„I’m special – and modest about it, too.“
There’s a certain way of talking about yourself that’s become almost a genre. People share their quirks, their little flaws, their eccentricities. They come across as self-aware, charmingly imperfect, emphasize their normality – while subtly letting you know:
I’m smarter than average, but I can still laugh at myself.
At first glance, it’s charming. But it’s also: painfully banal.
Because what’s presented as self-reflection is often nothing more than a soft-focus mirror. A bit of fishing for compliments. The so-called weaknesses being shared are rarely uncomfortable. They’re not raw, not contradictory, not risky. They don’t hurt anyone – least of all the person sharing them.
To be clear, I don’t mean people have an obligation to expose themselves. Everyone should share only what they want to share. But this kind of curated vulnerability is a very manipulative kind of truth.
It reminds me of something a career coach once told me:
“When you’re asked about your weaknesses in a job interview, never tell the real ones. Say: shoes. Handbags. Chocolate.”
And society agrees. No one’s going to say: I’m applying because I need the money.
And a lot of these personal narratives read exactly like that: Weaknesses that make you smile. That create a sense of closeness without actually revealing anything. But none that cast a real shadow.
What rarely shows up:
– I secretly believe I’m better than most people (Better-than-average effect)
– I can dish it out, but I can’t take it
– I think others need to “do the work” – while ignoring what’s right in front of me
– I sell calm and emotional mastery, but I’m seething with rage and explode at the smallest pushback
– I talk behind people’s backs because I’m too scared to say it to their face – and because I want to feel superior while playing the victim to avoid responsibility
Shall I go on?
Those are real shadows. Uncomfortable, contradictory parts of us we don’t want to look at – let alone share.
And that’s what shadow work is not about: It’s not about admitting you sometimes watch trash TV or eat too much chocolate. It’s about looking. Really looking. Maybe with a belief lurking underneath, like:
„I have to be a good person with flawless traits – or I don’t deserve to exist.“
Shadow work isn’t Instagram-compatible.
It’s not: “Oops, I ate too much chocolate.”
It hurts. It’s messy. And it’s honest.
That’s exactly why it’s valuable.
It’s not about tearing yourself down or proving you’re a terrible person. It’s not about making a public apology.
It’s about cracking open the hardened identity – the façade – and letting some air in.
So the stuck energy of shame and guilt can be released – without everything collapsing into an identity crisis.
And that happens the moment you celebrate that you are everything – and can be everything. You don’t have to be a good person (whatever “good” even means – that’s a whole different conversation). You don’t have to be honest. You don’t have to be generous.
You can. Because you want to. Because it lights you up and sets you free.
What won’t set you free is thinking: I’m only allowed to be good – so I sweep everything else under the rug because it doesn’t fit the image.
That’s an energy leak. A block that keeps you stuck.
But when you look – and understand:
– Why you do it
– Consciously choose whether you want to shift it or stay with it
– Close it with either an action plan or a letting-go plan
That’s alignment.
Not: I suppress this part of me and use everyone around me as a projection screen for it.
Right?
Until next time,
M
PS: If you want to
• name what you feel but can’t quite articulate
• reconnect to intuitive intelligence without bypassing the mind
• shift out of subtle freeze into aliveness
• think clearly without collapsing into overthinking
• access desire without pressure
• Create (manifest) from a grounded and sovereign identity, rather than from fear.
You can explore what I’m currently offering HERE.