Self-love: When experience becomes identity
when experience becomes identity
I AM versus I FEEL.
One of the most beautiful—and challenging—aspects of being in relationship, whether with a partner, friend, or colleague, is the way others can serve as mirrors. In their presence, people often catch a glimpse of themselves they hadn’t seen before. Sometimes, it’s a moment of noticing a response, the tone used, or an assumption that had gone unnoticed. Other times, what emerges is subtler and deeper: a filter—a deeply ingrained lens through which the world is interpreted.
These filters aren’t easy to see. They form slowly over time, shaped by early experiences and reinforced with age. Think of them like a pair of tinted glasses. Each moment—whether nurturing or harmful—adds a new lens. At first, the tint may be noticeable, but over years of consistent wear, it becomes indistinguishable from reality.
These filters shape how people perceive the world—and themselves within it. It’s human nature. Everyone does it.
The Voice of Loneliness
For many of my clients, one such filter is loneliness.
Loneliness has been a persistent presence in their internal world for as long as they can remember. It doesn’t scream—it whispers. It weaves itself into thoughts, reactions, and interpretations. It tells stories. And even in moments of strength and self-assurance, many have come to see that strength was often built through isolation—through resilience born of self-reliance and hyper-independence, rather than connection.
Naming the Filter
Through our work together, I have witnessed clients begin to see loneliness as a filter rather than a fixed part of their identity. Having viewed the world through that lens for so long, much of their life has been shaped by identifying with being lonely, rather than simply feeling lonely. That subtle shift is significant. In psychological terms, it marks the difference between an experience that is ego-syntonic (aligned with one’s sense of self) and ego-dystonic (in conflict with it).
Culturally, many have been taught that authenticity means acting in accordance with internal feelings—and that if something feels real, it must be true. But what if the emotion most closely identified with—the colored lens worn since childhood—contributes to ongoing suffering? These filters only become visible when they are no longer seen as identity, but as part of experience.
When Experience Becomes Invisible
The beliefs and emotions that shape a person most powerfully are often those beneath awareness. Unconscious, they become embedded in identity. They go unquestioned. Life gets built around them—through friendships, relationships, and work environments that reinforce them. Rarely do these patterns get challenged.
But every so often, someone or something challenges the story. A person offers a different perspective, or life doesn’t go the way we expect, and it feels like an attack. We push back, defending, devaluing, dismissing, and discrediting. From interpersonal conflict to political polarization, these moments often trigger a deep-seated need to protect our inner narrative by making the other person wrong.
The Gift of Recognition
However, when one of these hidden beliefs becomes visible, and we are willing to allow a flicker of awareness to break through, we create the possibility for something new.
That moment of recognition opens space for inquiry. What is the cost of seeing the world through this filter? Where did it come from? How does it shape my decisions and relationships?
And in my experience with clients, as we ask these questions together, they become more attuned to the sound of loneliness—the way it colors moments of distress, confusion, and pain. They begin to see how it shapes understanding and how it attempts to create meaning. And eventually, a powerful question emerges: What would it feel like to relate to loneliness, rather than from it?
The Work of Love
No matter how much reflection or healing has been done, there are always parts of the inner world that remain unseen.
Bell Hooks, in All About Love, defines love as “the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth.” From this perspective, love is not merely about affirmation—it is about reflection. Self-love invites curiosity toward hidden parts of the self, approached with honesty and care.
This kind of love is often quiet, raw, and disorienting—but it is also where transformation begins.
What’s Next
In the coming weeks, more reflections will follow—on loneliness, unconscious emotional patterns, and the narratives that shape relationships. The hope is that in naming these experiences, others may feel a little less alone in their own.
