Jude Paler
We all have parts of ourselves we’d rather not look at.
The anger that bubbles up too quickly. The envy we’re ashamed to admit. The moments we lash out, then regret it.
Often, these pieces of us are tucked away into what Carl Jung called the “shadow“—the hidden aspects of our personality that we reject or deny.
But here’s the thing: ignoring your shadow doesn’t make it disappear. It makes it louder in subtler ways. It shows up in strained relationships, poor boundaries, low self-worth, or overreactions we can’t quite explain.
I’ve done my fair share of shadow work—and it’s not always pleasant. But it’s powerful. It’s the kind of inner work that leads to real freedom.
In this article, I’ll walk you through a grounded, step-by-step approach to healing the wounded self through shadow work. We’ll draw from psychology, Buddhist philosophy, and personal experience. And I’ll also share a teaching story that helped me rethink what it means to truly release what no longer serves.
Let’s start with the steps.
Step 1: Recognize your emotional triggers
The shadow often reveals itself in your reactions—especially the intense or disproportionate ones.
Maybe someone criticizes you and you spiral for hours. Or you see someone succeed and feel an unspoken bitterness. These emotional spikes are road signs. They point toward unacknowledged pain, insecurity, or unmet needs.
Psychologists refer to this as “projection.” We tend to project the disowned parts of ourselves onto others. The more strongly you react to something outside of you, the more likely it’s connected to something unresolved within.
So the first step is curiosity. Instead of judging your reaction, pause and ask: What is this really about? What part of me feels unseen, unsafe, or unloved right now?
That question alone can shift your relationship with your emotions from resistance to insight. Over time, these questions create a new inner habit—one of honesty and gentle inquiry rather than suppression or blame.
Step 2: Name what you’ve disowned
Shadow work is about reclaiming the pieces of yourself you’ve learned to reject—sometimes from childhood, sometimes from cultural or social conditioning.
Were you told it’s bad to cry? To get angry? To want attention?
Those messages often lead us to bury those traits. But buried doesn’t mean gone. It means suppressed—and suppression always seeks expression. If you don’t consciously reintegrate those parts, they leak out unconsciously.
Take some time to reflect: What emotions or traits do I judge harshly in myself? What do I feel I’m “not allowed” to be?
I once believed being assertive meant being selfish. So I avoided speaking up. But that buried part of me came out in passive-aggressive ways. Naming that helped me begin to reclaim healthy assertiveness as part of my wholeness.
Keep in mind that some parts of your shadow might be painful memories, while others are powerful traits you simply learned to downplay. Rediscovering these forgotten aspects of yourself can be surprisingly liberating.
Step 3: Create space to meet the shadow
Once you’ve identified what you’ve disowned, the next step is to meet it with compassion.
This can be done through journaling, guided meditation, or inner dialogue. I often use a practice where I visualize sitting across from that wounded part of myself—as if it were a younger version of me—and ask what it needs.
This isn’t about analyzing. It’s about listening. Shadow work isn’t intellectual. It’s relational. You’re building trust with the parts of yourself you abandoned.
In Buddhism, the principle of metta (loving-kindness) teaches us to extend compassion not just outward, but inward. Can you offer kindness to your anger? To your shame? To the child within who didn’t feel seen?
That kindness is the soil in which integration happens. Without it, even the most insightful self-awareness can stay stuck in the head, disconnected from the heart.
Step 4: Reframe the narrative
Every shadow contains a story. Maybe it’s “I’m too much,” or “If I show weakness, I’ll be rejected.” These stories were often formed to keep us safe. But if we don’t update them, they become cages.
Reframing means seeing the purpose that shadow once served—and gently rewriting the story so it reflects the truth of who you are now.
Instead of “I’m too sensitive,” it becomes: “My sensitivity helps me tune into others.” Instead of “I’m bad for being angry,” it becomes: “My anger signals when my boundaries are being crossed.”
This doesn’t mean glorifying the shadow. It means understanding its role—and choosing to reclaim its energy in a healthier form.
It also means embracing a more dynamic view of identity. You’re allowed to grow, to change your mind, and to hold multiple truths. The shadow is not your enemy—it’s a call to grow into your full complexity.
Step 5: Practice conscious release
The final step is release—not by pushing the shadow away, but by letting go of the grip it once had on you.
This is where mindfulness becomes essential. As the Buddha taught, freedom isn’t about avoiding pain—it’s about changing our relationship to it.
Try this: the next time a shadow reaction arises, pause. Breathe. Name it. Say to yourself, This is the old story. I see it. I don’t need to follow it.
Each time you do this, you interrupt the loop. You remind your nervous system that it’s safe to choose differently. And slowly, the charge softens.
Release is a practice, not a single moment. Be patient with yourself. Some patterns may resurface again and again—and that’s okay. Each time you meet them with awareness, you loosen their grip just a little more.
A Buddhist story: the visitor at the door
There’s a well-known teaching in Buddhism about Mara, the demon who tempted the Buddha under the Bodhi tree. Even after enlightenment, Mara would still visit from time to time. But instead of resisting him, the Buddha would greet Mara warmly: “Ah, I see you, Mara. Come, let’s have tea.”
That’s shadow work in a nutshell.
The goal isn’t to eliminate the shadow. It’s to recognize it, welcome it, and stop letting it run the show from behind the curtain.
When we stop fearing our internal visitors, they lose their power. And often, they transform.
Mindfulness perspective: releasing with awareness
In mindfulness practice, we don’t chase after transformation. We simply observe. And that observation itself becomes healing.
I’ve found that when I hold space for my shadow with calm awareness—not judging it, not indulging it—it starts to integrate on its own.
This practice is rooted in anicca, the Buddhist principle of impermanence. Everything changes when we stop clinging to it—including the parts of ourselves we once feared.
When you meet your wounded self with attention and acceptance, you begin to see that what once felt fixed is actually fluid. And that’s where freedom lives.
When we bring mindfulness to the shadow, we step out of reactive patterns and into presence. And in presence, even our darkest fears can start to loosen their hold.
Conclusion: Wholeness is already within you
Shadow work isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about becoming whole.
You’re not broken. You’re just divided. And each step you take toward your shadow is a step toward integration, resilience, and peace.
As I’ve learned through both Buddhist practice and personal experience, healing doesn’t mean erasing the past. It means walking forward with all parts of yourself—awake, aware, and unafraid.
Let your shadow speak. Let your awareness listen. And trust that even the darkest places hold the light of becoming.
The road to wholeness isn’t always comfortable—but it is deeply human. And every step you take toward it matters.
