How do we become the ones we no longer recognize?

I look at how we treat one another, and I recognize — not without a certain discomfort — that what bothers me in others, I find in myself too.

And then comes the question that won't leave me alone: how do we end up behaving in ways that contradict who we believe we are?

We polarize quickly. There are those who take up the other person's space too, often without realizing it. And there are those who withdraw, who make room, who would rather disappear, avoid, than occupy. I've been in both categories. You'd probably recognize one of them too, if you looked honestly.

But there is a third way: not to take up someone else's space, yet not to vanish from your own either. To stay in your truth, owned, without turning it into a weapon. Not to bill others through your honesty, but to be grounded in a way that transforms. It's liberating. And it disturbs exactly those people who don't want to look at themselves.

There are wounds we receive from others, and those are easier to talk about, because we can place the blame elsewhere. Lise Bourbeau catalogued the wounds we receive from others: the wounds of humiliation, betrayal, abandonment, rejection, injustice. They are real and recognized.

But there is another wound, one that Linda Howe calls the wound of wounds: self-abandonment. At first I didn't understand why. Then I understood from the inside. This wound — along with the wound of self-betrayal — are wounds we inflict on ourselves, and ones we rarely speak of. Self-betrayal is what happens when you give up your own values and take on the values of a system. Of the family. Of the company. Of society.

Because once you've betrayed yourself, it's easier to keep going than to stop and see that you've been living an illusion. Sometimes the cost of truth seems greater than the cost of the lie. So we choose to continue — not because we don't know, but because it's too painful to see. The suffering would be too great. And so we move on. And we betray ourselves once more. And once again.

I believe this is one of the greatest wounds of our current society. And one of the most silent.

So who is willing to look at this?

I've noticed that we are never just one way. We move through different states and moments — sometimes within the same day.

There are moments when we truly search, in spite of the pain. We want to heal, to understand, to live aligned with who we are. In these moments we don't need to be convinced. We only need a path and a guide who already knows the way.

There are moments when we'd like to change something, but without giving up what keeps us stuck. We anesthetize, a solution meant to soothe the pain, not to transform it. Decided in words. Available only on condition. And when the comfortable solution doesn't work, we conclude that change isn't possible.

There are moments when we try out of curiosity: to see what it's about, how long it takes, whether it's worth it. But without risking too much and without being willing to put in the effort. We test, but without truly committing. We'd like someone else to do it for us — and if something goes wrong, we look for someone to blame.

And there are moments when we don't want to search at all. And here it's game over and that's okay.

Perhaps the question isn't which category you belong to, but where you still choose to abandon or betray yourself.

PS: When I read something, I ask myself where I can apply it right away.

If you work in sales, ask yourself: which moment of this process are my potential clients in right now? Because the answer changes completely how you communicate with them.

In the next episode — the consequence. The Emperor Has No Clothes.