Shadow work is not enough

Kicking off season 2 by kicking myself in the butt for once again thinking a good life was about focusing solely on my own damn self, conforming to the norm (or whatever that is), & being "good."

Hi Pretty Humans,

Welcome to week one, season two of The Messy Middle.

If you’re new here, feel free to bop back to Season One and check out the archive.

Spring has sprung.

Flowers are doing that opening thing. Grass is doing that gettin’ greener thing. Humans are…having allergy attacks and trying to not use every sunny day as an excuse to drink IPA thing. Or maybe that’s just me.

Change swirls around me like a little cherry blossom hurricane, and I find myself wanting to harness it. Grab it with both hands and tame it. To become the master of its transformative energy and ride it to the highest of heights!

Giddy up! LET’S BECOME GODLIKE!

Hold your metaphorical horses, Rach.

That is—I remind myself—unproductive.

This, I know, is old Rachel seizing opportunities to re-invent herself, make lofty goals, and get rid of those icky, ugly, unwanted parts of self once and for all!

What if instead of trying to change myself, I simply noticed the change around me? What if instead I admired swirling petals and let them reach their final resting place? What if I let it be ok for me, and everything around me, to be exactly as it was?

Season two’s theme is this: Accepting parts of self.

This is especially relevant to me as I move through eating disorder treatment. It’s also relevant while dating, as I notice ways I project my perfectionism onto others. As my therapist said, “nobody is going to be everything always. At some point we have to ask ourselves how we can accept the things we don’t like about the people we love.”

this was a major theme in my divorce—my ex used to tell me he thought i no longer liked him. there were things i didn’t like, but did that mean i didn’t love him? read more about my divorce in my memoir, “Where the River Flows.”

*also if it bothers you that sometimes i ignore technical writing rules like cApItaliZatiOn, plz refer to my past life where i cArE. no one is editing this but me, i am CE-HO of this publication, and rulez don’t belong here.*

So, what exactly does that mean, accepting parts of self?

Last night I was telling a friend about this season’s new theme over a bottle of champagne (god I love housewarming gifts). He asked what I meant by “accepting parts of self.”

“It isn’t exactly the same as shadow work, although there are similarities,” I told him.

“While it is about accepting the parts of my personality I might reject or try to change, it’s also accepting parts of my relationships that I deem imperfect. The ways in which my environment or life circumstance are’t inherently ideal. That maybe it’s ok for life to feel like a solid 6 or 7 on a day to day basis instead of grasping for 10s. That maybe, finding peace with what’s not perfect is the path to contentment.”

Accepting parts of self means finding comfort in the middle space. C’mon you knew I’d go there.

I had a similar conversation with a former client this weekend:

“How is life, lovely?” I asked her.

“You know, it’s fine,” she said. “And that’s fine.” We both smiled, knowing that after years of looking for climactic joy, it was life in the 6s and 7s that brought the most relief.

So much of my life has been about seeking climactic joy.

A state of euphoria. Riding the rush to reach those highest heights (and highs). Looking for life to feel like a constant 10, because anything less must mean I’m a failure.

This only led to big crashes (enter depressive episodes, self-sabotage, or burnout). Sure, I felt some 10s, but life felt turbulent. I couldn’t rely on what my emotional state would be, and I always felt like something bad was around the corner.

To prevent that “something bad,” I spent a good chunk of my life trying to be “good.”

I thought that if I was more beautiful, more pleasant, better behaved, better disciplined…better, more, just something else…I could stop a crash from coming. I’d be impervious to the lows of life.

This, I know now, is ridiculous and rooted in years of internalized messaging from purity culture and the ways a misogynistic, capitalist, individualistic society has taught me to hate my body, keep my ideas to myself, avoid conflict, and rely solely on myself.

Screw community! Screw being different! Conform, but don’t connect! Stay the same, but stay apart! Do you feel better? No? Good. Buy this and you will!

Years of my life were devoted to being a “good girl.”

Tattoos in odd places? Tell no one! Photos of myself in a bikini on the internet? A slut for sure! Stay pure. Stay pleasant. Stay perfectly small and invisible.

Purity culture emboldened me with strict beliefs about what was acceptable. And for a long time I felt shame for wanting to take any other path. For wanting to express myself sexually. For wanting to be loud in public places. For being bisexual. For the way I conceptualize mental health and finding relief. For fucking any other way of existing than the rubric laid in front of me.

It’s taken a long time for me to accept these parts of myself and do shame-reduction work. And, I’m realizing how much shame I still hold in so many other areas of my life. Shame for what I want my relationships to look like, shame for how I interact with others, shame for my hobbies or pleasures.

Shame is the ultimate mirror for what we’ve lost along the way. For what we’ve hidden or tried to change for fear of what everyone else will think. Where shame lives is where acceptance needs residence.

Now, I’m seeking environments that empower me to build my own rubric. Where my differences are celebrated and it’s safe to live life at a 6 or 7. Where my relationships are collaborative creations, not molds made by someone else’s outline.

This is why accepting parts of self, to me, is not just about integration of the shadow self (though it’s a component).

Shadow work is only one piece of the puzzle. Shadow work, like a lot of western healing, is rooted in individualism and focuses on the self. But we don’t exist alone—we exist within the context of an entire system of moving parts and living beings.

Accepting parts of self must include this entire ecosystem. It must include our fears around how we relate. Around life in the 6s and 7s, and the state of our emotional selves. Around what happens when we show up vocal, alive, and vibrant, and the possibility that we might not be liked by all.

This season, we will embark on a journey of understanding this ecosystem.

Of getting clear on the web we’ve woven in our lives, and asking hard questions about what we’ve built. Noticing where shame resides, and how it stops us from settling into who we are. About fear of being different, fear of judgment, fear of rejection, and the ways conflict can actually cultivate closeness.

About living boldly in our skin, freely in our relationships, and intentionally in our communities.

This is what season two is about. The rubric. The network. The big, beautiful web of our lives and where we’ve covered it in red tape or blurred it out for fear of being judged.

Let’s begin.

Journaling Prompts: answer in the comments! (yes community wellness! yes connection! yes differences and growth edges!)

Today’s prompts will help you build insight on how shame, seeking highs, or fear has altered your ability to fully settle into your fabulous, totally yours, life ecosystem.

1. What feel like the components of my life ecosystem? (i.e. relationships, physical health, mental health, hobbies, work, etc).

2. Which component do I experience the most confidence in?

3. How does shame play a role in my life ecosystem?

4. Which component am I the most fearful of accepting, and why?

5. When I look at the network of my life, where am I holding back, and why?

6. In what ways have I tried to change other people in my life, and how has this served me? Them?

7. What would it mean if I accepted things in my life ecosystem that weren’t “perfect” or culturally deemed “good”?

I love you little messy gremlins.

You are brave for asking these questions. You are bold for listening to the heart’s true song. [plus some other metaphor that feels like Disney blue birds fluttering over your head.] You cute.

I am so eternally grateful you are here. Without you my writing means nothing, and you keep me going. I could not be here today if it weren’t for your support, readership, and shared vulnerability. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Here’s to season two of The Messy Middle—may it be even messier, wilder, and uncertain.

All my messy love,
Rach

Today’s newsletter was available for free & paid subscribers. If you’d like access to every weekly newsletter, the mess hall chat, & weekly stories of conversations with strangers, it would mean so much if you upgraded to a paid subscription. Paid subscriptions are only $5/month, or $50/year (2 months free).

You can read chapter one of my book free here. Download my free guided journals here. Take my Writing Masterclass here.