When I was 4 years old, I overheard my mother refer to me as a “mistake”. Although I didn’t know what that meant exactly, her hushed tone gave the impression that there was something inherently wrong with me.
Granted, I was an unplanned teenage pregnancy. But no matter what I accomplished to achieve my mother’s love and approval, I never seemed to be able to.
Add to that the physical and verbal abuse I endured and the consequences of standing up for myself against it, I learned my place quickly – to remain small, and silent. Avoiding notice altogether kept me safe.
Those core beliefs unconsciously bled into every relationship I ever had going forward, wherein I minimized my needs and wants, so I wasn’t a burden or bother, and suppressed my feelings because they didn’t matter, anyway.
At some point, I came to believe that I didn’t matter, either. I struggled with suicidal ideation, eventually finding consolation in my servitude to another abusive narcissist whom I married, had a child with, and remained with for 25 years.
Like a Stepford wife, I was dutiful and compliant. I did what I was told, as well as what was expected of me. So, despite having a university degree and aspirations in journalism, I worked as a housekeeper because that’s what my (then) husband decided after moving us to a Podunk farm town well outside the city and away from all the opportunities I could have there.
I wasn’t happy, though. I was suffering. And I was exhausted – constantly proving, constantly performing, constantly afraid of being “too much” or “not enough” – and that self-erasure eventually manifested into autoimmunity and a rare lung syndrome that the neurologist likened to having COPD and fibromyalgia altogether.
In a dark night of the soul moment, I realized that I had always subdued myself to ensure my basic human needs were met – that I would be fed, sheltered, maybe even loved, or at least unharmed, if I proved to be “good enough”.
Although survival mode kept me safe; merely functioning wasn’t living. I wanted more than I was tolerating. I knew I deserved better than I was given. More importantly, I’d finally realized that my worthiness was my choice.
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So, I gave myself permission to come out of hiding. I took up more space. I expressed the strong feelings and opinions I’d subdued. Withstanding the criticism and disapproval made me stand taller. My decisions changed. I asked for more. I expected more. I exuded confidence and strength that screamed, “No one puts ‘Baby’ in the corner,” and then, of course, imagined running into Patrick Swayze’s arms to be upheld in all my glory.
That glory ironically came from those couple of weekly house cleaning jobs I’d started with. My professionalism and work ethic stood out, so word quickly spread through the small town. Demand for my services grew in congruence with my income.
Before long, I had a client waiting list months long. So, I raised my prices and hired help. In less than two years, those two clients per week grew into a six-figure business which gave me the financial freedom to free myself from that terribly abusive marriage.
In just five years since, I have:
1. Become a bestselling and award-winning author of a memoir trilogy
2. Been featured on 300+ podcasts globally and spoke on virtual and live stages
3. Contributed to globally distributed magazines regularly and appeared on NBC Chicago
4. Had my own show on Women Thrive Media
Looking back, I realize how we, as women, spend so much of our lives trying to be who other people want and expect us to be. We diminish our own wants and needs to fulfill those of others, and then we’re glorified for self-sacrifice, though nothing truly thrives when what we give is sourced in suffering.
So, I’ve come to the conclusion that success comes from boldly embodying our authentic selves. Because being who I truly am is where my personality shines and my heart sings. It’s where my relationships and my mental and physical wellness thrive. It’s where my business and brand naturally expand, whether I’m making magic in pajama pants and messy buns or wearing red lips and sparkles.
Sure, some still judge me for being “too” this or that; and I probably am. But I’m okay with it. Because I know who I am, and the fearless woman I’ve become is living the life of her dreams.
Name: Dana S. Diaz
Professional Title: Best-selling & Award-winning Author | Global Speaker | Subconscious Identity Strategist
Bio: Dana S. Diaz is a bestselling, award-winning author, global speaker, and magazine contributor whose memoir trilogy chronicles her journey from abuse to empowerment. A self-made entrepreneur, she built a six-figure business that gave her the freedom to leave an abusive marriage and now helps women rewrite beliefs and reclaim their power.
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