This title is ironic because right now it feels like the mold is breaking me. 

That sounds like it could be ridiculously insightful and deep (think Marianas Trench deep), but don’t let me fool you. There’s literal mold in my room and I think I’m having a reaction.

On that note, hello. I am Dana and I am physically incapable of taking things too seriously for any prolonged period of time without spontaneously combusting with sass.

My adventure starts at birth. Well actually, significantly before birth. I come from a long line of rebels, non-traditionalists, and critical thinkers – I really had no choice but to be a mold-breaker; it’s in my genes through and through. You only have to go back one generation to see what I’m talking about: when my dad was coming into young adulthood, he wanted to run away and join the army. His parents said no, due to danger and distance and all of that totally valid stuff. So instead he went to Russia to preach the Gospel, came home with a wife, and they had a bunch of kids and lived happily ever after (I mean, within reason). 

My family is one of the most significant factors in my life now, and probably always will be. My parents love each other and they love us kids. We kids love our parents and love each other (most of the time). This did not happen accidentally, nor was it easy, nor was it a once and done deal – it takes work (hard work) on a very continued basis. My family is not perfect. Nor will we ever be. But the main point here is that at the end of the day, we really do love each other. And that’s not something I’m ever going to take for granted.

So why am I talking about my family when this is my chance to convince you of how amazing I am? Simple. I’m a mold-breaker. 

Because my family has shaped me more than any other external force, I owe the majority of who and where I am to them. There was not a single aspect of my childhood that was “normal.” Oldest of 8 children (9 if you count the foreign exchange student), grew up on a farm, homeschooled, home-churched, didn’t play sports but danced a lot, mothered my siblings when my parents owned and operated a coffeshop, went to college (for the first time) when I was 16 – the list goes on.

Growing up, though, all I wanted was normal. Just to, like, go to church like a normal family instead of having these deep theological discussions. Just accept things the way they are and go with the flow and let people like you and not have to be the weird ones all the time. Thankfully they didn’t listen to any of that, because now I realize what a blessing that is. 

Being raised to work hard, ask hard questions, take the initiative, not do something just because everybody else is doing it (and that applies to more than just drugs, believe it or not) – that’s invaluable and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

So now where am I? 

Before, when people used to ask me what exactly I wanted to do with my life, I never had a good answer for them beyond “I want to help people.”

A common follow up to that initial question (especially with an answer as noncommittal as mine) was, inevitably, “Well what did you want to be when you were a little kid?” (Because apparently we can all agree that 7-year-old-me had a much firmer grip on reality than present me, let’s be real.)

Now that would be all fine and dandy if I hadn’t at one point or another wanted to be (and this is not an exaggeration):
a scientist, dancer, singer, actor, astronaut, firefighter, overseas missionary, farmer, The President of the United States (childlike ambition, what can I say), astronomer, archaeologist, a hermit in the Appalachian Mountains (that was after my first midlife crisis at age 14), a truck driver, detective, international spy, AND a professional newspaper advice columnist (yeah. . . a newspaper. The times they have a-changed).

Needless to say, that never really helped narrow down the search for My Ultimate Meaning In Life.

However, the more life I’ve lived since senior year, the more I’ve realized that I might never actually know what, exactly, I want to be when I grow up. And that maybe that’s the whole point. Since I was about 14 (when I first really started agonizing over what my purpose on earth was), the only thing I kept coming back to was helping others and loving people. 

So that’s what I’ve done! And let me tell you – the experiences that I’ve had so far with that mindset have been pretty incredible. Not that everything always makes sense, or I totally understand how various pieces of the puzzle fit together, but it truly has been incredible. 

I’ve traveled at home and abroad, made confetti at a hydraulic shears manufacturing plant, worked closely with kids aged 3-23 and learned more about the public school system than I ever wanted, got a behind-the-scenes look at the startup culture of rural Minnesota, worked alongside my parents as they started their own business(es), counseled people regarding addiction while I had no personal experience of substance abuse and before I was even old enough to legally drink alcohol, and served a lot of delicious Italian food to some wonderful people – just to name a few.

I’ve learned so many lessons about life and work and business and people – it’s hard to summarize all of it into a catchy, three-word summary that perfectly conveys Who I Am inside. 

However, the one main theme that stands out is helping and loving people. Which makes sense, seeing as how that’s kind of been my thing all along. I was able to realize that helping people is not exclusive to a Helping Profession (such as nursing, social work, or counseling). You can literally do that anywhere, anytime, regardless of what industry you’re in. 

So! I’m breaking the mold by developing a killer set of in-demand, transferable skills to be used in conjunction with my passion to help, love, and connect people, in order to bring the most value possible to any business that I’m involved with now and in the future.

Do you have a mold problem? Comment if you do and maybe we can break yours TOGETHER.

but also if it’s a literal mold problem, you should probably get that checked out.