The Struggle to Show the Ugly Part Is Real

Wanting to be seen whole, and not criticized for it

Last week in class, we watched Finding Joe, the documentary on Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey. I’d seen it before, probably several times, but this time it hit me differently.

There’s this moment that says:

“We grow the most with what stretches us the most. When you follow your bliss, the Universe will open doors where there were only walls”

It resonated. I feel like sharing my writing is stretching me. But apparently… not enough to open doors. Yet 😉

Lately, I’ve been wanting to write something that could come off as a bit critical. When I told my partner, he reminded me that exposing myself like that might attract haters. And he’s right. That thought terrifies me. It’s why I overthink every post, every share.

Part of me wants to listen to him and play it safe. But another part of me wants to say what I actually think, even if it’s messy, even if it’s angry.

Still, the fear creeps in:

• What if I haven’t thought it through enough?
• What if I’m wrong?
• What if I come off as too judgmental, especially for someone who teaches mindfulness?

Because let’s be honest: good girls aren’t angry.

I could soften it. Say it with a “curious tone.” Wrap it in compassion and disclaimers. That would look better, more polished. But then I’m just performing again, playing the part of the nice, mindful woman with her life all figured out.

And I’m done playing that role.

What I really want is to show my whole self, the good and the ugly, without fears.

Because this culture of only showing our shiny sides? It creates illusions. It creates distance. And I’m not here for that anymore.

I’ve been learning a lot about the shadow — the parts we hide from the World. And I’m realizing that authenticity means bringing those parts forward, not hiding them behind a smile.

But here’s another fear:

What if I start sharing my ugly side… and people like it? What if I swing too far the other way, become proud of being harsh or cynical?

I don’t want that either. That’s why I’ve been cautious. But the truth is, caution often keeps me in the “good girl” role, not the authentic one.

What I got from the video is this:

• If I don’t take the leap,
• If I don’t show myself fully,
• If I don’t risk being misunderstood,
• I won’t grow into the person I’m meant to become.

Change is scary.

But I love writing. I love sharing my thoughts. I’ve wanted to do this for years. And even though I once felt doomed never to speak up again, here I am, showing up, receiving support, testing the waters.

Sharing more. The good and the ugly.

Because that’s what I want people to see:

That life isn’t always calm or happy or picture-perfect.

And that’s okay.

Even ChatGPT (hi, Chatty) told me to say what I actually think, not the softened version. To write the things that scare me. Without apology.

So…

Sorry, honey, if this worries you. And sorry, inner good girl, if this feels too raw. But I’m doing it anyway.

I’ll stay curious. I won’t write from pure blame. But I will write with honesty.

Because I’m human. With trauma, emotions, complexity.

I don’t want to become a jerk, but I also don’t want to keep pretending I’ve got it all together.

Okay. Here’s the critical thing (because I need to share it now): I’ve noticed that many popular spiritual teachers awakened through sudden, unexplainable shifts, not through the methods they now teach. But the way it’s presented, unless you look for it, it often sounds like the method caused the awakening… and that’s misleading.

There. I said it. It’s critical. I’ll admit: at first, I wanted to share this to prove something, that they’re wrong and I’m right. That their success wasn’t fully earned. That my frustration is justified.

But I see it now for what it is: That was my fear talking. My fear of being behind. My envy. My longing to matter.

And yes: I can be critical. I judge. I look for flaws. Not because I’m cruel, but because I’m human. And maybe because I’m tired of seeing people on pedestals.

But this piece isn’t about them. It’s about me, and my fear of being seen in full.

Because I don’t just want to be liked anymore. I want to be real. And real means taking risks.

It means showing up without the costume. It means writing what scares me, not the softened version. It means trusting that my voice still matters, even if it shakes.

So here I am. Saying it anyway. Not just the good girl. But the whole me.

Clicking “publish” feels like a risk. But it also feels like truth.

I’ve learned a lot between discovering that trigger and hitting “send” on this piece.

And that, I think, is what opens the doors.

And what I want to remember:

• My confidence won’t come from blaming others.
• It’ll come from knowing my own worth.
• From standing behind my ideas, even the uncomfortable ones.
• From trusting that I have something real to offer, whether people like it or not.

Thanks for reading. 💛

🌱If you feel drawn to explore your own inner world with support, I’m currently offering counselling sessions as a student counsellor. You’re warmly invited to reach out. I’d be honoured to walk alongside you.