Reclaiming the Parts They Conditioned Me to Suppress

As someone that was raised to be a people-pleaser and to have no boundaries whatsoever, and taught that I was to be “nice” no matter the cost—even at the expense of my own truth, energy, and well-being—I was conditioned to suppress anything that could be perceived as unlikable, too intense, or even slightly confrontational. That included my highly observant and discerning nature, my ability to sharply perceive dynamics beneath the surface, and the part of me that instinctively saw through people and environments that weren’t operating in integrity. And whether it was because I grew up walking on eggshells around highly critical figures, or found myself in emotionally volatile environments where I had no room to breathe or even form a clear sense of self, for a long time, I thought those parts of me made me a bad person—or that I needed to silence them entirely in order to be accepted and approved of, even while the world around me had free rein to criticize, control, and impose itself on me. But the truth is, those traits I was taught to suppress weren’t flaws—they were parts of myself that others didn’t want to exist in me, because those qualities disrupted the dynamic where I was expected to stay quiet, agreeable, and easy to manage (while they of course got to take up space with their own judgment, harsh opinions, and criticism). And once I realized that, I began to understand that reclaiming those traits wasn’t a step toward becoming bitter or unkind—it was actually a step toward becoming a whole person, something that I had never truly been allowed to be before.

This means that now, instead of those “darker” aspects of myself that I was conditioned to believe were wrong, inappropriate, or shameful being repressed deep within my shadow—where, to be honest, even while I was operating in my disempowered, people-pleasing, self-sacrificing, Mr. NICE guy self—those traits still found a way to surface, only in distorted and unhealthy ways. And looking back on the time of my life where I was deep in the midst of my own self-abandonment, I’d catch myself silently resenting others, emotionally withdrawing while pretending to be fine, harshly judging myself for not speaking up, being totally inauthentic in order to try and control others’ perceptions of me (whether I was consicously aware or unconsciously adapting myself to seem more palatable), or becoming internally rigid and hypervigilant in environments where I didn’t feel safe (which led to me constantly policing my own emotions, filtering my thoughts, and walking on eggshells to avoid setting anyone off), among other deeply misaligned behaviors. And the truth is, suppressing those traits of discernment, criticism, and judgment of the external world didn’t make those traits disappear—it just buried them under layers of guilt, shame, and self-denial, where they had no outlet but to leak out sideways. But now, I no longer see those qualities as something to be ashamed of or to push away, where I’ve learned to consciously integrate them, to understand their function, and to allow them to serve me in a healthy way—as forms of psychological clarity, emotional intelligence, and spiritual protection.

So now, with where I am at on my path of integration and embracing my own inherent aspects of being highly critical, judgmental, and discerning, when I let my discernment speak instead of suffocating it, I now protect myself from manipulation, from misplaced loyalty, and from entangling myself with people or environments that compromise my integrity or sense of inner peace, where in those moments, choosing to honor what I sense and feel becomes essential. Because when I acknowledge my judgments instead of pretending to be endlessly tolerant or some paragon of moral perfection that never has anything bad, negative, critical, or discerning to say about anyone or anything, I honor my internal sense of integrity, values, and boundaries. And instead of my main focus being on whether I’m being seen as nice, agreeable, and easy to digest, I now prioritize being real, being grounded, and being in alignment with who I am as a conscious and sovereign version of myself. And when I allow myself to say, “this doesn’t feel right for me” when I encounter behaviors, situations, or energies that are off for me, I stay true to who I actually am—instead of performing as some mask of social compliance or emotional convenience—where I now show up for myself with the wholeness, discernment, and honesty I was once taught to hide in order to benefit those who were using their own sense of personal power to dominate, dismiss, and emotionally control or destabilize me (whether or not they were consciously aware of what they were doing or operating from a level of awareness incapable of seeing the harm they were causing).

And while I do recognize that each person has their own journey and timing when it comes to shadow integration and reclaiming disowned parts of themselves (and will even try to guilt, shame, or hide behind their own conditioned niceness, performative virtue, and socially programmed pleasantries to seem superior to those who are no longer willing to sacrifice their own discernment, psychospiritual sovereignty, and inner clarity for social approval), reclaiming all of these traits of discernment and judgment has refined my moral compass, which was distorted from an early age by those who benefitted from my self-erasure. It has also sharpened my ability to assess the character of the people around me and to define what integrity looks and feels like for me, and it has helped me to spot disingenuous behavior that others often overlook or excuse. And it’s not that I’m looking for the worst in people, but after a lifetime of literally subjugating myself and betraying my own gut instincts just to maintain a false sense of peace with people that never had any intention of truly respecting me in the first place—it’s that when it comes to my personal well-being and sense of individuated mental, emotional, and spiritual sovereignty now, I no longer override my intuition, minimize my perceptions, or abandon myself just to make other people more comfortable with who they think I should be, especially if who they want me to be is not the embodiment of my own inner truth, boundaries, and self-ownership while they themselves get to have free rein to judge, attempt to control my narrative, and avoid accountability for their own behavior.

And what’s been most liberating about accepting and honoring those traits of criticism, judgment, and discernment is, is realizing that this inner shift has changed not only how I relate to others, but also what I allow into my life. And while it’s true that the more I’ve reclaimed my boundaries, inner clarity, and sacred standards, the fewer people I find myself truly resonating with, I’ve also found something much more valuable, which is peace in my own presence. A kind of peace that comes from not being at war with myself, from no longer gaslighting my own intuition to appease others, and from no longer living in fear of disappointing people who were never going to love me in my mental, emotional, and spiritual sovereignty anyway. And that whether I’m surrounded by people that respect my sovereignty or standing alone during whatever period of life that may call for solitude or separation, I now know that at the end of the day, I’m aligned with my own integrity—and that’s become more meaningful to me than any superficial approval based on unconditional compliance to groupthink, politeness that’s performative, or my self-erasure which would require me to betray my own well-being.

And while I fully acknowledge that other people are on their own path of reclaiming themselves and their own repressed discernment, intuition, or personal power—just as I am—just living a life of internal discovery and growth at their own pace—or not even consciously reclaiming anything at all, but simply surviving through the lens of their own conditioning, avoidance, or denial—the reality is: we all have the right to live in alignment with our own sovereignty, standards, and sense of psychospiritual direction, even when its expression is obviously lacking in the soulful development department of others, where stagnancy of self-awareness, integrity, and inner growth is evident. But that doesn’t mean we are obligated to stay connected to, engage with, or pour our energy into relationships, environments, or social interactions where authentic basic respect for each other’s sovereignty, continued development, and sacred individuality is absent. Because when people refuse to meet us in that space of mutual respect and emotional maturity, it becomes a silent agreement to continue tolerating dynamics that deplete us, minimize us, or energetically smother us. And I’ve learned that sometimes the most self-respecting thing we can do is to either stop showing up where our energy is being exploited, our clarity is being dismissed, or our boundaries are being eroded—or it’s to give a measured show of force where we reveal just how discerning, analytical, and inwardly fortified we truly are, in order to get those who may be overstepping their bounds, undermining our sovereignty, or attempting to psychospiritually dominate us with their lack of respect for us as fully autonomous human beings. And I’ve learned that sometimes the most self-respecting thing we can do is to either stop showing up where our energy is being exploited, our clarity is being dismissed, or our boundaries are being eroded—or it’s to give a measured show of force where we reveal just how discerning, analytical, and inwardly fortified we truly are, in order to get those who may be overstepping their bounds, undermining our sovereignty, or attempting to psychospiritually dominate us to finally back off.

This is especially true when those individuals are operating from a rigid worldview, limited emotional range, and narrow frame of reality—such as people who take it too far with their religion, political rigidity, inflexible authoritarian worldviews, rigid intellectual frameworks that resist nuance and growth, psychological postures that confuse unconditional obedience with respect, emotional suppression disguised as strength, distorted loyalty dynamics that demand silence in the face of dysfunction, group efforts of coercive conformity that punish individuation, communal abuse disguised as virtue enforcement, or performative optics of unity that actually mask relational domination and weaponized expectations of politeness and self-erasure to keep us from rocking the boat, among many other things.

And so, when it comes to those with a rigid worldview, limited emotional range, and narrow frame of reality, these are most likely people that are not on any kind of personal development journey whatsoever, who—due to their own emotional immaturity or psychological stagnation—think that other people’s sovereignty, humanity, and psychospiritual boundaries should just be trampled over. So, sometimes standing firm in our own critical observation, insight, and discernment—without softening the edges or downplaying our awareness—is the very thing that commands the kind of respect we should have never had to beg for in the first place from our fellow human brethren. And this is not about being aggressive or domineering; it’s about making it unmistakably clear that we are no longer available for one-sided dynamics, manipulative undercurrents, or silent expectations that we self-erase in order to soothe the discomfort of those who want free rein to act without accountability, while we are just expected to sit back and take it. Because when people continuously operate from a place of power games, emotional coercion, psychospiritual underdevelopment, or veiled contempt, the only way to truly reclaim our peace is to reveal our own strength, clarity, and refusal to be psychospiritually subdued. And while that may ruffle feathers or unnerve those who are used to us shrinking back when they are so used to everyone else enabling their unchecked behavior, it’s also the clearest expression of our inner wholeness: where we stop betraying ourselves for the comfort of those who were never going to meet us with genuine respect in the first place.