Your shadow self is the part of you that you’ve buried or hidden away, often without even realizing it, since you were a child. When we’re young, we absorb countless messages from the people we love about what parts of us are “good” and what parts are “bad.” Maybe you were praised for being polite or for sharing your toys, or perhaps you heard things like, “Don’t be selfish,” or “Good kids don’t act that way.” As children, we don’t yet have the ability to step back and decide what to take personally. Everything feels like it’s about us, and we internalize it all.

If someone we deeply love and depend on tells us we’re being bad or doing something wrong, we might start to believe that there’s something inherently wrong with us. To protect ourselves, we try to focus on the traits that earn love and approval—like being helpful, agreeable, or quiet. At the same time, we might start pushing down other parts of ourselves—our wants, needs, or feelings—especially if we were punished or shamed for expressing them. For example, maybe you learned early on that expressing anger wasn’t acceptable, or that crying too much made people uncomfortable. Over time, you might have hidden those emotions to fit in and feel safe.

As these messages pile up, they start to form the beliefs we hold about ourselves. We might believe we’re only lovable when we’re accommodating, or that wanting things for ourselves is selfish. These beliefs become so ingrained that we rarely stop to question them. But here’s the truth: just because you believe something doesn’t mean it’s true. Many of the stories we carry about ourselves are based on misunderstandings or on someone else’s subjective opinions. Recognizing this can be a powerful step toward freeing ourselves from these limiting beliefs.

This process often happens without us realizing it, and it’s shaped by the messages we receive. For some of us, those messages were direct and harsh—like being scolded or punished for wanting attention, for being “too much,” or for having big emotions. As a result, we create a kind of mask, or false self, to protect us and keep others happy. This mask becomes our way of surviving, but it can also keep us disconnected from who we really are.

It’s important to understand that the shadow self doesn’t just hold what we might call “negative” traits. It can also include beautiful and creative parts of us that weren’t nurtured or celebrated. Think about a child who loves to draw or sing but grows up in a household where academic success is prioritized. They might hear things like, “Stop wasting time,” or “Focus on what really matters,” and begin to believe that their artistic passions aren’t valuable. Over time, they may disconnect from those parts of themselves, tucking away talents and joys that felt dismissed or unimportant.
When we’re unaware of our shadow self, it has a way of showing up in how we see and judge others. For example, if you find yourself quick to label someone as selfish or arrogant, it might be worth reflecting on whether those traits exist in some small way within you—and whether you’ve been denying or avoiding them. It’s a hard truth to sit with, but the things that irritate us most about others often point to parts of ourselves that we’ve disowned. Sometimes, we even overcompensate by doing the opposite, like going out of our way to prove how generous or humble we are, as a way of avoiding our own discomfort.

This projection isn’t limited to the so-called “bad” traits, either. We also project positive qualities onto others. Maybe you’ve admired someone so much that they seem larger than life, like they’ve got it all figured out. It’s easy to forget that the qualities you see in them—their confidence, kindness, creativity—also exist within you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to recognize them in the first place. When we do the work of exploring our shadow self, we can start to see and reclaim those hidden strengths and gifts in ourselves.

At its core, your shadow self isn’t something to fear or avoid. It’s a part of you that’s longing to be seen and accepted. When we take the time to gently acknowledge and integrate these hidden parts—both the messy, complicated pieces and the beautiful, creative ones—we become more whole. Meeting your shadow self is really about meeting your full humanity. It’s about holding space for every part of who you are, even the parts you’ve been taught to hide. And as you learn to embrace all of yourself, you’ll find it becomes much easier to offer that same compassion and acceptance to others. This is the path to living as your fully expressed, authentic self.
​
Yes, it’s vulnerable work, and it takes courage. But the rewards—a deeper connection to yourself and to the world around you—are so worth it.

Why Do I Feel so Jealous??
 
Do you ever just get these feelings of jealousy when friends do something without you or when you feel left out and unseen by people you value highly? I know how hard and uncomfortable jealousy can be, but it’s often misunderstood. While jealousy may seem like a petty or irrational emotion- something that only happens when someone is insecure or selfish- for people with childhood trauma, jealousy may instead be touching on old wounds and unmet needs from the past.

How Jealousy Shows Up
Particularly for those of us who experienced trauma in childhood, jealousy can reflect deeper fears and long-held beliefs about love, worth, and belonging.
In relationships, you might find yourself feeling intensely jealous when your partner interacts with someone else, especially if they are close friends or colleagues. This isn't just about fear of infidelity; it can feel like a fear of abandonment, a fear that the love and attention you've always craved might be pulled away at any moment. In some cases, it reflects a deep insecurity about whether you’re truly valued, a feeling that you’ve carried with you for as long as you remember.
Jealous feelings can also come up in friendships. You might feel like you’re being left behind, whether it's seeing a friend form a new bond or feeling like you’re not as important to them as you used to be. For folks with childhood trauma, this often stems from a history of feeling overlooked or unloved, making the fear of being replaced or abandoned feel overwhelming.
Sometimes, jealousy shows up internally, perhaps when you see someone else achieving something you want or having something you think you’ll never have. This feeling of inadequacy may come from childhood, where love, approval, or success were tied to conditions or were inconsistently given. Jealousy in these cases might feel like a reminder of your own perceived shortcomings.

So why does this happen?
When you experience trauma in childhood—whether it's neglect, emotional abuse, or being parentified (put in a position where you're forced to take on adult responsibilities too early), it can leave lasting scars. These wounds shape how you see yourself and the world around you, and jealousy can emerge as a symptom of the deeper pain you're carrying.
For someone who grew up with inconsistent or unreliable caregivers, there’s often a deep, underlying fear of abandonment - that those who love them will eventually leave. This fear can amplify feelings of jealousy, as the possibility of being replaced or discarded feels too familiar.
Trauma can create a sense of emotional deprivation—like there was never enough affection, attention, or validation growing up. As a result, when someone experiences a sense of being “left out” or “not enough,” jealousy can arise as an emotional response to that lack. In these cases, the jealousy might not even be about the other person—it’s about the unmet emotional need that’s being triggered.
Childhood trauma can also create deep-seated feelings of low self-worth. When you feel unworthy of love, success, or attention, seeing someone else experience those things can stir up jealousy. It’s not just about wanting what they have, but about not being sure that you even deserve it for yourself.

So what can you do? It’s hard. You can still do it.
The hardest part of emotions is accepting them. It’s easy to beat yourself up for feeling jealous, but it’s important to approach the feeling with compassion. Jealousy doesn’t make you a bad person—it’s just an emotion, and it’s telling you something about your deeper fears or unmet needs. Acknowledging the feeling is the first step toward healing it.
Try to dig deeper into where your jealousy is coming from. Are there past wounds being triggered? Is there a fear of abandonment or not being good enough? Journaling or talking to a therapist about these feelings can help you make sense of them and understand their roots.
Trauma often leads to the belief that you’re not worthy of love or success, but these beliefs aren’t facts—they’re just patterns formed by past experiences. Begin to question these beliefs by reminding yourself of your value and accomplishments. It will take time, but learning to see your own value can decrease the feelings that jealousy is rooted in.
In relationships, it’s important to communicate about feelings of jealousy, especially if they’re triggered by past wounds. Talking about your feelings can bring understanding and reassurance from your partner or friends, which can help ease the fears that fuel jealousy.
Hardest of all, you may need to engage in self-compassion. Healing from childhood trauma is a journey, and part of that is learning to be kind to yourself when emotions like jealousy arise. Remember that you’re working to unlearn old patterns, and it's okay to experience setbacks along the way. Be gentle with yourself.

The holiday season is often described as “the most wonderful time of the year,” filled with warmth, togetherness, and joy. But for many, this time of year feels anything but wonderful. If you’re grieving the loss of a loved one or navigating the pain of estrangement, the holidays can be a stark reminder of what—or who—is missing.
It’s important to know that your feelings are valid, and you’re not alone. There are a couple of ways this can and do show up for folks. And man, it's so much harder at the holidays.

Grief from Loss: When Someone You Love is No Longer Here
​The absence of a loved one during the holidays can feel like a spotlight is shining on the empty space they once filled. Traditions that once brought joy might now feel hollow or bittersweet, and memories of past holidays can bring an aching sense of loss to the surface. One way to move through this grief is to find a way to honor the person you’re missing. Perhaps you light a candle in their memory or add something special to your holiday decorations that reminds you of them. It might help to share stories with others who loved them, keeping their spirit alive through connection. Some find comfort in starting a new tradition—a small act like making their favorite dish or donating to a cause they cared about can be a gentle way to bring them closer.
Most importantly, just allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling without judgment. Grief doesn’t follow a timeline, and it’s okay if the waves of sadness come and go, even years later.

Estrangement: The Grief of What Could Have Been
For those estranged from family, the holidays can bring a different kind of grief. It’s not just the absence of connection that hurts—it’s also the loss of what might have been, the idealized version of family that the season so often glorifies. Social media, holiday movies, and even advertisements can make it feel like everyone else is surrounded by love and joy, deepening the sense of isolation.
If this is your experience, it’s okay to acknowledge and grieve what’s missing. Family estrangement is complex, and so are the feelings it stirs. During the holidays, leaning on chosen family—the friends or loved ones who truly support and accept you—can offer a source of comfort. Creating new traditions that reflect who you are now may also help the season feel more like your own.
And it’s worth reminding yourself that your worth isn’t tied to whether your family can or will embrace you. You are deserving of love and connection, even if it doesn’t come from the people you expected.

Finding Comfort
The holidays don’t have to look a certain way to be meaningful. If the traditional gatherings or expectations feel too painful, you can give yourself permission to step back and do what feels right for you. Maybe that means spending the day in quiet reflection, or perhaps it’s finding solace in giving back to others. Volunteering may provide a sense of purpose, but you don't have to do anything at all if it doesn't feel right. Again, just allow yourself to be human and sad and understand that pain and loss are normal human emotions. Reaching out for support can also make a difference. Whether you confide in a trusted friend, join a support group, or work with a therapist, sharing your feelings can lighten the emotional weight you’re carrying.
Above all, remember that healing is not linear. Some days might feel lighter, and others might bring an overwhelming sense of loss. That’s okay. Healing isn’t about “getting over” grief but rather learning how to carry it while still finding moments of meaning and connection.

Redefining the Season
This holiday season, you have permission to experience the holidays in a way that honors your feelings. If that means stepping away from traditions that no longer serve you, that’s okay. If it means redefining the season to include moments of peace or even joy, that’s okay too.
Grief can reshape how we approach this time of year, but it doesn’t have to erase it. By creating space for yourself and your emotions, you may find comfort in places you didn’t expect. You’re not alone in this, and your experience matters—every part of it.

Childhood is where we first learn about relationships—how they work, what we can expect from others, and what it means to feel safe and loved. If you grew up in an environment of abuse or neglect, these early lessons can leave deep scars. As adults, the echoes of that trauma often show up in our closest relationships, sometimes in ways that feel confusing or painful. If this resonates with you, know that you’re not alone. Many people struggle to understand why their relationships feel so difficult, and exploring the impact of past trauma is a powerful step toward healing.
Trauma has a way of shaping how we view the world, especially in our interactions with others. When a child grows up in an unsafe or unpredictable environment, their brain and body adapt to survive. They may become hyper-aware of others’ emotions, constantly scanning for danger, or they might withdraw completely to protect themselves from hurt. Over time, these survival strategies turn into habits and beliefs—ways of thinking and acting that feel normal but might actually make it harder to connect with others.
Attachment styles are one way to understand how early experiences shape our relationships. A secure attachment forms when a caregiver consistently meets a child’s emotional and physical needs, teaching the child that relationships are safe and dependable. However, abuse or neglect can lead to insecure attachment styles. For example, someone with an avoidant attachment may have learned to suppress their needs because expressing them led to rejection or punishment. Another person with an anxious attachment might cling to others, fearing abandonment because their caregivers were inconsistent. These patterns don’t mean something is “wrong” with you; they’re natural responses to difficult circumstances.
One of the most complex ways childhood trauma affects relationships is through the phenomenon of replaying the past in the present. Without realizing it, many people seek out relationships that mirror their early experiences—not because they want to relive the pain, but because they’re trying to fix it. If a caregiver was critical or emotionally unavailable, it might feel oddly familiar to choose a partner who behaves the same way. This isn’t a conscious choice but rather an unconscious attempt to rewrite the story. The hope is often, “If I can make this person love me, maybe it will heal the wounds from my past.” The thing is, this pattern often leads to more hurt, reinforcing the very beliefs that make relationships feel so challenging.
Navigating relationships with a history of trauma can feel like walking a tightrope. On one hand, there’s a deep longing for connection—for someone who will finally offer the love and safety that was missing in childhood. On the other hand, there’s a profound fear of being hurt again. You might find yourself hypervigilant to signs of rejection, reading too much into small gestures or words. Or you might struggle to trust someone who shows genuine kindness, wondering when the other shoe will drop. Relationships can feel like a constant push and pull between wanting closeness and needing to protect yourself from harm.
Breaking this cycle is hard, but it’s absolutely possible. The first step is awareness—recognizing how the past influences your present. This can feel overwhelming, but it’s also empowering. When you see the patterns, you have the opportunity to change them. Therapy can be an incredible tool for exploring these dynamics in a safe, supportive space. A therapist can help you understand your attachment style, process unresolved pain, and learn healthier ways to connect with others.
Healing doesn’t mean erasing the past; it means finding new ways to live with it. This might involve setting boundaries to protect your energy or learning to identify relationships that feel safe and supportive. It might look like taking small risks to trust again, even when it feels scary. Over time, these steps can help you build relationships that reflect your growth and resilience rather than your wounds.
If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in these words, I want you to know it’s okay to feel stuck or unsure. Healing takes time, and it doesn’t happen in a straight line. There will be setbacks and moments of doubt, but there will also be breakthroughs—times when you realize you’re no longer bound by the patterns of your past. It’s never too late to rewrite your story and create relationships that bring you the safety and love you deserve.
You are not alone in this journey. Whether you seek support through therapy, self-reflection, or leaning on trusted friends, know that healing is possible. You’ve already taken the first step by reading this and considering how your past has shaped you. That kind of courage is where transformation begins.

The election has brought up a lot of difficult emotions. People are cutting themselves off (no judgement here!) from people in their lives who supported the opposing candidate and are feeling lost and confused and, for a lot of my clients with trauma histories, wondering how to make sense of a world that doesn't feel welcoming to them. 

I hear you. I get it.

If you need to remove people from your life who are toxic to your mental well-being, whether temporarily or permanently, that can be a part of healing. 

If you refuse to allow other people to invade your space with negativity, whether in person or on social media, you are absolutely allowed to that. If you don't want to forgive folks or if you just need time away to gather your strength and courage to move forward in a way that feels safe for you, do that. Unfriend, block, whatever feels safest for you. You're allowed to stay true to yourself.

I know a lot of people insist on forgiveness to those who hurt you. If that's necessary for you, then work on ways to forgive. But if you don't feel like forgiving folks who won't acknowledge that their voices are harming you, hold off. Your feelings are VALID. 

If you need a safe space to discuss this, as home may not be a place where conversation around politics is welcomed, please turn to a mental health professional. Confidentiality, safety,  and non-judgmental support are available for you.

Take care of yourself, okay? You're worth taking care of. 

It can be really hard to tell folks I don't take insurance. I was in network with insurances for most of my career and I finally gave up on it. I know it might seem unfair when you have insurance that you can't always find therapists who accept it. I had some of the same issues myself when seeking a compatible therapist to guide me and listen to me. I can give you the whole list of reasons, of which there are many, for why I don't accept insurance anymore but instead I'm going to link you to an NPR article on why a lot of a lot of clinicians have stopped taking insurance. It doesn't change the frustration you might feel when seeking someone in network, but it does shine a light on what it takes away from a provider if they continue to take insurance as their career progresses.

I hope this is helpful in some way. 

www.npr.org/sections/shots-health-news/2024/08/24/nx-s1-5028551/insurance-therapy-therapist-mental-health-coverage

Trauma is a thing that happens to people. It's not deserved. It's not "your own fault" or "a lesson to be learned." It's an abnormal event that reshaped what might have been a peaceful or happy life. Trauma can show up as blank spots in your memory, or blank years. It can manifest as feelings of shame about yourself or thinking that you are fundamentally broken because of how you were treated. You don't feel like your relationships reflect the work you put into them. Or perhaps you break away from relationships, not understanding why anyone would love you.  Trauma doesn't look the same for everyone but, man, it shows up. 

A trauma response is a *normal* response to an abnormal situation. It's not a flaw. It's not being "too much." It's not because you're "not enough." It doesn't arise because you  are weak. It's how your brain tried to keep you safe in unsafe situations. Lacking a supportive and consistent adult in your young life, your brain grew in ways to adapt to how you were treated. It's okay to have trauma in your history or in your right-now.

​Emotions can be painful, but they are absolutely normal and having them, even if they are very big, is the human condition. Not a flaw. Not a break. Not a weakness. Just human.

If you cannot manage them alone, ask for help. Then, accept help. Even if it's hard.

Just because you believe something doesn't mean it's true.

Your brain will tell you anything to keep you safe. "You can't, you're not good enough, you're too much, you're not enough, just don't try..." Your brain is trying to protect you by keeping you small, hidden, safe. You believe the thoughts because your brain said them with such certainty.

Now read that first line again. Thank your clever brain for trying to help, but also... It may  not be telling you the truth.
​
Joanne Mackie, LMHC, CCTP
​

It IS hard right now. It's not just you.
It can feel exhausting and depressing and so incredibly unceasingly boring and aggravating to live in our new COVID reality. Whatever you're feeling... and it's probably falling on a scale of I-just-don't-care-anymore to OH-MY-GOD-WHAT-NOW???... is okay. 

• Sad? That's okay.
• Depressed? That's okay.
• Anxious? That's okay.
• Angry? That's okay too!
• Ambivalent? Yep.
• Meh? 100% with you.
• I've never been less motivated to do anything in my life? I hear ya.

If you are feeling any of these things, you're not messing up. Please don't point the finger of blame at yourself and think "I should be doing, being, thinking, feeling, etc. BETTER than this." Whatever social media yardstick you're using to measure yourself isn't applicable. AT ALL.  Just do, be, think, feel the best you can. That's good enough, and good enough right now is pretty damn good.

If what you are feeling is too much, too frightening, or too overwhelming, please reach out to a professional for help.