Irish poet, music journalist, and publicist Danielle Holian returns with Growing Pains, her fourth and most personal poetry collection.
Structured across five sections — Honeymoon, Handcuffs, Hangover, Hindsight, and Homecoming — the book traces toxic love, emotional control, survival, and self-reclamation.
In this FM PRO 10Q, Holian discusses the story behind Growing Pains, turning lived experience into poetry, and protecting personal writing in a culture obsessed with content.

Q1. What made Growing Pains the right story to tell now?
The idea for Growing Pains had been in the back of my mind for years. During one of the most difficult periods of my life, I remember telling myself that I would grow from everything I was enduring. No matter how challenging the environment, the relationship, or life itself felt at the time, I started thinking of those hardships as “growing pains”. That phrase became a quiet mantra for me, something I returned to whenever I felt overwhelmed. I was also fortunate to have the support of domestic violence services and support workers throughout that period. Their guidance, compassion, and understanding played a huge role in helping me find my way through it. Without that support, I honestly don’t know where I would be today. This book is ultimately about survival, growth, and finding your way back to yourself after losing sight of who you are. Looking back now, I’m incredibly proud of myself for leaving that relationship and rebuilding my life.
Q2. How hard was it to turn five years of toxic love into poetry?
I had written a lot of poems throughout that period of my life. Writing has always been therapeutic for me, so whatever I was experiencing naturally found its way onto the page. In many ways, the poems already existed. The difficult part was going back through years of work and bringing them together into a collection. What made that process especially challenging was that I didn’t fully understand how toxic the relationship was while I was in it. I didn’t recognise that I was experiencing domestic abuse until I had finally escaped. And I don’t say that lightly. It took me many attempts to leave over the years. Going back through those poems meant revisiting moments I had lived through in real time, but now with a completely different perspective. I could suddenly see the patterns, the control, and the harm that I couldn’t fully see when I was living it. In some ways, putting the collection together became a way of making sense of everything that had happened. It was difficult to relive those experiences, but it was also incredibly powerful. Looking back through the poems reminded me that I got away. I survived something brutal, and this collection became a record not only of that pain, but of the strength it took to overcome it.

Q3. How did the five sections shape the emotional journey?
The five sections allowed me to tell the story of the relationship and everything that followed in a way that felt honest and chronological. Honeymoon captures the excitement and hope that come with falling in love. It’s the stage where everything feels possible, and you’re seeing someone through rose-coloured glasses. Handcuffs mark the shift. It’s where the control, manipulation, and loss of freedom begin to emerge. Looking back, it was important for me to show how gradually that change happened, because toxic relationships rarely begin that way. Hangover explores the aftermath. It’s the heartbreak, confusion, grief, and emotional exhaustion that comes from trying to make sense of what you’ve been through. In many ways, it’s the section where reality starts to set in. Hindsight is about reflection. It’s where I began connecting the dots, understanding the patterns, and seeing the relationship for what it truly was. Distance brought clarity, and with that came difficult but necessary truths. Finally, Homecoming is about returning to myself. After years of feeling lost, it represents healing, self-acceptance, and finding my identity again. By the end of the book, home isn’t a place or a person; it’s me. Together, the five sections mirror the journey I lived through, from the excitement of new love to the reality of abuse, and ultimately to survival, healing, and reclaiming my life.
Q4. How do you decide what to reveal and what to protect?
I’ve always been brutally honest and raw in my writing. My books are built from real experiences, diary entries, emails I’ve written to myself in real time, and notebooks filled with poems from different periods of my life. Writing has always been my way of making sense of what I’m feeling, so authenticity is incredibly important to me. That said, there are still certain things I’m not ready to explore in my art, at least not yet. When putting a collection together, I’m conscious of what serves the story I’m trying to tell. I don’t want to repeat myself unless it shows progression or a shift in perspective. Ultimately, I try to be truthful without feeling pressured to reveal everything. Some stories are ready to be told, and some are still finding their way to the page.

Q5. How has music journalism shaped the rhythm of your poetry?
Music journalism has definitely influenced how I think about pacing, tone, and emotional impact. Spending years listening closely to artists and analysing lyrics teaches you a lot about storytelling and rhythm. I think that has naturally filtered into my poetry. I’m conscious of how a poem sounds when it’s read aloud, where a pause belongs, and how certain lines can land emotionally. Even though poetry and music are different mediums, they’re both trying to connect with people emotionally. A great song can make you feel understood in three minutes, and I think poetry can do the same thing on a page. Both journalism and poetry require careful listening, and I think that skill connects the two.
Q6. FM PRO TECH Q: How did you approach sequencing and pacing across the collection?
Sequencing was one of the most important parts of the process. I didn’t want the collection to feel like a series of isolated poems; I wanted it to function as a cohesive narrative. The five-section structure provided the framework, but within each section, I paid close attention to emotional pacing. Some poems are intense and confrontational, while others offer quieter moments of reflection. Because the collection follows the arc of a relationship and its aftermath, the sequencing felt quite natural. I wanted readers to move through the emotional highs and lows in a way that felt authentic, from the hopefulness of Honeymoon through to the self-discovery of Homecoming. It was important that each section had its own identity while still contributing to the larger narrative. The goal was to create a reading experience that felt natural and immersive, almost cinematic in its progression.

Q7. Do publicity, journalism, photography, and poetry feed each other?
Absolutely. At my core, I’m a creative person, so I don’t really separate those parts of myself. Whether I’m writing poetry, interviewing an artist, working on a publicity campaign, or taking photographs, I’m ultimately trying to tell a story or capture a feeling. Photography, in particular, has always felt very poetic to me. Sometimes a photograph inspires a poem, and sometimes a poem inspires the image I want to create. Both are about finding meaning in a moment and preserving it. The same applies to journalism and publicity. Through my work, I get to hear incredible stories from artists and creatives, and I’m constantly inspired by their experiences, perspectives, and resilience. I’m not usually someone who can sit down and decide to write on command. I need to feel that spark of inspiration. Because of that, I always keep a notebook, my phone, or a camera close by. You never know when a line, an image, a conversation, or a fleeting moment will become the seed of a poem. All of these creative outlets feed one another, and together they’ve shaped the way I see and document the world.
Q8. What did “homecoming” mean by the end of the book?
For me, homecoming wasn’t about returning to a place. It was about returning to myself. Toxic relationships can leave you disconnected from your instincts, your confidence, and even your sense of identity. By the time I reached the final section, I realised the journey wasn’t really about another person. It was about rediscovering who I was without them. Homecoming represents acceptance, healing, and learning to trust myself again.
Q9. Did helping artists tell their stories make it harder to tell your own?
In some ways, yes. When you spend so much time helping others shape and communicate their stories, it can be difficult to step into the spotlight yourself. I’m usually more comfortable asking questions than answering them. At the same time, working with artists has reinforced the importance of authenticity. I’ve seen how powerful honest storytelling can be, and that encouraged me to approach my own work with the same openness and vulnerability.
Q10. FM PRO TECH Q: How do you protect personal writing from becoming just “content”?
I think intention is everything. We live in a culture where there’s pressure to constantly share and package personal experiences for public consumption. For me, poetry exists outside of that mindset. The poems in Growing Pains weren’t written to generate engagement or reactions; they were written because I needed to understand what I was feeling, what I went through, in a way to process everything. If a piece of writing begins with genuine emotional necessity, it retains its integrity. The goal isn’t to create content. The goal is to create something truthful that resonates with others.
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