I Stayed Because I Was Scared and Here’s What It Cost Me

The last three years, the hard truths, and why I’m bringing all of me into The Dr. Danielle Difference.

For about three years, I stayed in a professional relationship that was holding me back. My team could see it. They kept wanting me to leave. I trusted them wholeheartedly, and I knew what they were saying was right and yet I was paralyzed in fear.

Scared to let go.
Scared to make the wrong decision.
Scared of what would happen if I finally said, “This is no longer working.”

So I kept going. If you’ve ever stayed somewhere because you were scared, or kept giving someone access to you long after you knew something needed to change, I want you to sit with me in this conversation. I can tell you what happened to me. I also have to tell you what I kept allowing.

There was always something else to fix

There were big promises. In my experience, over and over again, the delivery didn’t match what had been promised and there was always something else I was doing wrong. Something else to build. Something else to change before I could move forward.

There would be just enough truth in the feedback that I could believe it. Listen, I have things to learn still, lol. I have things to improve and I am not above correction, but I would take that piece of truth and move on to the next thing. Then the next thing. Then the next thing.

Meanwhile, I was so busy that I couldn’t adequately take care of the people already in my care. My family. My house. The people coming into my business who needed support and a clear next step.

I lost relationships while I kept staying in that relationship and that hurts to say out loud. The people who work with me are people to me. They have names, lives, and they came because they needed help, and the experience they were getting wasn’t the experience I wanted them to have.

I didn’t want to build a business that only had room for parts of me

Last November, I was at a retreat where I think I cried more than I had in a few years. There was a vision being pushed for my clinic that might have looked impressive on paper but I wasn’t interested in building it.

I wanted to help people through Wilderness of Wellness.

My approach, my specific way I care for my people, my health perspectives, my faith, my desire to teach you how to live this out. All of that belongs in the work I’m building.

I love working with people one-to-one. Some of those people are among my favorite people, quite frankly. My team and I show up for them. But in an individual appointment, we’re working with what you bring and what we discern needs attention right then. There is more I want to teach. More I want to help people understand and put into practice.

Earlier this year, an opportunity opened for me to step away from that professional relationship. Through prayer, I understood it as my opportunity to leave.

It took me a long time. But I did it.

Leaving didn’t finish the work God needed to do in me

I started building things the way I wanted them to work. Making decisions with confidence again. Trusting the processes I’ve seen help the people in front of me.

Then July came, and I was burning out. Hard.

Something had to change in me. I had to stop expecting myself to personally hold everything everywhere in my life. Every need couldn’t immediately become something I took responsibility for fixing.

I knew that. I didn’t know the way out. Then someone said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“Your greatest strength is how you love your people well, but it’s also your biggest weakness.”

I held every tear in while he was speaking. I love my people. I have to learn to love them well without carrying things God has never asked me to carry.

What belongs to me?

That question kept following me through the week. Monday brought what I can only describe as holy agitation. Aria, my director of operations, and I prayed. I felt like God was calling me to sit and wait.

Do you know how uncomfortable that is for me? Sitting in a chair and actually being still are two very different experiences in my world.

Tuesday, I was in the clinic. That night, I was so tired I could barely form words. I was in bed by seven and asleep by eight.

Wednesday, I woke up at 2:50 in the morning. By three, I was downstairs. I let two of my Great Danes outside and stood under the stars. It felt peaceful, like an invitation.

I spent three hours praying, journaling, and crying out to God about burdens I didn’t want anymore.

I got enough clarity for that day. Enough to keep going. Enough to serve the people in front of me.

But the question was still there: What am I supposed to speak up about? What am I supposed to do? What belongs to somebody else’s responsibility?

I see a need, and I can immediately want to carry the whole thing myself.

Maybe you know that pull too.

I have to examine my part

In the episode, I talk about what I call Jezebel and Ahab patterns: control, intimidation, and surrendering responsibility. I also explain the distinction between that language and the actual biblical accounts.

And I have to ask myself hard questions.

Where did I let someone else’s voice get so loud that I stopped acting on what I knew?

Where did I keep yielding because I was scared?

Where did I know something was damaging the people in my care and still put off making a decision?

I can love someone and still end a working relationship. I can care about what happens to them and make a decision that protects my family, my team, and the people I’m responsible for serving.

I have to be willing to do it.

This is coming with me into the podcast

The work. The hard truths. The things I’m still learning. My health perspectives. My faith. My burden for discipleship and for students who deserve somewhere to bring their real questions.

I am tired of people being surface level with students. In the episode, I say exactly how frustrated I am. How we treat people matters. They have responsibility for their choices, and we have responsibility for how we lead them.

We’re also going to talk about your body.

You’ve changed your food. Bought the supplements. Seen the practitioners. You’re still asking, “What am I missing?”

Or you’re carrying so much responsibility that caring for yourself keeps getting pushed to whatever time is left over. And there isn’t any time left over, is there?

I want to help you connect the dots, understand your body, ask better questions, get appropriate care, and build something you can actually live out.

Taking care of myself includes Bible, prayer, and worship. It also includes doctor’s visits, the foods I eat, exercise, admitting I need help, and getting proper care.

My home includes my marriage, my children, homeschooling, and time with the people I love. I have to build a way of serving through my business that allows me to care for the life I’m living too.

And if you’re living with illness or limitations, you still belong here. God can use you right where you are while you seek the care you need.

Welcome to The Dr. Danielle Difference

If you’ve been here since Crying in My Cheesecake, welcome back. If you’re new, you’re coming in at a really interesting time.

The new music is my son Dietrich. He wrote it, recorded it, and played the instruments. I produced it. Something we made together gets to be part of this beginning, and I love that.

You can expect one episode a week: conversations from Wilderness of Wellness, the health questions people are asking, faith and discipleship, and ways to do this work with support.

I’m telling you where I am because this is the beginning of where we’re going together.

Share this episode with someone who needs it. Someone who keeps saying she’s tired. Someone who has tried everything. Someone who wants to take her health seriously and follow Jesus with her actual life.

And if you know it is time to take care of your health, join Wilderness of Wellness.

Let’s lock shields and move forward together.