🌘 Shadow Work: Freedom to Be Real

“What we resist will continue to persist.” – Carl Jung

Carl Jung, often called the grandfather of the shadow, gave language to the buried landscape within us—the subconscious chamber where memories, traumas, emotional loops, and old narratives quietly dwell. This is the place we tend to ignore. The place we dress up and tuck away. But make no mistake: we all have shadows. The question is, have you faced yours?

Shadow work means different things to different people. It’s a deeply personal experience—how we choose to either acknowledge or continue suppressing the parts of ourselves we fear most. I’ve worn the “It’s fine. I’m fine” mask. A guise of ease and agreeability. I became the “go with the flow” girl—the one who stayed silent, smiled through wounds, and avoided conflict even at the expense of her soul.

Jung described the shadow as the reservoir of emotions like anger, jealousy, sadness, and apathy. These evolve depending on our upbringing, cultural norms, and personal definitions of “acceptable behavior.” But shadow work doesn’t ask us to cast these parts out. It asks us to listen. To give them room to breathe. And then—when we’re ready—to find a way to integrate them alongside our light.

💫 Integration is everything.

As I wandered through Reims and Lille, I saw contrast everywhere. Stark historical relics standing proud beside modern buildings. Cobblestone roads morphing into sleek asphalt. The old and the new coexisting—not in competition, but in conversation. No part of the past was erased to make space for the future. They found a way to live together.

This, too, is the spirit of shadow work.

You don’t need to “fix” or “fight” the darker emotions. You need to feel them. Give them your attention. Allow them to flow through you so they can soften, so they can heal. This isn’t a one-meditation-and-you’re-free kind of process. It’s the long road. The brave road. The lifelong journey of self-awareness, self-compassion, and radical honesty.

And no, feeling your shadow doesn’t give you license to lash out. Quite the opposite—it gives you the capacity to recognize what’s alive inside you so it doesn’t unconsciously direct your life or harm those around you.

✨ Feel it so you can heal it.

As I prepare to bid France au revoir and move on to my next chapter, I carry with me its gift: a reminder that contrast isn’t chaos. It’s clarity. It’s the invitation to look deeper, to soften resistance, and to embrace both sides as sacred.