A note from Jess—

I began my private practice in 2007, but I've been a student of this work since I was seventeen. I had the great fortune of working with a psychotherapist who was also a Master Shadow Coach during those tender, impressionable years. She later became my mentor, and I've been living and breathing this profound work ever since.

At seventeen, I was addicted to Xanax, desperate to numb my emotional pain. I had the self-esteem of a battered turtle and the defensive strategy of appearing completely put together, my hard shell decorated in designer clothes and faux bravado. I'd learned from my narcissistic father how to charm and deflect, cultivating an image of fierce independence while carefully concealing any real vulnerability.

I came from a highly dysfunctional family marked by addiction, abuse, and mental illness. These experiences leave deep imprints. They shape our nervous systems, our personalities, our beliefs about ourselves, and our understanding of love and belonging. And this isn't exclusive to those of us who experienced what might be considered Big T Trauma. No one leaves childhood entirely unscathed. Wounds happen, even in relatively loving families.

But having wounds isn't necessarily the problem. The trouble begins when we don't have the opportunity or support to process our experiences, and instead carry our childhood defenses and survival strategies into adulthood, mistaking them for who we are.

The problem is that we get older, but we don't always grow up.

People often tell me they think shadow work sounds intimidating. There's this idea that your hidden self will suddenly pop out and say, "Boo!" But the truth is, your spookiest self is often the one you can't see, because it's already driving your life from deep underground.

The parts of ourselves we haven't yet learned to recognize or befriend can be extraordinarily powerful. They show up unconsciously in our relationships, perpetuate anxiety and shame, reinforce limiting beliefs, and keep us repeating patterns long after those patterns have stopped serving us. We can spend so much of our lives expressing our undigested wounds and inherited family patterns that we never quite get to know the person beneath the personality.

I used to approach this work — this inner work, this shadow work — very seriously! Perhaps too seriously. I thought, if awareness held the keys to my liberation, then I was going to pursue it with an austerity befitting a monk, with a spirit of true sobriety. I was young and had that cringey mix of certainty and naivety.

Time keeps humbling me! And this being human stuff is an arduous and messy business all on its own. So over time, I learned that bringing light to our shadowy parts isn't just about confronting the things we don't understand or the places where we feel shame. It's also about bringing a light touch and a light heart to the process.

We humans are nothing if not full of multitudes. We can do deep inner work and hold ourselves lightly at the same time. We can sit with our deepest shame with compassion, even humor. We can learn to hold opposites, making room for grief and joy, shadow and light. To make space for the whole of ourselves.

I know firsthand, through my own life and through working with countless clients, that this work can offer profound liberation. I would go so far as to say that doing deep personal work is a form of resistance and an act of peacemaking.

Because peace isn't something that simply happens out there. Peace has to start somewhere. And in the great chain of humankind, we are each responsible for our own links and kinks.

This work untangles us from our habitual stories, unhooks us from our projections onto others, and opens us to a softer affection for ourselves and one another.

I've found that when we make friends with our WHOLE self, the life we want can finally unfurl before us, because it unfolds from within us.