay to prioritize your well-being and say no to unreasonable demands.
    3. Build a Supportive Network: Cultivate relationships with friends, mentors, and positive role models who can provide emotional support and guidance.
    4. Develop Self-Compassion: Practice self-compassion and challenge the negative self-talk that toxic family dynamics may have instilled in you.
    5. Work on Personal Growth: Engage in activities that help you discover your interests and passions, fostering a sense of autonomy and self-discovery.
    6. Therapeutic Techniques: Techniques such as cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) can help you reframe negative thought patterns and develop healthier coping strategies.

    In Conclusion

    Toxic family dynamics can cast a shadow over one’s life, but they don’t have to define it. By recognizing the harmful rules and expectations, understanding their effects, and taking proactive steps to break free, individuals can find the strength to overcome the challenges posed by toxic families. Remember, healing takes time, and seeking professional support can be a crucial step on the path to emotional well-being and personal growth.

  • Leaving the Dysfunction

    What happens when you distance yourself from your dysfunctional or narcissistic family?

    You begin to heal. And it’s painful.

    You feel as though you had been asleep your whole life, and suddenly you’re awake.

    You begin to see things from another perspective. You see things for what they truly are. You notice behavior that you previously ignored in order to survive.

    It’s brutal.

    You come face to face with a reality that changes everything you thought you knew about yourself and your life.

    You face the truth. You realize you have little to no self-esteem, self-confidence or self-worth, and you were groomed to believe these false truths.

    My narcissistic family demanded that I be agreeable, compliant, and subservient. I was never taught how to love and accept myself. I was taught to hate myself for being a normal, imperfect human being. When you’re the child of a narcissist, you question every decision you make because you’ve been taught you can’t trust yourself or your instincts.

    When you’ve been abused this way for decades, it leaves a painful mark on your life. You’ve always felt lonely and unsupported. You soon realize the person you loved and trusted is actively trying to sabotage your life and your happiness.

    After going no contact with a narcissistic family, it soon becomes very clear that you were always alone, you just didn’t know it.

  • The Rage Phase

    The worst part about suffering emotional, psychological and/or spiritual abuse is that most people don’t believe you. You don’t have visible scars or bruises. People can’t see the internal trauma. My own brother publicly shared on Facebook that I was not abused. It hurts to know that your siblings, people who grew up in the same house as you, and experienced similar things, choose to deny what you endured.

    For so long I felt the need to prove that I was right. I thought that I had to prove to others the pain I experienced, and still feel today, to justify my anger or sadness. When your own family calls you crazy and continues to mistreat you, because that’s all they know, and because this type of abuse is cyclical, it makes you feel devalued.

    Yesterday I finally asked myself, “Why do you care so much about what others think?”

    I contemplated for most of the day about this. Why do I need to be believed by the very same people who invalidated me? These are people who refuse to acknowledge my pain, yet I still feel as though I have to prove what I went through.

    I’ve come to realize how brainwashed I was, and it started when I was very young. I was taught that everyone else knew better or was smarter and that they had the ability and the right to define me. I didn’t belong to myself because they owned me.

    And now as an adult, I realize that I have the power to stop this never ending spiral. As long as I continue to fight to be heard my abusers have power over me.

    I’m no longer comfortable believing they are always right and I’m always wrong. That may have worked when I was younger; it doesn’t work now.

    I no longer believe this lie that I have to prove my worth. In my adolescence I was brainwashed to believe that love had to be proven through obedience, compliance and service. But I was never loved the same way. My dysfunctional family didn’t prove they loved me they same way they taught me to “love” them. They have a false definition of love. The rules are different for the abusers. Everyone always believes the one with the most power over others.

    I’m no longer powerless. I don’t have to give away my energy to people who have no intention of changing. I have learned to validate myself. Just because my parents and siblings invalidate me does not mean I’m invalid. Just because they don’t believe what I endured does not mean it didn’t happen.

    They love to tell others that I’m lying, that I’m exaggerating or that I’m dramatic. But the reality is they know I’m telling my truth, and it makes them look bad. They are living in denial. And I understand it. I lived in denial, too. I didn’t want to believe that the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally treated me with disregard. It’s painful. It hurts.

    I protected them for decades. No one wants to admit that their parents only show love when their children meet their expectations. I’m not hiding anymore.

    All the lies I believed about myself have surfaced. I had to dig deep into the cracked foundation of my dysfunctional family to see what really happened and how badly I was manipulated. I didn’t know any different.

    I can’t pinpoint the moment I realized the truth. It was an ongoing process but the catalyst was having an emotional and mental breakdown last year. I was blind with rage over being blamed for every problem in my family. My body shut down and I couldn’t function for several days. Then one day I decided I needed help. I went to therapy and began unraveling the knots of my past.

    It was brutal. Therapy messes you up when you begin to face the things you’ve repressed for decades. All the excuses I made to cover it up, all the times I accepted blame to keep the peace, all the times I was “the bigger person” – which usually meant opening myself up for more abuse – I faced it all.

    Denial came first. “No, that didn’t happen to me,” I remember saying out loud.

    But it did happen. I had to acknowledge it. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “Yes, you were emotionally and spiritually abused.”

    Grief came next. Crying for days. Remembering every incident that I pushed to the darkest corners of my mind. Grieving over the lost parts of my childhood. Crying about past traumas and acknowledging that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. That was hard.

    Then there’s anger. Pure unadulterated rage. That’s were I am right now, in the rage phase.

    But this time I know that it will dissipate. I know that I don’t have to prove my pain. I know that they don’t have to believe me. This abuse happened to me, I have accepted it, and I’m working through it.

    I don’t have to prove my worth. I know my own worth. I don’t need anyone’s validation. I validate myself.