Hey Dana Jane

Tag: writing

  • Unlearning the Lie: A Journey Out of Dysfunction

    Disclaimer:
    To my family members who may be reading this—this is not a personal attack. This is a raw and honest account of my experience growing up in a dysfunctional family system. This is the result of years of therapy, painful reflection, and personal growth. If this makes you uncomfortable, I encourage you to sit with that discomfort. These things happened to me. Your discomfort is yours to manage. I won’t be gaslit, dismissed, or silenced.

    For as long as I can remember, I lived in a house where appearances mattered more than authenticity, where silence was safer than speaking up, and where love came with conditions. The air was often thick with unspoken expectations, repressed anger, and inherited trauma, disguised as tradition. There was little room for individuality—only conformity.

    The voice in my head that doubted me, shamed me, told me I was “too much” or “not enough”? It wasn’t mine. It belonged to a chorus—my parents, some aunts and uncles, a grandparent. Their values were imposed on me like scripture: obey, conform, suppress, believe. I was conditioned to accept their version of religion, success, womanhood, and morality without question. I spent decades chasing their ideals, only to end up exhausted and empty.

    It’s taken five years of therapy—deep, soul-level work—for me to realize that voice was never mine. That guilt and shame? Not mine to carry. Those expectations? Not my responsibility. My therapist once told me, “Just because they handed you the script, doesn’t mean you have to keep reading from it.” That was the moment everything began to shift.

    At 46, I’ve never been clearer. I no longer pretend. I no longer force myself to align with values that don’t fit. I don’t exist to be a mirror for someone else’s version of the “right” life. I now extend the compassion to myself that I so freely gave everyone else. That’s the most sacred, powerful gift I’ve ever given myself.

    Yes, my philosophies have shifted. Yes, my goals and beliefs look different. And no, I will no longer contort myself to please people who can’t—or won’t—see me clearly. I’m no longer afraid to stand up for what’s right for me.

    And if this disappoints my parents, siblings, or extended relatives—so be it. That disappointment is theirs to hold. I was never equipped to be the manager of everyone’s emotions, and I’m done trying to be. I have finally stepped out of the shadows of who I was told to be, and into the light of who I actually am.

    This is my truth. And I won’t apologize for it.

  • The Only Real Control We Have (Spoiler: It’s Not Over Other People)

    Let’s be real for a minute.
    You’re not going to fix that egomaniac in your life.
    You’re not going to outmaneuver the narcissist.
    And you’re definitely not going to “change” that toxic person who’s been draining your energy like it’s their job.

    I know, I know—this isn’t what you want to hear. But it’s what you need to hear. Because here’s the deal:
    The only realistic form of control you have in this life is self-control.

    That’s it. That’s the truth, in all its uncomfortable glory.

    You can’t control how other people treat you. You can’t control how they twist your words, push your buttons, or show up with all the emotional intelligence of a brick wall. You can scream into the void, lose sleep, spiral with overthinking, and still—they’re going to do whatever the hell they want.

    But here’s your superpower: you can control how you respond.
    That’s not weakness. That’s not giving up. That’s strength. That’s freedom.

    Setting boundaries isn’t about changing someone else’s behavior. It’s about saying, “I’m not available for this kind of nonsense anymore.”
    Walking away doesn’t mean you lost. It means you’ve decided your peace matters more than trying to win a battle you never signed up for in the first place.
    Choosing silence doesn’t make you passive. Sometimes, it’s the loudest thing you can do.

    And I get it—we all want justice. We want accountability. We want people to see the light and finally say, “You were right. I was the problem.”
    But you’ll wait forever for that moment with some people. And in the meantime, you’re sacrificing your sanity.

    So here’s the challenge:
    Stop trying to control what’s outside of you, and start mastering what’s within.
    Your thoughts. Your choices. Your reactions. Your energy.

    Because when you stop trying to change toxic people and start changing how you show up around them, something wild happens:
    You get your power back.

    And trust me, that feels a hell of a lot better than banging your head against the wall trying to fix people who don’t want to be fixed.

    You want control? Take it.
    Not over them—over you.
    That’s where the real magic is.

  • The Wanderer’s Lament

    Through fog-bound streets of ashen hue,
    Where gas lamps flicker, cold and few,
    I tread a path both dim and wide,
    Yet find no beacon at my side.

    The cobbled way, it twists and turns,
    Each corner mocks, each lantern burns—
    Yet never bright enough to show
    The place from whence I used to know.

    Oh, time! Thou art a fickle guide,
    With fleeting whispers, cast aside.
    Once, fortune’s hand did point me true,
    But now I chase the wind and rue.

    My purpose, lost to swirling mist,
    A name once held, now but a wisp.
    The echoes call in hollow tone,
    Yet every voice is not my own.

    I beg the night to yield its veil,
    To show some truth behind the tale—
    But fate, it grins, it turns, it jeers,
    And leaves me wandering with my fears.

    So on I roam, through gloom and doubt,
    Till fate or mercy leads me out.
    Yet should I walk these streets so grim,
    Perchance I’ll find myself within.

    -DJT

  • The Fragile Things We Nurture

    The dream lingered with me long after I woke, its weight pressing against my chest like the tiny, fragile body of the starving puppy I had cradled in my sleep. In the dream, I found it—weak, trembling, on the edge of life—somewhere within the familiar walls of my home. Its ribs jutted out beneath a matted coat, its eyes dull with exhaustion, but even in its desperate state, it had looked at me with trust. I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t turn away. So, I scooped it up, wrapping it in warmth, offering it food, water, comfort. Slowly, it revived. Day by day, it grew stronger under my care, its tail beginning to wag, its eyes regaining their light. Love, patience, and tenderness brought it back from the brink.

    When I woke, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the dream meant something more. A quick search for dream analysis suggested that the puppy symbolized something—or someone—in my life that needed care and nurturing. And suddenly, it made sense.

    The night before, I had sat in the sterile, beeping quiet of a hospital room, watching my mother battle against the cruel complications of cancer. I had held her hand, spoken to her in gentle tones, adjusted her blanket when she shivered. She was the one now so fragile, so weak, caught between exhaustion and survival. And I, helpless in so many ways, could only offer my presence, my love, my care.

    Maybe my subconscious was telling me what I already knew deep down: that this season of my life is about giving—of patience, of strength, of love—no matter how heavy it feels. And just like in the dream, all I can do is nurture, tend, and hope that, somehow, it will be enough.

  • The Dreamer’s Curse and Gift

    Being a Pisces is like living with one foot in reality and the other in an endless dream. I feel everything, deeply and completely, often more than I’d like to admit. My heart is a sponge for the world’s emotions, and my imagination paints vibrant pictures of how things should be. It’s beautiful. It’s maddening. It’s my gift—and my curse.

    I’ve been told that my empathy is admirable, that my creativity is inspiring. But here’s the thing no one talks about: feeling everything and dreaming big can leave you crushed under the weight of it all. When reality doesn’t align with the perfect world I’ve imagined, it’s like hitting a wall at full speed. And I hit that wall a lot.

    There are days when I feel like I’m drowning in emotions that aren’t even mine, carrying the burdens of people who don’t even realize I’m doing it. I’ve learned to hide that part of me, smiling through the ache, retreating into the sanctuary of my mind when it becomes too much. My daydreams are my escape hatch, my shield against the harshness of reality.

    But I’ll let you in on a secret: escaping isn’t the answer. No matter how vivid the dream, it doesn’t erase the pain or solve the problems waiting outside of it. If you’re a Pisces—or even if you’re not, but this resonates with you—remember that while it’s okay to dream, you can’t live there.

    Use that sensitivity, that imagination, that dreamy idealism as fuel. Let it inspire you to create change, not just escape. The world needs people like us. People who feel deeply, dream vividly, and love unapologetically.

    So, yes, I’m a Pisces. A dreamer. A feeler. Sometimes a little too much of everything. And sometimes, I get lost in my own head trying to make sense of a world that feels too harsh, too cold. But I always come back, because those dreams of mine? They’re worth chasing.

    If you’re like me, don’t let the world convince you that you’re too much. Your empathy isn’t a weakness; it’s your power. Your imagination isn’t an escape; it’s a vision. And your sensitivity? It’s what makes you human.

    The world needs dreamers like us—because without us, who else will imagine a better future and bring it to life?

  • Embracing Vulnerability: A Path to Authentic Connection

    Vulnerability, often perceived as a weakness, is paradoxically one of the greatest sources of strength and genuine connection. It’s the raw honesty of showing our true selves, imperfections and all, to others. However, many find it challenging to make space for vulnerability in their lives. Here’s how you can begin to cultivate it and foster deeper connections with the people you long to share it with.

    1. Understand the Power of Vulnerability: Recognize that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but rather an act of courage. It requires self-awareness, acceptance, and a willingness to step out of your comfort zone.

    2. Practice Self-Compassion: Start by being kind to yourself. Embrace your flaws and acknowledge that making mistakes is a part of being human. Treat yourself with the same empathy and understanding that you would offer to a friend in need.

    3. Cultivate Trust: Vulnerability thrives in an environment of trust. Surround yourself with supportive and non-judgmental individuals who create a safe space for you to express yourself freely.

    4. Start Small: Begin by sharing your thoughts and feelings with trusted friends or family members. Start with low-risk situations and gradually work your way up to more vulnerable conversations as you become more comfortable.

    5. Practice Active Listening: Foster vulnerability in your relationships by being an attentive listener. Create opportunities for others to open up by demonstrating empathy and understanding.

    6. Set Boundaries: It’s essential to establish healthy boundaries to protect yourself emotionally. Be discerning about whom you share your vulnerabilities with and avoid oversharing with those who may not respect your boundaries.

    7. Seek Professional Help: If past experiences or trauma make it challenging for you to be vulnerable, consider seeking guidance from a therapist or counselor. Professional support can help you navigate and heal from past wounds, making it easier to embrace vulnerability in your life.

    8. Reflect on Your Desires: Are there particular people you long to share more vulnerability with? Reflect on why these connections are significant to you and what fears or barriers may be holding you back from opening up to them.

    9. Initiate Honest Conversations: Take the initiative to start open and honest conversations with those you wish to share more vulnerability with. Express your desire for deeper connection and ask if they’re open to engaging in more vulnerable dialogue.

    10. Be Patient and Persistent: Building the courage to be vulnerable is a journey that takes time and practice. Be patient with yourself and others as you navigate this process, and don’t be discouraged by setbacks or moments of discomfort.

    Learning to make space for vulnerability in your life is a transformative journey that can lead to deeper connections and a greater sense of authenticity. By understanding the power of vulnerability, cultivating trust, practicing self-compassion, and setting boundaries, you can create a supportive environment that allows you to express your true self openly and authentically.