Hey Dana Jane

Tag: Personal Growth

  • The Draw of Psychology

    I recently came across a quote from The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides that stopped me in my tracks:

    “I believe the same is true for most people who go into mental health. We are drawn to this profession because we are damaged—we study psychology to heal ourselves.”

    It struck a chord with me because it encapsulates the deeply personal reason I’ve always been fascinated by psychology. My interest began with my very first college psychology class. I was hooked, not just by the science of it, but by the way it seemed to illuminate the human condition—my condition.

    Years later, when childhood traumas I had long buried began to surface, psychology became a lifeline. Therapy and psychology books were the first places I turned, hoping to understand myself, heal, and learn how to set boundaries. I wanted to know why I had spent decades in denial about the dysfunction in my family. I had questions, and psychology held the answers I desperately needed.

    What I’ve learned is that denial is a survival mechanism. It shields us from pain until we’re ready to confront it. For years, I clung to a narrative that felt safe. But when the cracks appeared, I couldn’t unsee them. Psychology helped me name the chaos I grew up in, recognize unhealthy patterns, and, most importantly, begin the work of healing.

    And here’s the thing—I’ve come to believe we’re all healing from something. Life leaves its marks on all of us, whether it’s childhood wounds, broken relationships, or the weight of unmet expectations. Healing isn’t linear, and it isn’t quick. It’s messy, frustrating, and often painful. But it’s also worth it.

    Psychology taught me that understanding is the foundation of healing. By exploring the “why” behind our emotions and behaviors, we can begin to untangle the threads of our past and create a healthier future. It’s a process of unlearning harmful patterns, rewriting our inner narratives, and building something stronger in their place.

    For me, psychology has been more than an academic interest; it has been a mirror, a roadmap, and a guide. It’s shown me that while we may be “damaged,” we are not broken beyond repair. We are capable of growth, resilience, and transformation.

    If you’ve ever been curious about what makes us who we are, I encourage you to dive into this field—even if you’re just exploring for yourself. It’s not just about healing the world; sometimes, it’s about healing ourselves first. And as we heal, we create space for others to do the same.

  • Protecting Your Family From Manipulative People

    Let’s talk about something we all hope never to deal with: people who try to worm their way into your family and use manipulation to get what they want. You know the type—they seem charming at first, maybe even helpful, but over time, their true colors start to show. Before you know it, they’re stirring up drama, playing the victim, or turning people against each other. It’s exhausting, right?

    Here’s the thing: protecting your family from these kinds of people isn’t just important—it’s absolutely necessary. Let’s break it down.

    How Manipulators Operate

    These people don’t show up with a flashing sign that says, “I’m here to mess things up!” They’re sneaky. They might:

    • Act helpless: They love to make you feel sorry for them. Suddenly, you’re bending over backward to help someone who never seems to help themselves.
    • Twist the truth: They’ll make you question your own memory or feelings. You’ll catch yourself thinking, Am I the problem here? Spoiler alert: you’re not.
    • Exploit weaknesses: Maybe they latch onto the soft-hearted member of your family, or they guilt-trip someone who’s too nice to say no.
    • Create drama: They thrive on chaos. They’ll pit people against each other or stir up conflict to keep the focus off their own behavior.

    Sound familiar?

    Why It’s Such a Big Deal

    If you let this kind of behavior slide, it doesn’t just go away. It grows. Here’s what happens when you don’t set boundaries:

    1. Trust gets shaky: Suddenly, you’re questioning each other instead of the person causing the problems.
    2. Everyone’s drained: Dealing with manipulation is emotionally exhausting. You end up feeling tense, frustrated, and maybe even guilty for wanting peace.
    3. The family dynamic shifts: Instead of feeling like a team, your family starts to feel fractured, which is exactly what the manipulator wants.

    So, What Can You Do?

    Protecting your family doesn’t mean you have to be rude or aggressive, but it does mean you have to take a stand. Here’s how:

    • Set boundaries: Be clear about what’s okay and what’s not. And don’t just set the boundary—enforce it.
    • Trust your gut: If someone’s actions consistently make you uncomfortable, pay attention to that feeling.
    • Stick together: Talk openly as a family about what’s going on. The manipulator’s power comes from dividing you—don’t give them that chance.
    • Know when to walk away: If someone keeps crossing the line despite your best efforts, it might be time to cut ties. It’s tough, but sometimes it’s the only way to protect your peace.

    It’s Okay to Protect Your Space

    At the end of the day, you don’t owe anyone an open door to your family. If someone’s behavior is causing harm, you’re allowed to step in and say, “Enough.” That doesn’t make you mean or heartless—it makes you protective of the people you care about.

    Family should be a place of love and support, not manipulation and drama. If someone can’t respect that, it’s not your job to make excuses for them. Trust yourself, stand firm, and protect what matters most. You’ve got this.

  • Full Circle: A Reflection on Penny, My Childhood Bully

    Life has a funny way of coming full circle, doesn’t it? As I sit here reflecting on my childhood, one story stands out—a story that I’ve spent years processing, only to find it has a twist ending that even I couldn’t have predicted.

    Let me introduce you to Penny, the girl who turned my junior high years into a battlefield. Penny and I met in 5th grade when she transferred to the same elementary school. At first, we were friends—two girls navigating the awkwardness of pre-adolescence. She lived in a trailer park with her mom and younger sister. I visited her home a handful of times, but there was never much adult supervision. Her mom worked second shift at a nursing home and would often head out to the bars after her shift, leaving Penny and her sister to fend for themselves.

    We spent summers walking around the trailer park—something I now realize was dangerous given the sketchiness of the area. Penny loved chasing boys and flirting, a hobby that didn’t sit well with me. But things shifted in 7th grade when Penny decided I was a threat to her relationship with her boyfriend. The accusation was absurd—I had no interest in him—but that didn’t stop her from turning on me.

    The insults came first. She called me ugly, accused me of stealing his attention, and declared I’d never be good enough for anyone. By 8th grade, she’d recruited a posse of mean girls to back her up. I was shoved into lockers, my head slammed against walls, and mocked with the nickname “Tuna.” They tried to make me feel ugly, unwanted, and disgusting. And for a while, they succeeded.

    Their cruelty stripped me of my confidence, leaving me feeling small and helpless. My father, furious at the treatment I endured, told me to steer clear of those girls, calling them “derelicts and deadbeats.” Over the summer before freshman year, I took his words to heart. I realized I had nothing to prove to Penny or anyone else. I learned to stand up for myself and started to see their behavior for what it was: jealousy.

    They envied the life I had—a stable home, loving parents, and opportunities they couldn’t imagine. I was more than just the girl-next-door pretty or the friendly face in class. I had potential, ambition, and resilience.

    Fast forward to now, and here’s the ironic twist: Penny is a bartender at my family’s tavern, a job she landed during a period when I was no-contact with my family. When I first heard the news, I laughed. The girl who once tried to make me feel small is now working for my family. Imagine being a single mother of five, no education, and needing to ask for a job from the family of the girl you tormented in junior high.

    Is she laughing about this, thinking she pulled one over on them? Maybe. I’m almost certain her thinking was, look how dumb the Jurgellas are, they know I bullied Dana and hired me anyway. But I can’t help but see the poetic justice in it all. Penny, who thought she was untouchable back in the day, is now slinging drinks in a bar owned by my family.

    Meanwhile, I’ve built a life I’m proud of—a college-educated professional with a fulfilling career, a loving husband, and three wonderful kids. I live in a home filled with love, a far cry from the chaos of her trailer park days.

    Penny once tried to make me feel like a loser, but life has a way of revealing the truth. I didn’t just survive her bullying; I thrived despite it. And that’s the ultimate victory.

  • When Growth Feels Like Betrayal: Navigating Family Dynamics During Personal Evolution

    Growth is beautiful. It’s messy, hard, and often uncomfortable, but it’s also deeply fulfilling. However, for those of us growing within dysfunctional family systems, personal evolution can feel like a betrayal—not of yourself, but of them. Suddenly, your pursuit of bettering your life becomes a mirror reflecting their insecurities, their stagnant choices, and their unresolved wounds.

    If you’ve heard phrases like “You think you’re better than us” or “You’re so perfect now,” you’re not alone. These words sting, but they reveal something deeper: their struggles, not yours. The truth is, your growth can disrupt the equilibrium in a family system that relies on everyone staying the same.

    I’ve been on my own personal growth journey for the last four years, and it may seem like a long time to some, but there’s so much to unpack from the baggage of my childhood. Therapy, self-awareness, and a ton of self-reflection has taught me a thing or two, and I’m happy to share these lessons with you.

    Understanding the Dynamics

    1. Projection
      What they accuse you of isn’t necessarily about you—it’s about them. When someone projects feelings of insecurity or failure onto you, it’s easier for them than facing their own discomfort.
    2. The Lack of Grace
      Families steeped in dysfunction often struggle to offer grace because it challenges the roles they’ve assigned. You’ve stepped out of the role they expect you to play—maybe it was “the helper,” “the black sheep,” or “the fixer.” Without that role, they don’t know how to interact with you.
    3. Emotional Outsourcing
      Dysfunctional families often expect one member to manage everyone’s emotions. By focusing on your own growth, you’re inadvertently signaling that you won’t carry that burden anymore, which can create tension.

    Coping Strategies

    1. Set Boundaries, Not Walls
      Boundaries are about protection, not punishment. Let your family know what behavior you will and won’t accept. For example, calmly responding with, “I don’t think it’s fair to assume I think I’m better than you just because I’m working on myself,” can gently reframe the conversation.
    2. Release the Need for Approval
      You don’t need their validation to continue growing. It’s okay if your journey makes others uncomfortable; you’re not responsible for their feelings. Focus on aligning your actions with your values, not their expectations.
    3. Practice Compassion Without Enabling
      While their behavior may hurt, it often stems from pain. Acknowledge their feelings without taking responsibility for them. Say things like, “I understand this is hard for you, but my growth is important to me.”
    4. Find Your Support System
      Surround yourself with people who celebrate your wins and hold space for your struggles. Whether it’s friends, a mentor, or a therapist, having a safe space to process emotions is vital.
    5. Forgive Without Forgetting
      Forgiveness doesn’t mean condoning harmful behavior. It means freeing yourself from resentment so you can move forward unburdened. But forgiveness doesn’t erase the need for accountability or boundaries.

    Moving Forward

    When you’re not given grace, give it to yourself. When they don’t allow you to fail, remind yourself it’s okay to stumble. When they try to pull you into old patterns, stand firm in your growth.

    Your journey is yours alone, and it’s okay if it doesn’t fit their narrative. Keep evolving, even if it means walking a lonely path for a while. Growth doesn’t mean leaving them behind—it means choosing yourself without abandoning them. Whether they join you on this journey or stay behind, your responsibility is to yourself first.

    Remember: You’re not growing to prove them wrong. You’re growing to become who you’re meant to be. That is reason enough.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • Curiosity

    A few months ago, before the holidays, I had a revelation about myself. I was immersed in planning for Christmas, which always leads me toward planning for the new year, and I realized that I often talk myself out of doing things when I’m feeling insecure. I started to become curious about my behavior.

    Too often friends or colleagues will invite me to try something and my instinct is usually to say no. Later, I’ll think about how fun the activity seemed and why I was too shy, or scared, to step out of my comfort zone.

    I have been working on being more brave and the biking event I participated in last September was my first big step toward that goal.

    So why am I still so reluctant to say yes?

    I am a naturally curious person. I love to learn and seek knowledge by reading books, watching TED Talks and online seminars. But when it comes to certain social engagements, I find that if I’m feeling uncomfortable, I say no to avoid dealing with the emotions I’m feeling. I decided this insecurity and fear must end.

    In yoga class, my instructor often asks us to get curious about what’s happening in our bodies when we move into various poses. She tells us to acknowledge our thoughts, whether positive or negative, and then let them go. It’s not always easy to follow this advice during class, but I try. And sometimes I’m successful.

    It was during my revelatory moment that I discovered I must let go of the thoughts and emotions that hold me back in order to stay curious and not be so reluctant to try new things.

    How do you get and stay curious? I’m so glad you asked, I’ve made a list:

    1. Be a “yes” person. I don’t mean that you have to say yes to everything and everyone around you. (Who has time for that? Not me.) Instead of defaulting to “no,” respond by saying, “Yes, tell me more!” or “Yes, I’ll try that with you!”
    2. Investigate things that spark your interest. Make discoveries. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Do some research, jump on Google, and learn more about what interests you. Too often I make a mental note to check into something, only to forget about it soon after. Keeping a list is helpful. For example, I have recently become interested in snowshoeing. I’ve been researching different brands and have a list of places I’d like to go once I’ve made my purchase. I also have a list of books I want to read that pertain to my newest interests.
    3. Ask questions. I’ve stopped being afraid to show that I don’t know the answers to some things. I wonder aloud and ask others to share their advice and experiences.
    4. Practice being present. Become engaged. Put down your phone, or turn it off if it’s a big distraction. I find that when I’m present in the moment with others, and our shared experiences, I’m more likely to be curious.
    5. Become a student of things you’re interested in and learn as much as you can about them. You might be surprised where your exploration takes you. Recently I was very intrigued by other religions, namely the FLDS church and it’s polygamist past. I devoured every book I could find on the religion, its members and the experiences of those who left the FLDS church. This led me to learn more about Mormonism, Joseph Smith, and how the state of Utah became the LDS capital of the world.

    Curiosity is the desire to learn, or acquire knowledge, about everything or even specific topics. We are all born with it. Babies are especially curious about the world around them. My children ask many questions every day. However, as we grow, we shift from curious learning to knowing and, as an adult, we can reach a learning plateau. None of us is an expert in all things, so continual learning is essential.

    Get curious.

  • New Beginnings

    We’re three weeks into 2022 and I have to say that this year feels different, in a good way. Honestly, I can’t quite put my finger on what is making me feel optimistic. I don’t want to jinx it so I have resigned myself to simply accept what the universe brings forth and go with the flow. Maybe that’s the change; I’ve learned to let go of anything I can’t control and embrace the good things headed my way.

    I didn’t set resolutions this year, but I did write intentions in my journal. One was to consistently exercise. I set a goal of walking five days per week. Looking back at my fitness tracker I’ve only managed to work out four days each week since January 1st. The old me would have had a panic attack about not being perfect; she would have given up and quit working altogether, because her plan was ruined. The new me is giving myself grace, doing what I can in the time I have available and letting go of the need for perfection.

    Another intention was to read more, and that’s gotten off to a rocky start. Last year I read over 60 books and my goal was 52. This year my goal is 60 and I have yet to complete one of the two I started reading this month. Working from home is a big distraction. When I have a free moment I tidy up the house, swap laundry from washer to dryer, or work out over lunch. Reading has taken a backseat for now, but I’m confident I’ll catch up.

    The best part of January is it’s a colder month, and I feel the need to stay home more often than going out. I’m comfortable in this season of dormancy. I love starting the fireplace, watching movies (or even football) with the boys, and not having any obligation to be anywhere but home.

    This month I’ve adopted a mantra, “Do not be tempted by expectation.” It resonates with me because I’ve observed my friends and acquaintances chasing after their goals and ambitions, but not in a way that serves them. I see them competing with others, with the world. They compare what they have to what they do not have. I’m guilty of this, too.

    When I began to reflect on this, I realized I had been in a frenetic pace of activity for too long, and I no longer understood what I was chasing after. After much thought I realized that my ego desired to be successful and I unknowingly forfeited my attention to the temptation of certain achievements, or societal expectations. By caring too much about what others expect of me, I missed opportunities to experience my life in ways that are true to who I am.

    So, this year I’m focusing on me, my goals, and my ambitions. I will not be tempted by expectation. I will choose to “let go” because letting go is a choice for new beginnings.

  • 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?

  • The Value of Assertiveness

    In my early forties, I found myself wondering if my life is anything like I thought it would be at this age. I often feel that something bigger is in store for me, yet I don’t know what that something is; I’m adrift and unsure of my purpose.

    Have you ever felt that way?

    I used to think I was a steady person, not often willing to make drastic changes in my life. Now all I can think about is making big changes to my life. What is this feeling? It’s unsettling. I don’t like it.

    The last fifteen months has been a tornado of change. From acknowledging traumas, recognizing negative behaviors of myself and others, to making the decision to no longer tolerate abuse and manipulation, I have discovered that I’m no longer interested in doing what everyone else thinks I should.

    There have been many lightbulb moments that led me to my journey of defining my values. One of the brightest moments was realizing that I want, and need, to be more assertive.

    What does it mean to be assertive? The dictionary defines assertiveness as being confident, self-assured, and having the ability to express needs easily.

    Being raised in an environment where I was made to believe I didn’t know what I was doing, that my needs weren’t important, I was certainly not assertive and didn’t possess the ability to express what I needed from my parents or siblings.

    To be assertive I have learned to speak up. I no longer expect others to know what I want or need. I have become more open about what works or does not work for me, and I’m not afraid to be honest when my boundary lines have been crossed.

    When communicating verbally or in text or email, I have taken time to think about my words. It is important for me to understand other people’s points of view, to consider all sides of a situation and to use assertive statements such as, “I think” and “I feel” instead of saying “you always” or “you never.”

    Being assertive means I am never passive nor aggressive. Being assertive means being direct and honest. And the first step toward assertiveness is creating boundaries that help me decide what I will and will not allow, and this helps me decide the best way to communicate.

    For me, communicating my needs has helped me feel less anxious about my interpersonal relationships. My husband and children know my boundaries. We have eliminated many miscommunications and everyone is more willing to discuss issues freely. The quality of my friendships has improved, too. I no longer tolerate negative behavior and I’m more aware of my own attitude toward negative people.

    Are you an assertive person? Or, do you tend to be passive-aggressive? In what ways will effectively communicating your needs improve your life?