There was a time when WWJD defined my morality. Step 5 is where that question changes—not to What Would Jesus Do, but What Would Jane Do? This entry explores sovereignty, boundaries, and the courage to walk away.

Every dysfunctional family has its own zodiac, its own constellation of roles that orbit around the unspoken truth everyone’s pretending not to see. And in almost every constellation, two stars shine the brightest: the Golden Child and the Black Sheep.

There’s a strange moment in adulthood when you realize that belonging is no longer something you chase; it’s something you choose. But only after you’ve lived through enough rooms where you were tolerated at best, misunderstood at worst, and miscast somewhere in between.

For years, I carried the belief that I was “too much.” Too intense. Too inquisitive. Too emotional. Too direct.

For a long time, I thought that admitting I had been a victim meant I was weak. Or dramatic. Or “making a big deal out of nothing.”

Healing isn’t about choosing one emotion over another. This is the moment I learned to hold grief and gratitude at the same time without thinking it meant I was failing.

There was a time I chased clarity like it was survival. I explained, defended, softened, and justified. Step 12 is where I stop convincing and start conserving—my energy, my peace, and my self-respect.

Before the pandemic, I thought I was just tired — but I was drowning. When the world went quiet, I finally saw what was draining me and what had been hurting me all along.