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“Welcome, beautiful soul, to The Happy with Dany Show.

I’m your host, Daniela Paola Gatto — and I’m so grateful you’re here.

Today’s episode is tender. It’s personal.

It’s one of those episodes that comes straight from the heart — and from the fire I walked through to get here.

I want to talk about something we all carry — but often keep hidden:

Wounds. Pain. Family cycles.

And how those things don’t break us…

They birth us into who we’re meant to become.”

And that’s something I didn’t fully understand until I became a mother myself.

👩‍👧‍👧 How My Mother Inspired Me — Not by Example, but by Contrast

You know, people always say,

“My mom inspired me to be strong because she was strong.”

But my truth is different.

My mom inspired me… because I didn’t want to repeat her pain.

Because I saw her wounds so clearly — even when she tried to hide them.

She inspired me to find my voice, because hers was silenced.

She inspired me to feel my emotions, because she numbed hers.

She inspired me to love myself, because I watched her fight her reflection in the mirror every day.

And this contrast — this tension — became a spark.

A seed.

An awakening.

🌿 The Breaking Point That Became a Birth

One moment changed everything.

I remember holding my son, Enzo, in my arms.

Watching him laugh — so full of life, so pure.

And something inside me whispered:

“If you don’t heal this… he will carry it.”

That was it.

That was the moment.

I wasn’t healing anymore just for me.

I was healing for him.

For my future.

For my soul.

For all the little girls who never got to grow up loving their bodies, their hearts, or their truth.

🔥 Healing Wasn’t Linear — It Was Sacred

Let me be honest:

Healing wasn’t pretty.

It wasn’t green juice and yoga and peace signs.

It was:

•Crying in silence while everyone else slept.

•Facing memories I didn’t want to revisit.

•Learning to eat with love, not punishment.

•Feeling guilt… and choosing to release it anyway.

•Looking at my reflection and saying: “You are worthy — even now.”

It was choosing to mother myself in the ways I was never mothered.

And every time I chose myself…

A piece of the old story dissolved.

💔 When Pain Is Invisible

There was a time when I was functioning on the outside — but falling apart on the inside.

I was living a silent battle with an eating disorder — one that didn’t scream, didn’t look dramatic, didn’t ask for help.

It looked like control.

It looked like perfection.

It looked like smiling when I was starving — emotionally, spiritually, and physically.

And no one really saw it…

Because in our society, women who keep it together are praised — even when they’re dying inside.

🧬 The Generational Thread

This pain didn’t start with me.

It was part of a lineage — passed down not with intention, but with silence.

I come from a line of women who carried shame in their bodies, and fear in their bones.

Who stayed quiet to keep peace.

Who swallowed their truth because they didn’t feel safe to speak it.

And I grew up watching my mother live in that space.

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