insight arising

Thirty-four years of life, two therapists, three coaches, and a divorce later... I recently discovered, I have lived with  high functioning anxiety  without knowing it.  I don't blame anyone for not having helped me figure it out sooner. The hallmark characteristic of this condition is the ability to mask it quite effectively. All my life, I've been told:  "Danielle, you're so calm, composed, and collected." I was always confused by this feedback. Truly puzzled after every performance review or 360 cycle. What people saw of me felt so far from how I felt inside. It's no wonder I felt like an imposter. I lacked the skill, space, and safety to explore or communicate the dissonance. Over the years, I assumed what I felt inside was just normal wear and tear of the hamster wheel. Your regular work or school stress. But no, it was more than acute stress. It's been a longterm pattern of anxiety living within me since I was a kid. Because I was so disconnected fro

As I descend into the final part of Year of Dana, I realize, this journey will not end at the one year mark. I will not be returning to before, yet I will not be arriving either. Because there is no arriving where there is no destination. All I have is my trust in self and what I cannot yet see ahead of me.  What I do know though is this: my healing is no longer negotiable. Nothing will ever again stand in between myself and my inner home of love and resilience. Not a partner. Not my family. Not a career. Not society. Not patriarchy. Not capitalism. My inner world is the single most important, most sacred, and most precious thing to me.  I am committed to a way of being that prioritizes my freedom, my wakefulness, my rest and wellbeing, and my expression of inner truth and power.  I am committed to overwriting old narratives and unlearning conditions that once took control of my body. I am committed to living fearlessly with a heart of abundance.  Deep healing, gentleness, and tenderne

Thank you to Harriet Tubman and countless pioneers, seen and unseen, who did the work to free themselves in order to help free the minds, hearts, and bodies of others. Thank you to those who helped free my heart. Thank you to my spiritual sister who shared this beautiful and timely poem.  Poem for Flight by Becky Birtha There will come a day — it is not far off now — when you wake up in the morning and know you were meant to be happy and that you want it more than you want things, or memories any concrete place called home all the strings of the past that fasten you, more than you want justice or pride: your old clay image of yourself or the faint chance that all that has gone wrong may still change. It is you who hold the power to change. And whatever it is that holds you whatever it is you think you cannot live without the time has come to open your hands and let it go. Run flee disappear break loose take wing fly by night move like a meteor be gone. If you fear it will never be pos

2nd Grade Danielle Do you love me?   I asked this question of my ex-partner repeatedly in our marriage. Sometimes it was asked playfully. As we were waking up in the morning. Or right before bed. Or before he left for the day or a long week of work travel. Or while we snuggled in bed. Or just randomly on a walk or in the kitchen. Sometimes it was asked desperately. As we argued. Or as we existed painfully in disconnection. Or when we finished a family meeting. Or while we sat in silence during a car ride. Do you love me?   Over time, it became a part of our unspoken norm, embedded seamlessly into our way of being together, without any close examination. Partially conditioned by my own insecurities and fears of abandonment and not being loved. Partially conditioned by a relationship environment that hardened over time, one that grew unsafe emotionally. Do you love me?   Sometimes the question was met with love and kindness. Sometimes with sincere reassurance. Sometimes with silliness. S