Versions of Me

I used to define my life by what happened. Who left. What broke. What didn't come through. But lately, I've been seeing it differently... not a series of events, but as a series of selves. There is an evolution... an evolution of Dani.

I used to look back and lay blame, ache for emotional restitution and I'd wish away all the brokenness. Yes, maybe it could have been different - better. But would I give up where it brought me and who it made me? Looking at Jack and feeling Tony in me, I would resoundingly say no.

Each one of me had her own way of dealing with the complexities of life that overwhelmed her.

The one who kept quiet to keep the peace.

The one who stayed small to stay out of the way.

The one who ran.

The one who stayed too long.

The one who smiled when she wanted to scream.

The one who hid the bruises.

The one who let her heart break so others' wouldn't.

I can now look back and respect each of them. I can empathize. But most importantly, I can choose to become the one who finally said ENOUGH.

And that's exactly where I find this new version of me - focused, determined, flowing with the divine direction I've been given... and finally, feeling excited and proud of who I'm becoming. This version of me is a force, a truth teller, and hopefully a lighthouse.

Flipping the Script: Becoming Who She Needs

I've heard the concept of an inner child. I can look back on my life. I know her memories and her wounds are stitched into the entire fabric of my being, but where does she end and I begin?

 Is she just a memory now? Is there more to it than that?

As I step through my healing journey, I feel the overwhelming need to understand this relationship better. The most prevalent relationship in my life, outside of God, is the one I know the least about.

I'm understanding that she is not just a memory. She's not a photo in my mind or a chapter I've outgrown.

She is a living imprint - a part of my soul that has stayed with me. Not only does her energy still live within me - she's the emotional compass of my life. Everything she learned, both good and bad - drives the emotional responses within my nervous system.

Now I have to question what she needs so that we can flip the script in this life we're living.

What can I possibly do to help her now?

The answer is: EVERYTHING!

Everything that I can become now, I will become for both of us. She will not have to hide or be afraid anymore, because I will shoulder the responsibility of healing now.

I had a dream, or what I'm told in the spiritual world is an awakening. I was in a very dark and cold place. It was pitch black. I felt something move behind me. I turned and saw my younger self stepping forward in a very faint light. She was so little and so scared. I felt my heart breaking for her and my instincts to protect her kicked in. I pulled her behind me and said, "It's okay. I've got this now." Suddenly a door opened. On the other side, the most vibrant and glowing light I've ever seen. I was flooded with relief and release.

Now I can't say 100% what it was or what it wasn't. I know what I feel. Now that the dots are connecting, I feel it was my moment to take responsibility for my emotional compass and release her from the burdens she has carried for so long. This is on me now. I will heal. I will become. I will protect my soul so that she has a soft space to exist until we go home.

Breaking Free of What's Breaking Me

When you dive into the pool of self-discovery, I don't think there is any way you can fully prepare for what you are going to find.

Those of us that are the walking wounded carry scars that never heal. They still bleed. They bleed into our thoughts, our decisions, our relationships. They make us question ourselves. They create a continual ache for healing - one we can't always name, but always feel. We keep searching for answers, hoping for wholeness, but we often end up swimming in doubt.

You can reach a point of intolerance - an unwillingness to bleed anymore. You can analyze your behaviors. You can trace them back to their source. Why it happened can be crystal clear or still veiled in mystery. That's the spot that becomes very murky, and muddy, and difficult to traverse. Some of us get stuck there and it almost hurts more the original wound. You can wish and want all you want for change. If the other person doesn't have the awareness or ability to take responsibility and tend to your needs, it will continue to be a perpetual cycle of disappointment and unrest.

Forgive and let go... that's what I constantly hear.

Like it didn't matter?

The pain no one apologized for

The needs that never got met

The silence I had to survive in

I always processed that as saying, "Get over it." It made me mad. I felt like I was owed something, owed more than just swiping it under the rug.

Until now.

Now I'm learning that allowing myself to move past it is not about letting them off the hook without accountability or consequence. With this journey inward, I'm growing to understand that it's about my energy and what I allow to stay, what I allow to shape me, and what I finally choose to release.

The core lesson for me in all of this is that forgiveness isn't just a moment you arrive at suddenly. It's a muscle. It's something you strengthen through use. You build it through the ache, through repetition, through every refusal to bleed anymore.

I choose release, because I deserve it. I am the one who gives myself the freedom I am seeking. I am the one who will continue to whisper, "I let go of needing you to be someone you couldn't be. I free you. And I free myself."

Letting go is messy. It's layered. It takes courage. I'll still need lots more practice. But this... this is where a big part of my healing needs to happen.