You Can't Heal What You Can't See. What My Shadow Taught Me About Myself.

Everybody wants to talk about healing until healing starts exposing the parts of us that aren't cute.

Because apparently our "healing era" is supposed to consist of candles, boundaries, affirmations, drinking water, and peacefully cutting people off.

But baby...I found that it was a lot deeper.

Sometimes healing is realizing you were the problem too.

And boy didn't I see that part of me.

I've been doing a lot of shadow work lately, and one thing I've learned is that your shadow isn't necessarily some evil version of you hiding in a basement waiting to destroy your life.

It's the hurt part of you. She's usually hurt. She's the jealous part. She comes out as the controlling part.

The part that wants somebody to regret losing you.

She is the part that plays games, and she always wants "1 up"

You are acting as if you don't care.

Meanwhile, you absolutely care.

Your shadow can be the part of you that posts the subliminal message, gives somebody the silent treatment, becomes territorial, competes with people you swear you're not competing with, or suddenly needs to prove how happy and healed you are.

It sounds like the worst part of you right?

And before anybody gets offended, I'm talking about me too.

I've had to look at some of my own behavior and ask who was this really for?

And you're not sure whether you were expressing yourself or hoping a particular person saw it?

You're not even sure if you were setting a boundary or secretly hoping your absence would punish them?

I started to think was I being independent?

Or was I saying, "Since you didn't choose me, I'm going to prove I never needed you anyway"?

There's a difference.

And that's where shadow work gets uncomfortable.

Your ego loves to give you a beautiful explanation for everything you do.

I'm just loyal.

I'm just protecting my peace.

I'm just telling the truth.

I'm just independent.

But sometimes loyalty has an expectation attached to it.

Sometimes "protecting your peace" is punishment.

Sometimes "telling the truth" is resentment on steroids.

And sometimes "I don't need anybody" really means:

"I needed people before, and they didn't show up for me."

That doesn't make you a terrible person.

It makes you a person with wounds, defenses, fears, and parts of yourself that still need attention.

The goal isn't to become ashamed of your shadow.

You can use your shadow as a strength.

The goal is to recognize when she takes the wheel.

Jealousy might be protecting your fear of being replaced.

Anger might be protecting hurt.

Control might be protecting helplessness.

That desperate need to prove yourself might be protecting the part of you that once felt invisible.

So instead of immediately acting on the emotion, get curious about it.

Ask yourself:

What am I actually feeling?

What am I trying to make this person feel?

What do I need right now?

And here's one I've had to ask myself:

Would I still say or post this if the person who hurt me never saw it?

That was one I struggled with.

That question will clean up a social media timeline real quick.

I've learned that my shadow doesn't need to be destroyed.

She needs to be heard.

There were times when she came out in friendships, and it was ugly. I felt like I couldn't control it. It felt like a monster. Until I was able to recognize what a shadow was.

It made me be able acknowledge the jealous part without competing.

I was finally able to acknowledge the angry part without punishing.

The abandoned part without chasing.

And that felt like freedom.

I can acknowledge the part that wants to be chosen—and choose her myself.

That's healing too.

Healing is not pretending you've transcended every ugly emotion.

It's not becoming "unbothered." because everyone feels

You don't need permission to feel.

Because certain things do hurt, we are becoming conscious enough to say:

I see this part of myself. I understand why she's here. But she doesn't get to run my life anymore.

Because your shadow doesn't need the steering wheel.

Sometimes she just needs a hug.

— DB4A Thoughts