The Inward Spiral: You, Me, and the People We Pretend to Be

Vanessa Harris
Aug 20
4 min read

Have you ever felt like no matter how hard you try to be a good partner, something still feels off? Like you’re showing up, doing the work, saying the right things, and yet there’s this quiet disconnect? I’ve been reading The Mastery of Love by Don Miguel Ruiz, and something he said really stuck with me. In every relationship, there aren’t just two people involved. There are six.

That might sound strange at first, but when he broke it down, it made a lot of sense. And it honestly helped me understand why love can feel so complicated.

The Six Versions of Us

According to Ruiz, every person carries two images: the one we show the world, and the one we carry quietly inside. The outer image might look confident or easy-going or even “fine,” but the inner one is often where the doubts live. The pressure. The insecurity. The parts of us we don’t let people see.

Now imagine two people in a relationship, each with those two versions of themselves. That’s four versions already. Then, add in how each person sees the other: what they want them to be, expect them to be, or assume they are. That makes six. And all those versions are bumping into each other, trying to connect, trying to be seen, trying to be loved.

Where Things Get Messy

The mess lives in the gaps. The space between who we are and who we think we should be. The space between how someone acts and how we wish they’d act. The space between our inner truth and the outer version we present to the world.

Ruiz writes, “So many humans are suffering because of the false images we try to project.” And that has been true in my life. I’ve caught myself trying to be someone I thought would be easier to love. Or trying to fix myself so someone wouldn’t leave. Or hiding parts of me that felt like too much.

But I’ve also been on the other side, expecting someone to fit an image I had of them, instead of seeing who they really were. It never leads to connection. Just frustration, confusion, and distance.

The Story of Love

Ruiz shares a story about a man who didn’t believe love existed. For years, he moved through life convinced it was just a myth, until one day he finally experienced love for himself. But instead of nurturing it within, he placed all of it into the hands of his partner, as if she alone was responsible for holding and protecting it.

Soon the pressure became too much. No one can carry the weight of being another person’s entire source of love. Love cannot survive when it’s treated like a possession. It can only thrive when it is alive in each person separately, flowing between them without trying to collapse two people into one.

That story made me pause. How often do we hand someone our whole heart with the unspoken expectation that they’ll protect, manage, and sustain it? How often do we forget that love is not something we give away completely, but something we cultivate within ourselves while sharing with another?

The Bigger Picture

This isn’t just a personal thing. Ruiz calls it a mass sickness. We’ve learned to value appearances over truth. We focus so much on how we look to others, and so little on how we actually feel. We believe the outer image is real, and the inner one is flawed.

That disconnect spreads into our relationships, our families, culture, and our sense of worth.

But it doesn’t have to stay that way.

What I’m Learning

I’m learning to notice when I slip into image-management mode. When I’m more concerned with looking okay than being okay. I’m learning to pause when I find myself expecting someone to behave a certain way, especially when they haven’t agreed to play the role I’ve written for them.

And I’m learning that real connection doesn’t come from perfection. It comes from honesty. From softening into who we really are, and letting others do the same.

An Invitation

If you’re noticing tension in your relationships, or even just within yourself, maybe take a moment to ask:

Am I trying to live up to an image?
What’s the truth I’m not letting myself speak?
Is there someone I’m trying to make fit a story, instead of letting them just be?

No judgment, just curiosity. Because that’s where things start to shift.

At Ayana Flow, we’re all about letting go of performance and returning to presence. Letting yourself be seen. Letting others surprise you. Letting love feel more like freedom and less like a role you have to play.

The more honest we can be with ourselves, the more space we create for real connection. With others, and with the self beneath all the stories.