You Stayed. And That Tells Me Everything.

Why being honest with yourself is harder than any “healing journey.”

Last week’s email had a fantastic open rate. I’m used to seeing 40–53%, and this one came in just under 56%. So no, it wasn’t that the email bombed.

And at the same time, it also had the most unsubscribes I’ve seen in a while.

That genuinely made me smile.

Not because I don’t care about people leaving, but because it confirmed what I already suspected that the subject line touched something people didn’t want touched. 

“You’re not as self-aware as you think you are” is not a cozy invitation. It’s a mirror held up way too close, without warning, on a day you didn’t feel like looking at yourself.

Some people saw it and immediately opted out.
You didn’t.

And that matters, because this isn’t a conversation about spirituality or awareness or becoming your fantasy self. This is about the part of growth where you stop negotiating with your own bullshit.

The part no one glamorizes.

Because here’s what I’ve been learning and not in one tidy moment, but in layers, over and over:

It is incredibly uncomfortable to realize how many things in your life you’ve made harder without even knowing it.

And I’m not saying that from a mountaintop. I’m saying it from inside my own life, where I’ve spent years pointing at everything around me, my upbringing, my nervous system, postpartum, overstimulation, motherhood, business stress, and acting like those things were the entire story.

Some of it was valid.
But a lot of it was me.

And that was the part I didn’t want to touch.

I’ve been inconsistent.
I’ve been reactive.
I’ve treated people I love poorly in ways I justified because “I know better.”
I’ve been the expert in the room while altogether avoiding the mirror in front of my face.

I think the part that hit the hardest this year was seeing how many excuses I’d wrapped in psychology, spirituality, trauma, hormones, identity shifts, anything that kept me from having to say the simplest sentence:

“I’ve been contributing to the very problems I complain about.”

And I wasn’t doing it maliciously. I was doing it habitually.

In my marriage, I’d argue instead of listening.
As a mother, I’d react instead of respond.
As a daughter, I carried old wounds like they were permanent facts.
In my business, I handed power to people who knew less than I did.
And in my own mind, I defended myself faster than I ever actually heard myself.

It took me years to see how much of that was just ego in a different outfit.

And the truth is, a lot of us do this.

We cling to whatever story feels less painful than admitting we could’ve made a different choice all along. We blame the job instead of our spending habits. We blame the relationship instead of our communication. We blame our overwhelm instead of looking at how many tiny responsibilities we avoid and then resent.

And this is the part of identity work people skip; it’s not about becoming more enlightened, it’s about becoming more honest. (SHITTTTT SUCKKKSSS)

When I finally started taking actual responsibility, not theoretical responsibility, not the pretty kind you write in a journal, things shifted. Not overnight, but noticeably. My tone softened. My home felt calmer. My husband and I communicated differently. I stopped treating myself like a fragile creature who needed a perfect environment to behave like an adult.

And the thing that surprised me most?

As I stopped performing “awareness,” I actually became aware.

That’s why the unsubscribes didn’t bother me.
That’s why the open rate mattered more than the exit rate.
Because anyone can read an email, very few people are willing to be confronted by one.

You stayed.
Which tells me you’re ready for a different kind of conversation, the one where you stop waiting for your life to rearrange itself and start noticing how often you’re the one nudging it off course.

Not because you’re broken.
Not because you’re failing.
But because you’re human, and humans repeat what’s familiar until they choose something else.

And choosing something else is exactly where you are right now.


💛👽
Danielle


If you felt called out at all today… good.
Now take the next step with it.

This week’s video is basically a wake-up call for anyone who’s been stubbornly trying to do life alone while pretending it’s “just who I am.” It’s not.
It’s a coping mechanism dressed up as independence.

And if you’ve been isolating, avoiding community, or relying only on your own head (or cards) to make decisions, you need to hear this.

Watch it here.

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