In your healing journey, it is not just about finding release, it’s also about meeting the dark.

The parts of you you’ve tried to hide, dismiss, or deny.

The emotions that made others uncomfortable, so you buried them.

The anger that was called “too much.”

The sadness that felt “too heavy.”

The needs that were labeled “too needy.”

Shadow work is not about fixing yourself.

It’s about finally turning toward yourself, with honesty, courage, and compassion.

Looking into the mirror of your life and saying:

I see you. Even here. Especially here.

I see the parts you’ve been running from, because they were hard to acknowledge, heavy to carry, too painful to face.

The places where shame lives. The places where guilt hides. The darkest corners of your being.

We all have them.

You can run, but you can’t hide from them forever.

Because one day, they will ask for their right to surface.

And that’s when the real work begins.

What is this work?

It’s holding space for the version of you that learned to survive. The messy one. The one who served us at some point but now, mostly hurts us.

The protector. The performer. The pleaser. The savior. The victim. The one who shut down.

Not to shame or blame you, but to understand you.

To honor the wisdom behind your defenses,

and then gently ask: Is this still serving me? Do I still need this to stay safe?

Shadow work is meeting your triggers with curiosity instead of judgment.

It’s remembering that your reactions aren’t flaws, they’re doorways. Guides towards those sensitive parts.

They lead you to unmet needs. To unprocessed grief.

To the child within you who still longs to be seen, accepted, and loved.

Your triggers are not the problem, they are the messengers.

They point you toward the tender places that are calling for your attention, presence, and care.

They guide you back to yourself.

This isn’t comfortable work. It’s not always pretty.

But it’s real. And it’s necessary.

Because when you face what you’ve been running from,

you free the parts of you that have been waiting to return Home.

You reclaim your wholeness,

not just the presentable parts,

but the full, raw, human truth of who you are.

This is the kind of work I do.

With myself. With the people I support.

Not from a place of fixing or diagnosing,

but from a place of reverence.

A sacred remembering.

You are not broken.

You are layered.

And every layer has a voice that wants to be heard.

With warmth, 🤍

Aniela

photo: Pinterest