MY STORY

Everyone experiences a turning point in life—an event, a realization, or a quiet moment of reckoning that shakes you awake and forces you to ask, “Who am I becoming? And how did I get here?” It doesn’t always have to be some grand, dramatic affair. It doesn’t even have to be negative. But it must be significant. It must stir something deep within. If you’re reading this, chances are, you’ve already had yours. And if you haven’t yet, don’t worry—it’s coming.

I remember mine vividly. I had just started university, and I was living in a perpetual state of exhaustion. Picture an overworked, burned-out psychology student who couldn’t keep her eyes open but somehow managed to rally for every party. Two days of relentless studying, followed by the desperate pursuit of a social escape—FOMO at its finest. Surrounded by people but feeling like the loneliest person in the room. True connection? It wasn’t even on my radar. I lived in my head, assuming the worst about everyone around me. I thought they were shallow, self-absorbed, and incapable of anything beyond surface-level interaction—yet, ironically, I was doing the same thing.

But why would I point the finger at myself? I was the Golden Child, the Special One, the one who could do no wrong. So instead of reflecting, I projected. And projected. And projected some more. I hurt someone’s feelings? Well, that’s their problem. Yeah, I would’ve hated me too.

Then came the day my close friend sat me down. She told me I’d hurt her feelings—excluded her, made her feel left out. And instead of listening to her, understanding her hurt, or validating her feelings, I got defensive. I deflected, almost insulted by the idea that she could think the worst of me. So, as I had done countless times before to avoid facing my discomfort, I shut her out. Just like that, I lost a friend.

The next morning, I woke up with heavy heart. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but something felt different. It was as if my soul was sending me a warning: if I kept going down this path, I’d end up completely isolated. So, I began researching. And that’s how I stumbled upon the concept of projection and shadow work. As a psychology student, I was trained to analyze and understand others, but I had never once thought to turn that lens inward.

Thus began my journey into shadow work, a practice that forces you to confront the parts of yourself you’d rather ignore. I started with shadow journaling, which, at its core, is about exploring those buried, often uncomfortable aspects of your psyche. It’s about understanding how your inner conflicts shape your external world. For example, we often project the qualities we dislike about ourselves onto others to avoid confronting them within ourselves. The goal of shadow work is to confront these projections, build mindfulness, and move toward personal wholeness.

One of my earliest journal entries read something like this:

“Sometimes, I am the problem. Today, I learned the importance of vulnerability. I learned that saying ‘sorry’ isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s an expression of empathy, of truly understanding and connecting with someone else. It means stripping away the walls I’ve built, shedding the fear and anger I’ve carried for so long. It means letting go of the notion that the world is out to get me and embracing the understanding that people are inherently good. It means listening—to hear, not just to respond. And that, I believe, is the path to humility.”

That one pen-to-paper moment was the beginning of a six-month journey that completely transformed my life. And yes, it’s still ongoing. Healing isn’t linear, and it doesn’t have a neat, tidy conclusion. Those months were filled with solitude, intense self-reflection, and more than a few gut-wrenching realizations. There’s this myth that spiritual healing is all crystals, meditation, and morning yoga. While those practices can be beneficial, they don’t touch the raw, messy work of healing.

True healing dismantles you before it rebuilds you. My entire worldview collapsed. Everything I thought I knew about myself, my upbringing, my relationships, even my spiritual beliefs—shattered. The dark night of the soul, anyone? More on that later.

But with that destruction came clarity. I finally understood why being confronted with someone else’s hurt would trigger me. I stopped deflecting blame and started genuinely empathizing with others. I realized why I had repeatedly fallen into toxic, narcissistic relationships—and I learned how to break the trauma bonds that had kept me trapped. Most importantly, I finally understood what it meant to truly connect with others—not just on the surface, but at the deepest, most unconditional level.

Today, I feel free. I look at others and, beyond their scars, I see their inherent purity. We were all born whole. We all experienced trauma, and whether it manifested in defensiveness, narcissism, promiscuity, or social anxiety—it’s okay. It’s not your fault. But if you know something needs to change and you’re not ready to take accountability for that change, this blog might not be for you—yet. Come back when you’re ready to step up. But if you are ready to take that leap, then I am excited for you.

The journey isn’t easy, but I promise you—it’s worth it.

Until then, sending love & light. 

Ayla