The Shadow, The Mask, and Me: My Jungian Awakening
- Vanessa Harris
- Apr 7
- 4 min read
Carl Jung once wrote, “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” For most of my life, I didn’t even realize I was wearing a mask. I just thought I was surviving. I didn’t know that the discomfort I felt, the restlessness, the drive, the defiance, was a signal from something deeper, a pull toward authenticity I hadn’t yet named.
It would take years of trying to be someone else, of chasing what looked like success, before I woke up and realized: I had built a life that looked good from the outside, but wasn’t mine on the inside.
The Persona and the Performer
As a teenager, I became an expert at keeping secrets. My parents were active addicts, and I lived in constant fear that someone would find out. I didn’t want anyone to know how messy our house was. I didn’t want them to see the instability, the chaos. So I worked hard to be seen as the opposite: put-together, capable, ambitious.
Jung would call this the persona, the mask we wear to meet the world. But underneath it, my internal world was anything but calm. I often felt unsettled, aimless, reactive. I had a defiant streak, not just occasionally, but consistently. Sometimes I pushed back for no clear reason at all, driven by a deeper agitation I didn’t yet understand (and likely, my undiagnosed and untreated ADHD).
Still, I learned how to succeed. I tried to be good. And when I couldn’t be good, I made damn sure I was strong.
When I told my dad I wanted to study English and be a journalist, he told me I wasn’t inquisitive enough. I don’t think he meant to be unkind, but I never forgot it. I tucked that dream away and convinced myself it didn’t really matter. Later, when I said I wanted to take lifeguarding courses, my mom told me she didn’t think I’d be strong enough. That time, I leaned into my defiance. I was determined to prove her wrong… and to prove myself right. I became a lifeguard. But writing? That faded quietly, buried beneath one ‘right’ choice after another.
The Right Life (That Wasn’t Right for Me)
I chose to study kinesiology. I took on leadership roles in recreation. I married someone safe and emotionally available. We moved towns together, grew in our careers, started planning for a future that involved children and a home… everything I was supposed to want.
But something didn’t sit right.
There wasn’t one defining moment. Just a slow burn of panic that built until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Where am I? How did I get here? Is this what I really want?
The truth is, it never was.
Even when I was a kid, I never dreamed of a white picket fence. I never felt drawn to having children. But everyone around me said I’d grow out of that, and I believed them. I believed them so fully that I told my ex-husband I wanted kids even though, deep down, I didn’t. I thought my mind would change when the time came.
Plot twist: it didn’t.
The Awakening (And What Followed)
My separation was the catalyst, not the result, of that awakening. It was only after I left that life behind that I faced the greatest losses of all: the deaths of both of my parents. That grief cracked me open in a different way. There was no one left to perform for. No one to prove wrong or right. Just me and my stifled voice.
That was when I began to listen to the whisper I’d silenced for so long. The voice that said, You are meant for something bigger.
I’ve always known I would travel. I’ve always known I was meant to help people. But I never felt like the kind of person who could actually do it…
Until now.
In just a few short weeks, I’ll be leaving my full-time, salaried, job and moving across the world to pursue a new chapter. It’s a leap that, just a few years ago, I never would have believed I’d have the courage to take. But I’m finally learning to trust the version of me I’ve kept hidden, the one who always knew there was something more.
Becoming Who You Truly Are
Carl Jung called this journey individuation, the process of becoming whole. It doesn’t mean things are always clear or easy. Some days, even now, I ache for the comfort of my old roles. As unaligned as they were, they were familiar.
But that ache doesn’t mean I made the wrong choice. It just means I’m human.
Finding your authentic self doesn’t mean life magically aligns. It means you finally stop pretending. You start listening to the part of you that’s been whispering all along.
Ayana Flow was born from that voice. From the version of me who doesn’t need to be perfect, just present. The part of me who remembers what it felt like to live in survival mode and wants to offer another way.
If you’re reading this and feel like you’ve been living someone else’s life, take heart. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re waking up.
And your life (the one that’s truly yours) can begin now.
Begin Your Own Awakening
If you’ve been feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of where you’re headed next… The Flow Journal 2.0 is a powerful companion to help you reconnect with yourself.
This 3-month digital workbook blends guided journaling, breathwork, mindfulness, and gentle movement to support holistic growth and grounded transformation. Each week invites you to move through:
Awareness & Identification: uncover the habits and beliefs holding you back
Releasing & Reprogramming: let go of what no longer serves you
Integration & Embodiment: step into the version of yourself that feels aligned and real
Whether you’re in the middle of a major life shift or just craving more clarity and calm, this journal was designed to meet you where you are. And now, it even includes a bonus Yoga Asana Guide to support you in reconnecting with your body as you rewrite your story.
You don’t have to do it perfectly. You just have to begin.
Start your journey today:
Not ready for that commitment? Subscribe to get your free copy of the original Flow Journal:
With lightness and curiosity,
Vanessa
Comments