Hey Dana Jane

Tag: mental health

  • “Take Space,” They Said. “Sit in Your Own Energy,” They Said. But What Does It All Mean?

    Have you ever felt like the health and wellness world is speaking in a code only decipherable by crystal-clutching yogis and smoothie enthusiasts? Phrases like “take space,” “create space,” and “sit in your own energy” sound deep, but they also sound like something a self-help guru would chant before disappearing into a puff of sage smoke.

    Don’t get me wrong—I’m all for self-care. But when someone tells me to “create space,” I’m left wondering: do I need to move furniture? Is this a Marie Kondo thing? Or is it like, emotional feng shui?

    So, because I’m a curious soul (and frankly, a bit tired of pretending I know what anyone’s talking about), I decided to decode these mystical phrases for the rest of us mere mortals.

    1. Take Space

    Translation: Go sit in a corner and ignore everyone.
    Apparently, “taking space” is wellness-speak for saying, “Leave me alone so I can drink my coffee in peace.” It’s about carving out time just for yourself, away from your kids, coworkers, or that chatty neighbor who somehow knows when you’re trying to relax.

    Practical Example: Lock yourself in the bathroom and pretend you’re constipated for 20 minutes. Boom. Space taken.

    2. Create Space

    Translation: Clean up your house. Or your brain. Or both.
    This one is trickier because it’s vague on purpose. “Create space” could mean decluttering your living room. It could mean breaking up with that friend who never Venmos you back. It might even mean throwing out your guilt about binge-watching reality TV. The possibilities are endless, and that’s the point: you decide what needs space in your life and what needs to go.

    Practical Example: Toss out those skinny jeans you’re never wearing again. That’s “creating space” and being honest with yourself.

    3. Sit in Your Own Energy

    Translation: Be awkwardly alone with your thoughts.
    This one’s a doozy. “Sit in your own energy” sounds like the wellness version of being grounded for something. And honestly? It kind of is. The idea here is to stop distracting yourself with Instagram, Netflix, or five million tasks and just…exist. Feel your feelings. Think your thoughts. Maybe have a small existential crisis.

    Practical Example: Sit on your couch with no phone, no TV, and no distractions. Yes, it’s weird. Yes, you’ll survive.

    But Why?

    Okay, so now that we’ve translated the lingo, you might wonder: what’s the point of all this? Why do we need to “take space” or “sit in our energy” when we could just doom-scroll like normal people?

    Well, it turns out these practices are about mindfulness and self-care—just wrapped in a blanket of poetic language. They’re meant to help us slow down, reflect, and make space (there’s that word again) for the things that actually matter.

    Do they sound a bit pretentious? Sure. But when you break them down into everyday actions, they’re surprisingly doable. So the next time someone tells you to “take space,” just smile, nod, and go lock yourself in the bathroom. You’ve got this.

    And remember: it’s all just words—until you make it work for you.

  • The Threat of Independent Women: Unpacking the ‘Emotional’ Accusation

    In today’s society, the narrative of independent women carving out their paths is increasingly prevalent. However, with this empowerment comes a disturbing trend: the tendency for some men to feel threatened by such autonomy. In their attempt to assert dominance, they often resort to labeling these women as “emotional” as a means to belittle their achievements and undermine their capabilities.

    The accusation of being “emotional” is a tactic deeply rooted in gender stereotypes and societal expectations. Historically, women have been portrayed as overly emotional and irrational, while men are perceived as logical and level-headed. This false dichotomy not only perpetuates harmful stereotypes but also serves to delegitimize women’s experiences and opinions.

    When a woman displays assertiveness, confidence, and independence, it challenges the traditional power dynamics, leaving some men feeling insecure and emasculated. Unable to cope with this shift, they resort to gaslighting and manipulation, weaponizing the label of “emotional” to diminish her accomplishments and maintain their sense of superiority.

    But let’s unpack this accusation further. What does it mean to be “emotional”? Emotions are a natural and essential aspect of the human experience, regardless of gender. They serve as valuable indicators of our needs, desires, and boundaries. However, when women express emotions such as anger or frustration, they are often dismissed as being overly sensitive or irrational.

    Moreover, the implication that being emotional is somehow a weakness is deeply flawed. Emotions are not antithetical to competence or professionalism; in fact, they can enhance decision-making and empathy in various contexts. Women should not be penalized for expressing their emotions authentically, nor should they be expected to suppress them to conform to societal expectations.

    Furthermore, the accusation of being “emotional” is often a tool used to silence women and maintain the status quo. By dismissing their concerns as mere emotional reactions, their voices are marginalized, and their agency is undermined. This not only perpetuates inequality but also perpetuates a culture of silence and oppression.

    So, what can be done to combat this harmful narrative? Firstly, we must challenge traditional gender norms and stereotypes that equate emotionality with weakness. Both men and women should be encouraged to express their emotions authentically without fear of judgment or retribution.

    Additionally, we must acknowledge and celebrate the achievements of women without resorting to undermining tactics. Recognizing and valuing their contributions to society is essential for fostering a culture of equality and respect.

    The accusation of being “emotional” is a thinly veiled attempt to diminish the autonomy and agency of women. It is time to dismantle this harmful narrative and embrace a more inclusive and equitable society where women are celebrated for their strength, resilience, and independence.

  • Navigating the Parenting Community: A Return to High School Dynamics?

    Entering the realm of parenthood often brings about a sense of camaraderie and mutual support among individuals facing similar challenges and joys. However, for many, the parent community can sometimes resemble a flashback to the social hierarchies and cliques of high school. The parallels are striking – the pressure to conform, the judgment based on superficial factors, and the exclusion of those who don’t fit the mold.

    In this modern era of parenting, where choices about everything from diapering to vaccination to career paths are scrutinized and debated, it’s easy to see how these divisions can arise. The “mommy wars” of yesteryears, which pitted mothers against each other over parenting philosophies, seem to have evolved into a more nuanced landscape, where not only parenting choices but also personal identities and ideologies come into play.

    The parent community, like any social group, can be prone to forming cliques based on perceived notions of coolness, wokeness, or conformity to certain standards. Whether it’s dressing a certain way, being part of the right social circles, or espousing the “correct” beliefs, individuals who deviate from these norms may find themselves on the receiving end of exclusion and ostracism.

    The pressure to prioritize one’s own child above all else can also contribute to this sense of division. While it’s natural for parents to want the best for their children, this shouldn’t come at the expense of empathy and solidarity with other parents. Viewing parenthood as a competition, where one must outdo others in terms of achievements or adherence to certain standards, only serves to reinforce these harmful dynamics reminiscent of high school cliques.

    At school drop-offs and pick-ups, instead of fostering a sense of community and support, some parents find themselves facing cold shoulders and judgmental glances. The fear of not measuring up to the expectations of the perceived “cool kids” can create a toxic atmosphere where authenticity and vulnerability are discouraged.

    But it doesn’t have to be this way. Parenthood is a journey filled with both struggles and triumphs, and no one has all the answers. Embracing diversity of thought and experience within the parent community can enrich everyone’s journey and foster a sense of belonging for all.

    Rather than succumbing to the pressures of conformity and competition, we should strive to cultivate empathy, understanding, and inclusivity. We must recognize that each parent is navigating their own unique challenges and celebrating their own victories, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach to parenting.

    Let’s break free from the shackles of high school-esque social dynamics and embrace a more compassionate and supportive parent community. After all, the only true loss is perpetuating a cycle of bullying and exclusion into adulthood, leaving behind a legacy of regret instead of connection. Let’s choose understanding over judgment, empathy over exclusion, and solidarity over division. Because in the end, we’re all just trying to do our best for our children and ourselves.

  • New Year, New Energy

    Seven days into the new year and I’m feeling energized. Focused. Determined. Ready to kick ass and take names. Have you ever looked up that phrase? I heard it used often as a child and I pictured someone literally kicking another person’s ass and then asking them, “Hey, what’s your name?” I find that funny. Also, I learned that this idiom means to be unequivocally dominant and in control in some situation. I think it suits me.

    I am undergoing a transformation, a personal revolution. I woke up one day between Christmas and New Year’s and decided that the time has come to put everyone else’s bullshit behind me, to stop wasting time and energy on people who don’t deserve me, and to make myself a priority.

    Selfish? Yes. Necessary? Absofuckinglutely.

    Prioritizing my own self-care has taken on a new meaning. I have consistently exercised this week. This has been something I’ve struggled with because I go through phases. I will work out several days in a row and then skip a day, only to find it’s difficult to get back on the horse. Or treadmill, rather. But this week I ran or walked on the treadmill 4 days and walked the dog outside in the frozen tundra twice. It feels amazing to log food and exercise on MyFitnessPal. Consistency is the key to success.

    I’m also working on personal growth. Meditation and visualization have become a part of my morning routine. At night I read the Bible with my kids. Spiritual growth is important to me, and I’m exploring my own religion, as well as learning about other practices.

    The most important lesson I’ve learned is that I need to step out of my comfort zone. It’s easy to do what’s familiar. The hard things are where growth is found.

    For once, I’m unequivocally in control of my life.

    How is your New Year so far? What changes are you making in your life?

  • Moving From Self-Loathing to Self-Love

    When you begin therapy and start facing the thoughts, feelings and emotions you’ve avoided for so long, you start to realize that your entire existence has been affected by the abuse you endured.

    One of the things I have struggled with for most of my life is my weight. I can’t remember a time when I was thin. But what constitutes “thin?” Looking back at pictures of myself in my twenties, I wasn’t fat by society’s standards, but I wasn’t the accepted body size that society loves to idealize.

    At my lowest weight I was 140 pounds. I thought I was fat. At my highest weight, when pregnant, and after receiving a diagnosis of pre-eclampsia and elevated blood sugar, I weighed 274 pounds. Typing that makes me cringe.

    As I child I didn’t learn the proper way to eat. Food was forced. I don’t mean physically, but emotionally. I had an aversion to green vegetables so I was yelled at until I ate them. I remember sitting at the dinner table, gagging because I didn’t like the texture and taste of peas or green beans, and my dad would yell at me until I would eat them. Sometimes he’d threaten spankings or say that I was hurting my mom’s feelings by not eating what she made. (The fact that I grew to love these foods as an adult is quite funny to me.)

    There were times when I would refuse to eat something and my mom would fret over it. To her, not eating meant I was going to starve. She would make other meals to compensate and they weren’t always the healthiest. Mashed potatoes with a whole stick of butter added to the pot, Salisbury steak, lasagna, casseroles, and other high fat foods were in her rotation.

    When I moved out at 18 years old, I started trying to figure out what to eat and how to cook. I didn’t know a thing about macros or portion sizes. I would go through periods of starving myself so that I wouldn’t gain weight, then I would binge eat out of extreme hunger. I was obsessed with trying to trick my body into weight loss and it never worked. I believed that being thin like the models in magazines or the actresses in movies was how I was supposed to look. My perception of beauty was very skewed.

    My eating disorder caused my weight to fluctuate so much and so often that my body was in distress. I stopped getting my period. I had terrible stomach pains. I finally went to the doctor and he ran a gamut of tests. Then, at 19 years old, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) which added additional challenges. My hormones, namely insulin, were affected by my cycle of starvation and binges, and I started gaining weight no matter what I ate or how often I exercised.

    A few months ago I was talking with a therapist about my weight struggle. In therapy I address the emotional and psychological abuse I experienced, and it has helped me to uncover the deep-seeded feelings of guilt and shame I felt. When it was mentioned that sometimes the body wears weight as armor, I started to cry.

    Some women aren’t overweight because they eat big portions (I don’t), or because they loathe the treadmill (I love it). It’s not because they have a thyroid problem (I’ve checked, dozens of times, despite having the symptoms). It’s not because they are lazy (I’m definitely not).

    For some women, excess weight is a shield. For me, having been brainwashed to believe I was never smart enough, good enough, strong enough, thin enough or pretty enough, my weight was a barrier to the outside. It was an excuse for me to hide. It was a way for me to avoid…anything and everything.

    For years I’ve wondered why I struggle to keep the weight off. I start with intention, I make progress and then I quit. Why do I do this? In a recent conversation with a fitness trainer, I discovered the answer:

    Trainer: “It seems that you’ve made progress before, what happened?”

    Me: “I don’t know. I guess I just quit.”

    Trainer: “Why? At what point do you quit? What are the triggers that make you decide to give up?”

    Me: “I don’t know. I guess I start noticing the things others say to me and it leads to self-doubt or I worry about what others think. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

    Trainer: “What do people say to you? And are these important people in your life? Sounds to me like you need to lose these people. They are extra weight.”

    That’s when I realized what is holding me back.

    Some people say things in a backhanded way:

    “Gosh, don’t you look skinnier.”

    “Wow, what’s finally working for you?”

    (Things said to me in a sarcastic tone.)

    Some people make comments behind my back:

    “She thinks she’s hot now.”

    “She’s not as fun now that she’s going to the gym.”

    “She’s never going to lose the weight, I don’t know why she tries.”

    (Things I overheard “friends” say in a bathroom stall.)

    Subconsciously, I began to believe that I didn’t deserve to be fit and healthy. Certain people have only known me as an overweight person, and for some screwed up reason my weight loss bothers them. Even more messed up is the fact that I let these people affect me.

    Why?

    Because this type of abuse is familiar to me.

    Emotional abuse. Psychological abuse. It’s all I knew. It was “normal.”

    For too long I was a people pleaser. I avoided conflict because I didn’t want people to be mad at me for standing up for myself. I didn’t want people to dislike me for sharing my honest thoughts and feelings. I cared more about others’ feelings than my own.

    After talking to the trainer I shared the lightbulb moment in therapy. I was reminded that I need to love myself more than others love me. I need to pull off the masks of shame, guilt and failure. I need to let go of the negative crap that manifests in my life and my body so that I can emerge with a new shape, new mind, new resilience and a new connection to my true, radiant self.

    It’s been a few weeks since I had this epiphany and a few pounds have already fallen off.

    Imagine that.

    I choose self-love, not self-loathing.