From Dana to Elfy: Claiming My True Self

When I decided to move to Arizona, it was because I wanted an entirely new life. I had tried — over and over — to make it work in Connecticut. I changed locations, homes, towns, even groups of friends. But no matter what I did, I felt overshadowed by this heavy gray cloud of manipulation and control. I was suffocating under it. Everything — past and present — felt dark. And I was losing my desire to live.

I had never been suicidal growing up. I’d never even suffered from depression. But my current illness, cruelly nicknamed the suicide disease, brought me to my knees. When things got dark, they got really dark. After an attempt on my own life, I knew the feeling wasn’t going to lift on its own. I needed to make a change.

Not just a little change.

Everything.

That didn’t mean abandoning everyone I know and love, but it did mean creating distance for my own safety, peace, and happiness.

Why Arizona?

Yale New Haven Health had been incredible, but they’d done everything they could for me. The only hospital that might be able to help is the Mayo Clinic. Minnesota’s main branch is far too cold for this little sunbeam, and while there’s a Florida location… well, Florida is a place I prefer to visit — not somewhere I want to wrestle with hurricanes, humidity, and bugs.

So Phoenix it was.

I didn’t know anyone here, but I’ve learned from traveling that I can be happy almost anywhere. I adapt well. I get along with most people. I just avoid areas that are pretentious or closed-minded. Big cities, with their mix of people and experiences, have always been a safe bet.

As I planned the move, things got chaotic. Then came the breaking point: Nicky and I were attacked. Panic set in. My thoughts turned darker than I care to repeat. I knew I had to leave immediately.

My family stepped in, handling the move so I could get out ahead of time. By the time the movers reached my apartment, I was halfway across the country. Four days later — a thousand miles a day — I arrived in Phoenix.

Slowing Down to Begin Again

I’ve been taking time to decompress. I spent a week in a hotel letting the adrenaline drain from my system, imagining the life I want to build. Now I’m in my new home, working at a sober house, slowly creating routines: morning meetings, long walks with Nicky, getting my living space in order.

I think I’m starting to smile again. And that means it’s time to meet new friends.

Where “Elfy” Came From

Almost ten years ago, when I met my ex-husband in Dallas, he looked at me and said, “You’re so tiny, you remind me of an elf.” We were both video game lovers, and soon every one of my characters was named “Elfy.”

A couple of years later, when I started my first company — Elfy Group — my employees called me by that name. Over time, it became a piece of me. Something lighthearted, creative, and mine.

So when I decided to change my name, there was only one choice: Elfy. It already felt like home.

Why I’m Leaving “Dana” Behind

This change isn’t about hiding. Yes, I have a stalker, but changing your name legally still leaves a paper trail. This is about something much deeper.

I realized that hearing “Dana” no longer made me feel good. The name had become tied to reprimands, guilt trips, and constant reminders that I wasn’t meeting someone else’s expectations. It had been so long since I’d heard it used with kindness that my mind had stopped associating it with anything positive.

Dana was the woman everyone wanted to keep exactly where she was. When I wanted to grow and move forward, others felt it would be more comfortable for them if i stayed stagnant and under their control. So, Dana stays in Connecticut, she literally suffocated. She’s all yours now, just an empty name.

Elfy is moving forward, to positivity, to growth, to renewal and all the wonderful things I thought I would never have for myself.

The Bigger Picture

If you’ve ever felt trapped in a cage, remember: you are not a tree. You can move. You don’t have to uproot your whole life like I did — change can be small, or massive, or somewhere in between. But you can make it.

This time, I’m not letting anyone tie me to their baggage. I won’t be pulled down or drowned by someone else’s decisions. I’ve learned that I have to depend on me — and I will.

Over the next week or so, I’ll start the official process of changing my name on everything. I couldn’t do it before I left Connecticut, but now I can. And as I do, I’m seeing more clearly than ever who truly supports me. The genuine responses show me exactly who I want in my life… and who I don’t.

Elfy is who I am now — joyful, creative, stronger than ever. And she’s here to stay.

With Love,

Elfy & Nicky