Dragons Nest with Gold eggs

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

At the heart of our romantic hopes lies something far deeper than the superficial layers of admiration or fleeting passion. Beneath the surface of infatuation and attraction, what we truly yearn for in a relationship is something far more profound: a longing to be truly seen and deeply known, without having to hide parts of ourselves or put on any pretenses.

This desire for recognition isn’t simply about someone admiring our outward appearance or noticing our successes and accomplishments. It’s about a deeper, more intimate acknowledgment—a recognition of our inner selves, our complexities, our vulnerabilities, and all the quiet spaces in between. It’s the longing to be accepted not just for the parts of ourselves that we’re proud of, but for the parts that we might feel insecure about, ashamed of, or fearful that others might reject.

1. The Desire for Unconditional Acceptance

When we fall in love or build romantic connections, what we often seek is unconditional acceptance. This doesn’t mean blind approval of every action or choice we make, but rather, it’s the idea that we are loved and respected for our full humanity, with all of our flaws, imperfections, and past wounds. We long for someone who doesn’t just love us for our best days but also for our bad ones. The quiet moments when we feel lost, uncertain, or broken.

We all wear masks at times. We adapt ourselves to fit societal expectations, to meet the needs of family or friends, to survive in the professional world. We hide parts of ourselves in the process—whether it’s our pain, our uncertainties, or our raw, unpolished dreams. But in romantic relationships, there’s often a deeper longing to let go of those masks, to be free from the burden of constantly performing or pretending. We hope to find someone who sees us as we truly are and still chooses to love us.

2. The Fear of Being Misunderstood

There’s an underlying fear in all of us—the fear of being misunderstood. It’s one of the most vulnerable experiences we can face as human beings. To express a thought, a feeling, or a need, only to have it misconstrued or invalidated, is one of the quickest ways to feel unseen. We all carry around layers of experiences, memories, and emotions that make up our identities, but often, these are not easily understood by others.

In romance, we crave someone who can hear us, not just listen to our words, but actually understand the unspoken language of our hearts. The things we leave out, the silences between sentences, the hesitations, the subtle shifts in tone—all these convey as much as the words themselves. Being seen in this way is to have someone who can connect with us on an emotional and psychological level, to recognize the nuances of who we are, even the parts we sometimes keep hidden from ourselves.

We don’t want to constantly explain ourselves. We don’t want to justify our feelings or actions to someone who can’t see the full picture. What we long for is a sense of belonging, of being with someone who innately understands our history, our struggles, and our dreams, without needing us to constantly break them down into digestible pieces. This sense of being “seen” is about more than just empathy—it’s about being known at a core, intrinsic level.

3. The Need for Vulnerability and Safety

In order to be seen and known, we must first feel safe enough to expose our most vulnerable selves. Vulnerability is not simply about sharing our deepest secrets or the painful parts of our past. It’s about showing the world—the people we care about—the pieces of ourselves that we feel most hesitant to reveal. These are the parts of us that are unpolished, unrefined, and sometimes messy. Yet, without the ability to express these parts, we can never truly experience intimacy or connection.

For many, there’s a deep fear tied to vulnerability: the fear of rejection. We wonder, if we show someone our real selves—without the filters and without the polish—will they still love us? Will they still stay? The hope in romance is that there is someone who not only accepts our vulnerability but cherishes it. That person sees the rawness, the imperfections, and the scars of our soul and responds not with judgment, but with care. They don’t just accept us as we are; they appreciate the courage it takes to reveal our deepest truths.

This is why emotional safety is so crucial in love. Without it, there’s no space to truly be ourselves. Romantic partners who create a safe environment for their loved ones to be vulnerable can foster an atmosphere of trust and intimacy. This safety doesn’t just come from a place of physical comfort or stability, but from the emotional space to express fears, hopes, and desires without fear of criticism or dismissal.

4. The Journey of Self-Discovery

When we connect with another person romantically, it’s often not just about discovering the other; it’s also about discovering ourselves through the lens of that relationship. We seek someone who can see us in ways we might not see ourselves. A partner can sometimes be a mirror, reflecting aspects of our character, our potential, or our shadow self that we might have never recognized. This is a mutual discovery, where two people not only explore the depths of each other’s soul but also grow individually.

In relationships where both partners are seen and known, the love is not static. It evolves. They help each other confront parts of themselves that they might have kept hidden for years. Through this process, they both become more fully realized versions of themselves. They discover aspects of their personalities, desires, and dreams that might have been dormant or unacknowledged. Romance, in its purest form, becomes a partnership of self-discovery, where both individuals encourage each other to reach their fullest potential.

5. The Illusion of Perfection

It’s important to address the notion of “perfection” in romantic relationships. We often have an image in our minds of what our ideal partner should be like—perfectly aligned with our desires, completely understanding of our needs, and never failing to make us feel special. However, this image can be damaging. No one is perfect, and no romantic relationship is free from flaws or challenges.

True love isn’t about the flawless portrayal of perfection. It’s about embracing the imperfections in ourselves and in our partners. It’s about showing up with all of our messiness and still believing that we are worthy of love and connection. In this sense, the most profound relationships are not the ones where both partners are perfectly “put together,” but the ones where they allow themselves to be imperfectly human, and they still choose to love and be loved.

Being truly seen doesn’t mean being flawless. It means being accepted despite our flaws, mistakes, and vulnerabilities. It’s the acknowledgment that, even though we might not fit society’s ideal of perfection, we are still worthy of love and connection. When we can find a partner who sees us for who we are—without the need for pretense, without fear of rejection—we are offered the most profound kind of intimacy.

6. The Healing Power of Being Known

In the deepest sense, being seen and known by someone is healing. Many of us walk through life carrying wounds—emotional scars, past betrayals, or lost opportunities. These experiences often leave us feeling isolated, as though no one could possibly understand the depth of our pain or our journey. But when we are in a relationship with someone who truly sees us, these wounds are not just acknowledged—they are honored.

A partner who truly knows us offers a form of healing that cannot be found through superficial interaction or casual connection. They don’t minimize our pain or try to fix it; instead, they create a space where we can feel heard, understood, and supported as we work through it. In their eyes, we see not just our pain but our strength—the resilience that has allowed us to continue moving forward, even when the world has seemed unkind.

Conclusion: The Heart of Our Longing

At the core of our romantic hopes is a deep, universal desire: to be seen, known, and accepted for who we truly are, without the need to hide or pretend. It is a longing for a kind of intimacy that transcends physical attraction or fleeting emotions. It is the search for a connection that allows us to be our authentic selves, to be vulnerable without fear, and to love and be loved in return. This desire to be deeply known is what forms the foundation of lasting, meaningful relationships—the kind that heal, transform, and help us grow into the best versions of ourselves. It is a search for the one person who can see the entirety of our soul and still choose us.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

We all yearn for connection, but not just any connection. At the very core of our deepest romantic desires is not the longing for praise or flattery, but the need to be truly understood. We don’t crave being called beautiful, clever, or charming—though these compliments are often given in love and admiration—but rather, we yearn for something far more profound. What we truly seek is a partner who can see us, not in our most polished, curated moments, but in our most raw, vulnerable, and imperfect selves. We want to be recognized for the parts of us that are hidden away—the darkest corners of our minds, the shameful memories, the painful scars—and to feel that, despite all of this, someone still accepts us with warmth, care, and compassion.

1. The Power of True Understanding

Understanding is a powerful force in human connection. It goes far beyond superficial recognition or the things we might outwardly display for the world. To truly be understood means that someone sees the layers beneath the surface, the parts of us we may not always show. It’s the understanding that is rooted in empathy and insight into the quiet struggles, the fears we bury deep within, and the desires we hesitate to voice.

This form of understanding doesn’t come from knowing the details of our lives or our achievements—it comes from knowing us on a deeper, soul-searching level. It’s the ability to recognize the subtleties of our emotions, even when we don’t have the words to express them. When we crave understanding, it’s not just about having someone “get” what we say on the surface; it’s about feeling that they sense the unspoken things—our silent cries for help, our quiet victories, the pieces of us that are fragmented, and the ways we struggle with self-worth.

2. The Burden of Shame and the Fear of Rejection

One of the most powerful forces that shapes our emotional lives is shame. Each of us carries it in some form—whether it’s shame about our past, our body, our choices, or our imperfections. Shame is a silent force that often makes us feel unworthy of love or affection, and it drives us to hide parts of ourselves from others. We are all too aware of the pieces of us that feel less-than or broken, and these parts are often the ones we fear will lead to rejection or disapproval if they’re exposed.

Yet, despite the shame we carry, there is a deep yearning to have someone who can see us in all our complexity—including the parts we’re most ashamed of—and still love and care for us. To be truly understood is to have someone look at us in our rawest, most vulnerable state—our fear of failure, our guilt for past mistakes, our insecurities—and to respond not with judgment or horror, but with compassion and warmth. In these moments of vulnerability, we don’t need our flaws to be fixed or minimized; we simply need to be accepted as we are.

Imagine the freedom that comes when you no longer have to hide the parts of you that have long felt unworthy of love. Imagine a relationship where you can bring your darkest, most vulnerable self into the light, and instead of rejection, you’re met with tenderness. It’s the profound experience of knowing that your flaws are not the things that make you unlovable, but rather, they are part of what makes you uniquely human.

3. The Emotional Sanctuary of Safe Love

For many of us, love is not just about romance—it is about safety. We want a safe space where we can let down our guard, where we can finally breathe without constantly worrying that our flaws or weaknesses will be exposed and met with disdain. Emotional safety is an essential foundation for any relationship. Without it, vulnerability is almost impossible. If we don’t feel safe enough to show our true selves, then we live in a constant state of self-protection, building walls between us and those who could potentially love us in our entirety.

When we long to be understood, we are seeking emotional sanctuary—a space where we are free to be imperfect, where the weight of our past mistakes doesn’t define us, and where our deepest fears and insecurities can be expressed without fear of judgment. In a relationship based on true understanding, there’s a sense of belonging that transcends the external. It’s not just about whether we fit someone’s idea of perfection—it’s about whether we fit into the safe, loving embrace of another person who sees us as we are, with all our strengths and weaknesses, and still chooses to stay.

4. Healing Through Acceptance

There is something deeply healing about being truly accepted for who we are, especially the parts of us we’ve been taught to hide. We live in a world that often conditions us to believe that we must meet certain standards to be worthy of love. We must look a certain way, act a certain way, perform certain tasks or duties, or possess certain qualities to be considered “worthy.” But this external validation often leaves us feeling hollow, as if we are only loved because we meet someone’s expectations, not because of who we are at our core.

When we experience love that is built on true understanding, we are no longer seeking validation from the outside world. Instead, we experience self-acceptance through the eyes of another. This kind of love doesn’t require us to perform or wear a mask—it nourishes our sense of self-worth. It says, “You don’t have to be perfect to be loved. You don’t have to hide your flaws or your fears to be worthy of affection. I see all of you, and I still choose you.”

This kind of unconditional love is transformative. It can heal the wounds of past rejections and provide the kind of emotional support that allows us to rebuild the parts of ourselves that were once broken or hidden. When someone responds to our vulnerabilities with warmth and care, it sends a powerful message to our subconscious: You are enough.

5. The Desire for Depth Beyond Surface Compliments

The desire to be understood goes far beyond the surface-level compliments we often hear. While praise like “You’re beautiful” or “You’re so smart” is nice and can certainly contribute to a sense of feeling appreciated, it doesn’t touch the heart of what we really crave. These compliments, while kind, often feel empty because they don’t speak to our essence—they don’t acknowledge who we are beneath the surface. In fact, they sometimes feel like they ignore the deeper complexities of our being, reducing us to a few superficial traits.

True connection and love come when we feel seen beyond the surface—when someone can see the tiredness behind our smile, the fear behind our laughter, and the hope behind our frustrations. We want someone who recognizes that we are more than our appearance, our intellect, or our charm. We want to be known for the whole of our experience, including our history, our struggles, and our dreams. These are the parts of us that often go unnoticed because they don’t fit the conventional or external standards that society values. But in love, they should be the very things that matter the most.

When we crave understanding, we are seeking to be valued for who we truly are, not for how we appear to the world. We want a partner who can look past the polished exterior and acknowledge the person we are in our rawest form. This form of love is not based on a performance—it’s based on a deep, authentic connection.

6. The Courage to Be Seen

There is immense courage in choosing to be seen. It takes a great deal of bravery to allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to let down the walls and expose the parts of us that are often hidden in shame. We fear that, once revealed, these parts will drive people away, or worse, make them see us as unworthy of love. But when we are met with warmth and care, instead of rejection, our vulnerability becomes a source of strength rather than weakness.

This courage is often born from a desire to find someone who will not only love us but also honor our vulnerability. It is not easy to show our darkest sides—it is, in fact, terrifying. But the hope is that in showing our true selves, we will be met with the kind of love that allows us to grow, heal, and ultimately feel whole.

7. The Lifelong Journey of Being Truly Known

The desire to be understood is not something we seek in a fleeting way—it is often a lifelong journey. It is not just about being seen in the early stages of a relationship, but about being constantly recognized and loved for who we are, even as we grow and change. As people, we are dynamic; we evolve with time, and with that evolution come new fears, desires, and complexities. True love, based on deep understanding, evolves along with us, consistently choosing to recognize the new facets of who we are, without abandoning us when we change.

This is what makes deep, lasting love so profound—it’s not bound by time or circumstance. It’s not contingent on our perfection or our performance. It’s a love that is rooted in a continuous process of being seen, being known, and being loved—regardless of what parts of ourselves we might uncover along the way.

Conclusion: The Heart of Our Longing

Ultimately, the heart of our longing is a deep, unspoken desire for true connection. We want to be seen and loved for all that we are—the light and the dark, the beautiful and the flawed.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

Real romance isn’t about extravagant gestures or curated moments—those idealized, picture-perfect depictions we often see in movies or social media, where love is defined by candlelit dinners, carefully planned surprises, or romantic getaways. While these things can be beautiful and meaningful in their own way, they don’t embody the true essence of what real romance is about. Real romance goes far deeper than the material or surface-level expressions of affection. It’s not about being swept away in a whirlwind of fantasy or living up to an imagined ideal. True romance is in the quiet, raw, and vulnerable moments, when we open ourselves up—when we share our deepest truths, our darkest fears, our most shameful regrets, or our most intimate desires—and the person we care about hears us, truly hears us, and chooses to stay.

1. The Courage to Reveal Our Truths

To understand the depth of real romance, we must first recognize how difficult it is to be truly honest, especially in the context of love. Love and vulnerability go hand in hand, and in order to experience real intimacy, we must have the courage to lay bare parts of ourselves that we often keep hidden. These are not the shiny, polished aspects we feel proud of—the accomplishments, the happy memories, the success stories—but rather the raw, often painful truths that we keep locked away for fear of rejection, judgment, or misunderstanding.

To share these parts of ourselves is not easy. We all carry our own burdens: fears, insecurities, regrets, unhealed wounds, and unspoken desires. These are the aspects of ourselves that are often the most difficult to reveal because they make us feel vulnerable and exposed. We fear that if someone truly knows these parts of us, they will turn away. The true test of love lies not in how we share our triumphs but in how we share our fears, our failures, and the things we feel ashamed of.

Real romance begins when we feel safe enough to open up—when we find someone who will listen without judgment and who doesn’t walk away when we reveal our deepest selves. It’s the moment someone sees our rawness and doesn’t recoil, doesn’t change the way they look at us, doesn’t look for an escape route. They stay. They listen. They hold space for our pain, our uncertainty, and our longing.

2. The Fear of Being Discarded

The reason we hesitate to share our deepest truths is often rooted in fear—fear that if we open ourselves up, the person we love will see us as “too much” or “too broken.” This fear can stem from past experiences where we were judged or rejected for who we really are, rather than the version of ourselves that we carefully curate for others. We worry that our vulnerabilities will be met with indifference, ridicule, or worse, abandonment. The sting of rejection is one of the deepest pains we can experience, especially when it comes from someone we care about.

So when we share our fears, our shame, our desires, we are offering a piece of ourselves that is fragile and easily hurt. The heart of true romance lies not in how beautiful or charming we can make ourselves appear, but in how unconditionally accepted we are when we reveal the things that make us feel small or unworthy. True romance is found in the willingness of another person to stay, to listen, and to respond with compassion when we expose our rawest selves—the parts of us that we fear will drive them away.

In a world that often conditions us to be perfect, or at least to appear perfect, real romance is found in the moments when we stop hiding, when we stop pretending to be someone we’re not, and allow someone to see the real us. The person who hears our truth and stays is the one who truly loves us—not the polished, performed version of us, but the person beneath the surface, the one who is human and flawed.

3. Love is in the Consistency, Not the Grand Gestures

Real romance is not about the big, showy displays of affection that look good on the outside but may lack substance underneath. It’s easy to create an illusion of love with grand gestures—fancy dinners, thoughtful gifts, and carefully staged moments. These things are enjoyable and can be expressions of affection, but they don’t compare to the unseen acts of love that build real emotional intimacy.

In fact, real romance thrives in the everyday, the quiet, unspoken exchanges that reveal our true selves. It’s the moment when you’re feeling anxious or uncertain about something and your partner, without any grand declaration, simply listens—truly listens—to your words. It’s the moment when you’re feeling ashamed of a mistake you’ve made and your partner doesn’t criticize or condemn, but instead offers a soft place to land. It’s the moment when your partner simply holds you, offering comfort not because of anything you’ve done, but simply because they love you for who you are.

True love is built not on fleeting moments of excitement, but on the consistency of showing up for one another—through the good times and the bad. It’s the moments when, in the face of vulnerability, your partner doesn’t just stay for the laughter and the smiles, but stays through the tears, the breakdowns, and the messy parts of life. This is the essence of romance—not in the glitz or glamour, but in the quiet, powerful act of choosing each other, even when things aren’t perfect.

4. The Sanctuary of Emotional Safety

At the heart of real romance is emotional safety—the ability to be completely open, honest, and vulnerable without fear of being judged, dismissed, or abandoned. Emotional safety doesn’t just happen overnight; it is cultivated over time, through mutual trust and respect. It requires both partners to be willing to be vulnerable, to share the parts of themselves that are difficult to expose. It also requires a deep sense of understanding and compassion from the other person.

When we feel emotionally safe, we know that we are accepted unconditionally. We don’t have to hide the parts of ourselves that make us feel insecure or weak. We can say the things that scare us—whether it’s about our past, our fears, our unmet desires—and trust that our partner will hold that truth with care, without trying to change us, fix us, or walk away from us.

Real romance grows from the foundation of this safety—the security that comes from knowing that, no matter what we reveal, we will not be rejected. In fact, our vulnerability is met with support and love. The person who truly loves us doesn’t see our rawness as a threat to the relationship but as an opportunity to connect on a deeper level.

5. The Unspoken Power of Staying

In our culture, there is a tendency to seek excitement and novelty in relationships—the chase, the thrill, the rush. But true romance lies not in these fleeting moments, but in the power of staying. It’s the decision to remain present, even when the excitement fades, even when life becomes complicated, even when we are forced to confront the difficult parts of ourselves.

Staying is the act of commitment—not just to each other’s idealized versions, but to the real versions, the imperfect versions. Real romance is found in the choice to stay, even when we have seen each other’s flaws, when we have seen the darkest parts of each other’s souls and yet choose to love and care for each other anyway. It’s easy to love someone when everything is perfect and rosy. But when the imperfections show, when the vulnerabilities emerge, true love is tested. And real romance is in the quiet resilience of staying, even when things are difficult.

This kind of staying requires patience—patience to listen, to understand, and to be present without rushing to fix or judge. It’s the ability to sit in silence with someone, holding their pain with you, without trying to change it, but just being there with them. Real romance exists in these moments of deep, unwavering presence. It’s the act of choosing not to walk away, but to stay and grow together, no matter how challenging the road ahead may seem.

6. The Freedom of Being Seen and Loved

True romance is the freedom to be ourselves—unapologetically. When we are in a relationship where we feel understood, heard, and accepted, we are given the freedom to be our most authentic selves. We no longer need to hide behind masks or play a role. We can show up exactly as we are—flaws, imperfections, and all—and be loved for who we truly are.

This is the transformative power of real romance. It doesn’t just fill us with a sense of connection, but it also helps us reconnect with our truest selves. When we are accepted by someone else for who we are, it allows us to cultivate a deeper sense of self-acceptance. The love we receive from someone else becomes a mirror, reflecting back to us the worth that we may have lost sight of. It is in these moments of deep emotional intimacy that we feel most alive, most seen, and most loved.

Conclusion: The Heart of Real Romance

In the end, real romance is not about the candles, the roses, or the grand gestures. It’s about the quiet moments when we reveal our deepest selves, our most vulnerable truths, and the person we love listens and stays. It’s about choosing each other every day, not because of perfection, but because of the willingness to accept, to grow, and to love despite all the imperfections. Real romance is not in the fleeting excitement but in the steadfast commitment to be there for one another—no matter what. It’s the power of being truly seen, heard, and loved.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

This kind of connection—the kind that is deep, raw, and truly unconditional—is terrifying for many, especially for those whose pasts have taught them that love is something that must be earned or deserved through certain behaviors or appearances. For these individuals, love was never a constant, steady force. Instead, it was something that came and went like the tide, determined by conditions, expectations, and the often invisible rules set by others. For them, love was a transaction, something that was given or withheld depending on their actions, moods, or ability to conform to what was expected of them. The thought of a love that is freely given, regardless of behavior, imperfections, or mistakes, can feel unnatural—even unsettling.

For many of us, childhood experiences shape the way we see ourselves, the world, and most importantly, how we view love and affection. In environments where love was conditional, where affection was given only when we performed certain tasks or displayed specific traits, we learned to hide parts of ourselves—sometimes entire parts of our being—just to gain the acceptance we so desperately needed. We may have learned that in order to receive love, we needed to be quiet, to be perfect, to be compliant or pleasing. Or worse, we might have learned that love was something that was only available on someone else’s terms—something that came and went depending on their moods, needs, or whims.

In such environments, it was often safer to conceal ourselves—our true feelings, our desires, our fears, and our vulnerabilities—because revealing them could lead to rejection or punishment. It wasn’t that love didn’t exist, but rather, that it was conditional, fragile, and sometimes painfully inconsistent. The need for survival overtook the need for connection, and we learned to play the role that was required of us, burying our authentic selves in the process.

So when we are faced with the possibility of a love that asks us to be seen and accepted as we truly are—without the need for masks, pretenses, or performances—it can be absolutely terrifying. The fear is not just that we will be rejected again—it is the fear that we will be exposed, that our true selves will be seen in all their messiness, their flaws, their brokenness, and their imperfection, and that this time, love will not come, or worse, that love will be withdrawn in the face of our vulnerability.

1. The Fear of Being Unlovable

For many people whose early experiences of love were conditional, the fear of being unlovable can run so deep that it becomes an unconscious, ingrained belief. These individuals may have internalized the idea that they are only worthy of love when they meet certain standards or when they fit a particular mold. They might believe that in order to receive love, they must be good enough—according to someone else’s definition of goodness. The fear of being unacceptable for who they really are, in their entirety, is so overwhelming that it can prevent them from even considering the idea of opening up to others or allowing themselves to be seen.

This fear manifests in many ways. Some might suppress their desires, their emotions, or even their needs because they are terrified that if they express them, they will be seen as too much or not enough. Others might push people away before they get too close, afraid that their vulnerabilities will eventually drive others to leave. The trauma of early experiences can make it incredibly difficult to trust that love can be given freely, without strings attached. The idea of being loved unconditionally feels like a foreign concept, something too good to be true—because unconditional love simply wasn’t something they ever experienced in their formative years.

The more they long for connection, the more they might shy away from it. It’s not that they don’t want love—it’s that the idea of being loved for who they really are feels impossible, or even dangerous. The fear of rejection is not just a fear of someone turning away—it is the deep, existential fear that their authentic self is not enough, that who they truly are is not lovable, and that being seen fully will only result in abandonment.

2. Concealing the Self to Survive

For those raised in environments where love was conditional, the instinct to conceal parts of themselves was often a matter of survival. In childhood, we learn quickly what is expected of us in order to be accepted—whether it’s following the rules, being the “good child,” or hiding our pain and discomfort to avoid punishment or criticism. Concealing our authentic selves, in many ways, becomes a protective mechanism, a way to shield ourselves from the emotional dangers of an unpredictable environment.

This means that, in order to feel safe, we may have repressed parts of ourselves—our emotions, our desires, our true personalities. For instance, if we were taught that emotions were a sign of weakness or that expressing anger was unacceptable, we may have learned to suppress those feelings. If we grew up in an environment that valued perfectionism, we may have hidden our mistakes, fearing that we would be unloved or unloved if we didn’t measure up to the impossible standards. If we were raised in a household where emotional neglect or abuse was common, we may have learned to shut down emotionally and hide our pain, simply to survive.

This kind of self-concealment isn’t something that disappears as we grow older. Instead, it becomes deeply ingrained in our adult selves. We may continue to hide behind the masks we created as children, believing that who we are is not enough unless it fits some kind of mold. The result is often a deep sense of disconnection from ourselves—because we have learned to detach from our authentic selves in order to survive. The real person inside is buried so deep under layers of fear, shame, and self-protection that it can feel impossible to reach.

3. The Terrifying Vulnerability of True Connection

To be in a relationship where we are seen fully—where someone looks past all the masks, past all the defenses, and truly understands us—is both the most beautiful and terrifying thing we can experience. The fear is not just that we will be judged for our flaws and imperfections, but that we will be rejected for them. It’s one thing to reveal a part of ourselves that feels safe—a happy memory, a talent, an accomplishment—but it’s another to share the parts of us that feel shameful, vulnerable, or painful. True connection requires us to expose ourselves in ways that we have never dared before.

This is terrifying because it goes against everything we’ve been taught in childhood. We’ve been conditioned to believe that our flaws are dangerous, that they are something to hide, to be ashamed of, to bury. But in true connection, we are asked to embrace our flaws, to show them, to let someone see the parts of us we’ve hidden away for so long. We are asked to trust that the person on the other side won’t walk away, that they won’t view us as unworthy of love just because we have been broken, just because we have struggled or failed.

For many, this is a form of emotional exposure that is incredibly difficult. It feels like standing completely naked, with no walls or defenses to protect us. The fear of being seen is not just the fear of judgment—it’s the fear of being too much or too little for someone else. It’s the fear that we will finally be exposed as the fraud we believe ourselves to be.

4. The Hope for Unconditional Love

Yet, despite the fear, there is an undeniable, deep longing within us all to be loved unconditionally—to experience a love that is not earned, not conditional on how we look, behave, or perform, but simply because we are who we are. This is the hope that drives us toward intimacy, even though it feels like the most terrifying thing in the world. We long to find someone who will love us without the need for us to prove our worthiness—someone who will see the whole of us, including our pain and imperfections, and still choose to stay.

The idea of unconditional love is so alluring because it offers us something that we may never have had before: acceptance without judgment. It says, “You are enough, just as you are. You don’t have to hide, you don’t have to change. You are loved, even with all of your flaws, your fears, and your scars.” This kind of love is the antidote to the fear and shame we carry from our past experiences, and it has the power to heal the wounds of our early years. It allows us to show up as ourselves, without fear of rejection or condemnation.

But before we can fully embrace this kind of love, we must first overcome the deep-seated fear of being unlovable. We must learn to trust that the love we receive is genuine, that we are worthy of it simply because we exist—not because we meet someone’s expectations or play a particular role. This is a radical shift in how we view ourselves and love, and it can only happen when we are brave enough to allow ourselves to be seen.

5. The Journey Toward Healing

The journey toward healing from a childhood where love was conditional and performance-based is not an easy one. It involves breaking free from old patterns, learning to love ourselves as we are, and ultimately allowing someone else to love us in the same way. This is a process that takes time, courage, and a willingness to be vulnerable, even when it feels like the most frightening thing we can do.

But true healing happens when we begin to realize that love—real, deep, unshakeable love—has nothing to do with perfection. It is not a reward for good behavior, and it does not depend on how well we conform to the expectations of others. Real love simply is. It is a safe place where we can be our full selves, without fear, without shame, and without the need to hide.

It’s terrifying, yes—but it is also the most beautiful thing we can ever experience. And it is worth every moment of the journey to find it.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

In such childhoods, no one had the time, energy, or even the emotional bandwidth to ask, “Who are you, really?” The world around us, particularly the people responsible for our care, were often too caught up in their own struggles, distractions, and survival mechanisms to take a moment to understand the depth of who we truly were. Our sense of self was largely shaped by the expectations, demands, and sometimes the indifference of the adults in our lives. The question of “who we were” was often secondary, or even irrelevant, to the more immediate concerns of survival, behavior, and performance. The prevailing sentiment was that we had to fit in or become a certain version of ourselves—long before we even fully understood what that meant or had the capacity to develop into that person.

We didn’t have the luxury of just being kids, of simply existing in our natural state. Instead, we were pushed, almost from the moment we could understand, to be good, calm, brave, impressive, or whatever else the circumstances required us to be. Our value was determined by how well we could play a role, meet expectations, or serve the emotional or practical needs of those around us. We were expected to be mature beyond our years, to hold it together even when everything around us seemed to be falling apart. We were expected to be steady, reliable, and resilient—qualities that were celebrated, but that also required us to stifle our natural impulses, our vulnerabilities, and our authentic emotions.

We became experts at masking our discomfort, concealing our true feelings, and performing for others, as this was the way we earned acceptance—and perhaps, more critically, survival. But in doing so, we lost something vital: our ability to be fully seen. We learned early on that visibility in its truest form came with a cost. To be fully visible—to show who we really were, without the masks, without the fronts—meant risking rejection. It meant exposing ourselves to the possibility that, once others saw the true, unfiltered version of us, they might not like what they saw. They might turn away. They might abandon us. Being fully seen was synonymous with being vulnerable, and in an environment where vulnerability was equated with weakness or danger, we quickly learned to hide.

This painful lesson was reinforced in countless ways, often in subtle, seemingly inconsequential moments. When we expressed a need, a feeling, or a fear that didn’t fit the desired mold—whether it was sadness, anger, or a simple request for attention—we were quickly taught that these emotions or desires were either inconvenient, unwanted, or even wrong. As children, we couldn’t fully grasp the weight of this, but we began to internalize it. We began to believe that who we truly were—without the masks, without the performative aspects—was not acceptable. So we hid, quieted ourselves, and pushed down anything that could potentially reveal our true, raw, unpolished selves.

The most devastating part of this lesson was the silent message it sent: you are only worthy of love and attention if you perform well enough to meet the unspoken expectations around you. This was not love in its purest form; it was transactional. It was about earning affection or approval through good behavior, and we quickly learned that if we didn’t meet those expectations, we risked the loss of connection, safety, and affection. Our survival depended on being who others wanted us to be—being a version of ourselves that could be controlled, shaped, and used in ways that fulfilled the needs of others.

And so, we became the chameleons—adapting, changing, shifting, and concealing. We became the versions of ourselves that were acceptable, but never the real versions. The question of “Who am I?” was buried beneath layers of self-preservation. We didn’t have the luxury of figuring that out. We didn’t have the freedom to simply be.

1. The Cost of Performance: Living with a Mask

As we navigated these early years, we developed performative personas—masks we wore to be acceptable, to be loved, and to be seen as “good.” We became skilled at pretending that everything was fine, that we didn’t need anything, and that we could handle anything that came our way. Our true selves were carefully tucked away behind this armor, and the more we hid behind it, the harder it became to remember who we actually were underneath.

These masks served us in the short term, allowing us to fit in and maintain the illusion of acceptance. But over time, this constant act of performing took its toll. The more we wore the mask, the more it became a part of us—so much so that we often forgot that there was something more underneath it. We became disconnected from our inner world, from our feelings, and from our authentic desires. We lost touch with the parts of ourselves that couldn’t be neatly packaged or put on display.

Living with a mask also meant living with a deep sense of disconnection. We couldn’t fully connect with others because we didn’t know how to show up as our real selves. We were too busy performing, too busy hiding, too busy trying to be the person everyone else wanted us to be. And the deeper this disconnection grew, the more we feared that if we ever let down the mask, we would be exposed—and what would others think of us then? Would they still love us? Would they still want us? Or would they walk away?

This sense of disconnection wasn’t just from others—it was from ourselves. We started to feel as though we didn’t even know who we were anymore. The authentic self became buried under layers of expectations, roles, and defensive strategies. We no longer knew how to be vulnerable, how to ask for what we needed, or how to show our true selves—because we had spent so many years learning to hide. We were strangers to ourselves, unsure of where the mask ended and where the real person began.

2. The Trauma of Rejection

The fear of rejection in such childhoods wasn’t just a vague worry—it was a trauma. Each time we showed a glimpse of our authentic selves and were met with dismissal, correction, or neglect, it left an emotional scar. Every time we were told that we weren’t enough unless we conformed, unless we were the perfect child, the perfect student, the perfect friend, we learned to distrust our own worth. We internalized the belief that being fully seen meant being rejected, and that rejection—whether explicit or implicit—was something we couldn’t survive. So we learned to protect ourselves by hiding parts of who we were that might lead to rejection.

This trauma was not always conscious. In fact, many of us might not even realize the depth of the wounds until we find ourselves in relationships or situations that require us to be vulnerable. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, driving our behaviors and our choices. Every time we were rejected, ignored, or made to feel invisible, a part of us shrank, closed off, and learned to avoid showing up as our authentic selves. The emotional wounds we sustained over time created a deep-seated belief: if we let others see us completely, we would lose their love or affection.

The more times we faced rejection, the deeper the wound became. We began to operate out of a sense of fear—fear that our real selves were unlovable, unacceptable, or simply too much. These fears became entrenched in our psyche, and they shaped the way we approached relationships, work, friendships, and even self-image as adults. We became accustomed to hiding, even when we were surrounded by people who genuinely loved us. The shadow of those early lessons loomed over our adult interactions.

3. The Fear of Being Too Much

For many, the worst fear of all was that they would simply be too much for others. We internalized the idea that being too emotional, too needy, too loud, too complicated, or even too vulnerable was a burden. We were taught that being fully visible meant being something that others couldn’t handle—something that would push people away. And so, we made it our mission to stay small, contained, and manageable. We learned that needing love, needing attention, or needing emotional support was something we had to minimize if we wanted to avoid being rejected or abandoned.

This belief that we were too much permeated every aspect of our lives. It influenced how we approached friendships, love, and even self-worth. In romantic relationships, it might have caused us to hold back, to hide parts of ourselves, or to settle for less than we deserved, because we feared that if we were truly seen—if we showed up as our full, messy, and vulnerable selves—we would overwhelm our partners, our friends, or our family. The fear that our authenticity might be too much for someone else to bear is often a silent undercurrent in our emotional lives, guiding how we interact with others and how we present ourselves.

4. Healing the Wounds of Conditional Love

The journey toward healing from a childhood marked by conditional love and emotional suppression is incredibly difficult but not impossible. It requires an intentional effort to unmask ourselves, to reconnect with the parts of us that we’ve hidden for so long. It involves learning to trust again—both ourselves and others—and to believe that we are worthy of love exactly as we are.

The process of healing begins with awareness—acknowledging the fear and pain that shaped us, and recognizing how those experiences have affected our sense of self and our relationships. From there, we can begin the difficult work of forgiving ourselves for the parts of us we’ve kept hidden, and accepting that we are worthy of being seen—not just for our good qualities, but for our flaws, our imperfections, and our vulnerabilities. True connection can only come when we allow ourselves to show up fully, to be seen and loved as we truly are.

The road to unconditional love is not easy, but it is the only road that leads to genuine freedom, healing, and connection. And it begins with the courage to be seen—without fear, without apology, and without the need to hide.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

As adults, we carry that early, painful rule—the belief that being fully seen means being rejected—into every aspect of our relationships. It becomes deeply embedded in our psyche, shaping how we interact with the world around us, and more specifically, how we interact with the people we care about. The scars from those childhood lessons often become unconscious guides, directing how we approach connection, affection, and emotional vulnerability. The weight of those formative experiences can result in complex patterns of behavior that feel out of our control but are actually deeply rooted in past wounds.

We may find ourselves hiding behind niceness, crafting a persona that is agreeable, pleasant, and unobjectionable—doing everything we can to make others comfortable while simultaneously avoiding the need to reveal our true selves. This version of us is safe. It keeps us from rocking the boat or exposing the parts of us that feel like they might be unacceptable. Niceness becomes a mask—a way to maintain a sense of connection without having to let anyone too close. It’s the persona that says, “I’ll meet your expectations, I’ll be the person you want me to be, but I won’t show you the depth of who I am.”

1. The Mask of Niceness

Niceness is a powerful, and often insidious, defense mechanism. It can make us come across as approachable, kind, and accommodating—but it also keeps others at arm’s length. By focusing on being “nice,” we avoid any confrontation, discomfort, or potential rejection. We become people-pleasers, always seeking to make others happy or satisfied, but in doing so, we sacrifice the authenticity of our relationships. In a way, niceness becomes a shield—a way to keep ourselves emotionally safe by not revealing too much. But the irony is that, in our quest to avoid rejection, we often end up feeling more alone than ever. While we may maintain surface-level harmony, the depth of real connection is missing.

We might give people what they want from us, but we never offer them who we truly are. The parts of ourselves that are messy, complicated, flawed, or in need of love remain hidden. And because we’re busy being “nice,” we might not even realize that we’re avoiding the very things that create genuine intimacy—vulnerability, honesty, and authentic self-expression.

2. Fleeing from Closeness

Even more paradoxical is the instinct we may have to flee when intimacy starts to take shape. At first, the idea of closeness may feel exciting, even desirable. But as soon as someone starts to see us for who we truly are—when the walls we’ve built begin to crack and someone starts to step inside our emotional space—a deep, overwhelming fear often rises up. We may not even fully understand why, but something inside us recoils. Closeness suddenly feels like a threat rather than a comfort. Vulnerability becomes the thing we fear most.

In these moments, our inner child—the one who learned that being seen meant rejection—begins to take over. We can feel an instinctive desire to pull away, to create distance, to protect ourselves from the potential pain of being too exposed. This might show up in the form of emotional withdrawal, physically distancing ourselves from a partner, or even creating subtle emotional walls that keep the other person just far enough away that they can’t truly see us. We might make excuses, avoid deep conversations, or self-sabotage the connection to keep from getting too close.

On some level, it feels like if we allow someone to see us fully—all of us, not just the version we’ve perfected—then we are giving them the power to hurt us. Our subconscious tells us that the moment someone sees our flaws, our insecurities, or our fears, they will pull away, or worse, they’ll reject us. The fear of abandonment is so strong that it drives us to unconsciously sabotage the very thing we want the most: a close, loving connection.

3. Sabotaging Intimacy

Another manifestation of this deeply ingrained fear is the tendency to sabotage intimacy. Without even realizing it, we may create barriers that prevent us from experiencing true closeness. We might become overly critical, constantly finding flaws in our partners or pushing them away with sharp words or behaviors. These actions act as preemptive strikes against the possibility of rejection. By creating conflict or distancing ourselves before the relationship can become too intimate, we protect ourselves from the emotional vulnerability of being truly seen.

Alternatively, we might push away intimacy in subtler ways—by withdrawing emotionally, avoiding deep conversations, or distracting ourselves with work, hobbies, or other commitments. The more someone tries to get closer to us, the more we backpedal, sometimes without even realizing the pattern we are repeating. Deep down, we might feel unworthy of the closeness, or we might fear that intimacy will expose something in us that is irreparably flawed.

The result is a constant tug-of-war between the desire for closeness and the fear of it. We want to be loved, but we are afraid of the conditions that love might carry with it—judgment, disappointment, and ultimately, rejection. So we push people away, not because we don’t care, but because we believe that the closer they get, the more likely it is that they will discover our flaws and leave. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: we reject connection before it has the chance to reject us.

4. Choosing People Who Never Really See Us

On a deeper level, some of us may find ourselves attracted to people who never truly see us—people who are either emotionally unavailable or who are willing to love us only in superficial, non-threatening ways. The reason for this pattern is often subconscious: we choose people who will validate our belief that being fully seen leads to rejection. We seek out relationships where we can hide behind the mask of niceness, or in situations where emotional intimacy is never truly possible.

In these relationships, we feel safe because there is no risk of exposure. We may even feel some level of relief in knowing that the person we’re with doesn’t ask us to drop our masks. But on some level, we also feel empty, dissatisfied, or misunderstood. These relationships often become stagnant, superficial, and devoid of the deep connection we truly long for. We are caught in a cycle of seeking closeness, only to retreat when it becomes too real, too raw, or too vulnerable. And because we don’t allow ourselves to be seen, we never fully experience the joy, depth, and satisfaction that true emotional intimacy brings.

5. The Fear of Rejection vs. the Desire for Connection

At the heart of all these behaviors lies a deep and fundamental dichotomy: the fear of rejection versus the desire for connection. As children, we learned that love and connection came with conditions. If we revealed too much of ourselves, we risked losing that connection. We learned to suppress our true feelings, our desires, and our needs to ensure we didn’t push others away. But as adults, we find that the longing for authentic connection never goes away. In fact, it often intensifies.

We may try to mask that longing or bury it under layers of distractions, but the truth is, we crave the kind of closeness that comes from being fully seen and loved for who we are—imperfections and all. Yet, the fear of rejection that was instilled in us as children keeps us from fully embracing this desire. We are caught in a paradox: we want connection, but we are terrified of the exposure that comes with it.

6. Healing and Breaking the Pattern

The path to healing lies in breaking free from this old rule. It requires us to redefine what it means to be loved and accepted. We must recognize that true intimacy does not happen through perfection or performance—it happens through vulnerability and authenticity. We have to reclaim our right to be seen, exactly as we are, and to believe that the people who genuinely love us will embrace us fully, flaws and all.

Healing also involves unlearning the belief that rejection is inevitable when we allow ourselves to be truly known. We must challenge the assumption that our imperfections, our fears, or our deepest desires will drive people away. Instead, we need to open ourselves to the possibility that true love and connection come from being fully present, from showing up as we are, and from inviting others to do the same.

Real intimacy, the kind that nourishes our souls, happens when we let go of the fear of being rejected and start living the truth that we are worthy of love—just as we are. It’s a slow, sometimes painful process, but it is the only way to create relationships that are truly fulfilling. Relationships where we can both give and receive love freely, without fear, without masks, and without the need to hide. Only then can we experience the kind of connection we’ve always longed for: one where we are seen, accepted, and loved in all our messy, wonderful, human glory.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

Our sexual lives, deeply intertwined with our emotional landscapes, often carry the same wounds we’ve accumulated throughout our lives—particularly the ones formed in childhood. These wounds, born from early experiences of conditional love, shame, and fear of rejection, can seep into our intimacy in profound ways, shaping how we experience and express our sexuality as adults. Instead of engaging in sexual experiences that are free, honest, and deeply connected, we often find ourselves performing, hiding, or dissociating—unconsciously playing out the same old patterns that protect us from the perceived danger of being fully seen. We carry the belief that who we truly are—the entirety of our being, with all our complexities, vulnerabilities, and flaws—cannot be desired, let alone loved.

1. Performance Over Authenticity

One of the most common ways these childhood wounds show up in our sexual lives is through the act of performance. Just as we may have learned to perform emotional roles in childhood to gain acceptance, we may carry that habit into our sexual relationships. Instead of expressing our genuine desires, pleasures, and vulnerabilities, we role-play the ideal version of what we believe others want us to be. We may mold ourselves into someone more attractive, more confident, more appealing, but not necessarily more authentic.

Sex becomes less about deep connection and more about fulfilling external expectations—whether that means trying to be the perfect lover, meeting certain physical ideals, or enacting fantasies that we think will please our partners. We become so focused on the performance aspect of sex—how we look, how we act, how we measure up—that we lose sight of the real intimacy that lies beneath. We may fear that if we allow ourselves to be truly seen—without the masks, the pretenses, and the perfectionism—we’ll be rejected. Instead of feeling free to explore our bodies and desires with a sense of trust and vulnerability, we feel we must hide certain parts of ourselves, conceal our true needs, and focus instead on trying to meet someone else’s imagined expectations.

In doing so, we disconnect from what could be a deeply fulfilling and authentic sexual experience. Sex becomes about how well we perform, not about how we feel, how we connect, or how we experience pleasure. This pressure to perform can lead to feelings of frustration, inadequacy, and even resentment, as we find ourselves in intimate spaces where we are never truly able to show up as our full, authentic selves. We are left wondering why intimacy feels more like an obligation than a source of pleasure and connection.

2. Hiding Behind Walls

The fear of rejection and unacceptance doesn’t just affect our emotional lives—it affects how we approach our sexual selves, too. We might hide behind emotional walls during sex, unwilling to fully reveal our desires or communicate openly with our partners about what we want or need. These walls are often built from deep-seated beliefs that our bodies, our desires, or our vulnerabilities are somehow unworthy of love or attention.

For some, the fear of being judged for their bodies or their sexual preferences can be crippling. We may avoid certain positions, certain types of touch, or even certain expressions of intimacy because we fear they will expose us—physically or emotionally—in ways that could lead to rejection or disappointment. We might hide parts of ourselves, feeling as though parts of us are too messy, imperfect, or flawed to be desired. We might feel that we’re not attractive enough, good enough, or desirable enough to be truly loved. These feelings are rooted in the core belief that we are only worthy of connection if we perform well, if we appear in a certain way, or if we live up to some external ideal.

This constant self-monitoring during sex can create an emotional distance between us and our partners. Even when we are physically close, we might still be emotionally far away—distracted by our own fears and anxieties about how we are being perceived, how we are measuring up. We might even feel that our partner isn’t really seeing us at all—not the real, unmasked, vulnerable person we are, but only a carefully curated version of ourselves. And so, we hide, retreat, and attempt to protect ourselves from the possibility of rejection, leaving our sexual experiences devoid of deep emotional connection.

3. Dissociation as a Defense Mechanism

For some of us, the wounds we carry may be so deeply ingrained that we don’t just hide behind walls—we dissociate entirely. Dissociation during sex is a coping mechanism that allows us to detach from the emotional and physical sensations of the experience. It’s as if we leave our bodies behind, emotionally and sometimes physically, in order to protect ourselves from the fear of being too exposed, too vulnerable, or too raw.

In dissociation, we check out. We stop feeling present, not only in our own bodies but in the connection with our partner. We may go through the motions, engaging in sexual activity without truly experiencing the joy, the pleasure, or the emotional closeness that it should bring. We become disconnected from our own sexual desires, leaving us in a kind of emotional numbness. We might convince ourselves that sex doesn’t really matter—that it’s just a physical act, not an emotional or spiritual one—and in doing so, we distance ourselves from our true needs and desires.

This dissociation may feel like a form of protection. After all, if we don’t fully engage in the experience, then we can’t be hurt. We can’t be rejected. We can’t be abandoned. But the cost of this self-protection is deep emotional and physical disconnection. We may find that, even in the most intimate moments, we are not truly present, and as a result, we lose out on the possibility of real connection, joy, and pleasure.

4. Believing We Cannot Be Desired or Loved

At the heart of all of these behaviors—performance, hiding, dissociation—lies a deeply ingrained belief that we cannot be desired, let alone loved, for who we truly are. This belief doesn’t just stem from the fear of rejection; it comes from the internalized message that our true selves—our bodies, our desires, our vulnerabilities—are somehow unworthy of love and affection.

Many of us have internalized the idea that love and intimacy are conditional. We’ve been taught that we must be perfect, impressive, or flawless to be truly loved, to be truly wanted. These beliefs can manifest in our sexual lives as well. We may feel that our bodies aren’t attractive enough, that our desires are too “taboo” or “unacceptable,” or that we’re not “good enough” to be loved for who we are. We may carry shame about our physical appearance or our sexual preferences, and in doing so, we create emotional and physical distance between ourselves and our partners.

This belief can deeply affect our self-esteem and self-worth, making it difficult to accept the love and desire that may be offered to us. Even when someone expresses genuine affection, we might second-guess their feelings, wondering if they truly see us, or if they are just settling for the version of us that we present to them—the version that has been carefully constructed to meet external expectations. We doubt whether our authentic selves—the parts we’ve been hiding for so long—are truly lovable.

5. Healing and Embracing Our Sexual Authenticity

The path toward healing in our sexual lives is a journey of reclaiming our worth—not just in the emotional sense, but in the physical and sexual sense as well. It involves letting go of the belief that we have to perform, that we have to hide, or that we have to dissociate in order to be loved or desired. Healing starts with the radical acceptance of our true selves—our bodies, our desires, our vulnerabilities—and learning to trust that we are worthy of love and affection just as we are.

True sexual intimacy begins when we allow ourselves to be seen—when we let down the walls, let go of the masks, and allow ourselves to be fully present with our partners. It means being able to communicate openly about our desires and our needs, without shame or fear. It’s about exploring our bodies and our pleasure without judgment, knowing that there is no right or wrong way to experience sexuality, only our truths and experiences.

This journey is not always easy, and it requires confronting old fears and wounds. But the reward is a deeper, more fulfilling kind of connection—one that is rooted in authenticity, vulnerability, and mutual respect. As we let go of the fear of rejection and embrace the truth of our worth, we create space for the kind of sexual intimacy that is healing, joyful, and, most importantly, liberating. We begin to experience our sexuality not as a performance, but as a beautiful expression of who we truly are—worthy, desired, and loved.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

Healing is not a one-time event or an overnight transformation; it’s a journey—a gradual unfolding, a slow but intentional process that begins when we take the courageous step to name what we fear. Until we acknowledge those deep-seated fears, they continue to shape our lives from the shadows, influencing our relationships, our self-worth, and our ability to experience true intimacy. Naming our fears is the first act of empowerment, the first act of reclaiming our lives from the patterns that have kept us stuck. It is the point where we move from passive suffering to active agency, where we confront the very things that have held us hostage and begin the process of breaking free.

1. The Courage to Name Our Fears

We all have fears—fears that have been built up over time, through painful experiences, abandonment, betrayal, or rejection. These fears are often so deeply embedded within us that we don’t even realize how much they control our actions. We fear being vulnerable, being rejected, being misunderstood. We fear that our truths are too much to bear, too messy, or too painful to share. These fears have been formed over time, often stemming from early life experiences where love and acceptance felt conditional or temporary. As children, we may have learned to hide parts of ourselves to gain love, or we may have been taught that showing up fully would result in punishment, abandonment, or disappointment. But healing begins when we name these fears, when we say out loud: “I fear that if I show my true self, I will be rejected,” or “I fear that if I open my heart completely, I will be hurt.” Only when we name these fears do we begin to understand the hold they have over us, and the invisible chains that have kept us from fully embracing our potential for connection and growth.

Naming our fears allows us to acknowledge the parts of ourselves that we’ve been hiding from—for so long, we’ve been afraid to even look at them, let alone bring them into the light. But when we name them, we take the first step toward healing. It’s the beginning of turning our pain into power. We realize that fear, while natural, doesn’t have to rule us. And we begin to see that facing our fears, not running from them, is the key to true freedom and transformation.

2. Practicing New Ways of Relating

Once we begin to understand and name our fears, we must then practice new ways of relating. This is often the most difficult part of healing because it requires us to move outside our comfort zones and try new approaches to connection and intimacy. For years, we may have built up walls around our hearts, erected barriers to keep ourselves safe from the pain of rejection or hurt. We might have gotten so accustomed to keeping a part of ourselves hidden that being fully open feels terrifying. But healing begins in the small acts of courage, in the tiny steps where we begin to relate to ourselves and others in healthier, more vulnerable ways.

This might look like expressing our true feelings, even when it feels uncomfortable. Instead of keeping our emotions bottled up, we share them—honestly and openly—with those we trust. It could mean asking for what we need in relationships, even if we fear we might be asking for too much. It might mean setting boundaries and standing firm in them, even when we’re scared of upsetting someone. Or, it could involve leaning in during moments of intimacy, even when our instinct is to pull away.

The practice of healing isn’t about perfection; it’s about progress. We might stumble, retreat, or fall back into old patterns, and that’s okay. What matters is that we continue to practice. Every time we show up in a new way, we create a new possibility for ourselves. Healing comes when we stop avoiding the discomfort of vulnerability and choose to face it head-on. It means risking disappointment, rejection, or hurt—but doing it with the belief that, over time, the growth that comes from being open and vulnerable will far outweigh the pain.

3. Seeking Those Who Can Understand Us

As we practice new ways of relating to ourselves and others, it’s vital that we seek out people who can understand us—not just in the surface-level sense, but in the deep, soul-level way that allows us to feel truly seen. The journey of healing is never one we should take alone, and it’s not about trying to do everything ourselves. It’s about finding the right people—those who can meet us with empathy, understanding, and compassion.

We need people who are not only capable of holding space for our vulnerability but who can also see us for who we truly are, beyond the masks we’ve worn for so long. This may include close friends, mentors, therapists, or a supportive partner. These are the people who will listen to our truths without judgment, who will not shy away from our discomfort but will walk alongside us as we face our fears.

When we find people who understand us on a deep level, it becomes easier to practice authenticity. We begin to realize that our true selves—our desires, our fears, our insecurities—are not things to hide, but parts of us that can be shared with others in a safe, loving space. These relationships give us the freedom to show up as we are, knowing we will be accepted, loved, and supported, even when we feel fragile or uncertain.

But seeking out understanding also requires vulnerability on our part. It means taking the risk of being seen, of opening up to others, and sharing our stories—even when we fear we might be rejected or misunderstood. It takes courage to trust others with our truth. However, we will find that, in doing so, we attract those who can meet us in the deepest, most authentic ways. This understanding is a key component in the healing process, as it offers us the validation and reassurance we often need to know that we are worthy of love, even with all of our imperfections.

4. Risking to Be Known

One of the greatest risks in healing is the willingness to be fully known. This is the risk that feels most terrifying because it involves letting go of control and allowing others to see the parts of ourselves we’ve long kept hidden. It means being honest about the messy aspects of our lives, the things we’re ashamed of, the things we’ve tried to bury. We may fear that if we let someone truly see us, they will reject us, or they will see us as weak or unlovable. But the truth is, we can never experience true love or connection unless we are willing to take that risk—the risk of being fully known, fully understood, and truly loved for exactly who we are.

This doesn’t mean that we need to tell everyone our deepest, darkest secrets, but it does mean allowing ourselves to be real with the people who matter most. We risk being vulnerable in our relationships, knowing that the reward—deep, genuine connection—is worth the fear. We might find that, in the process of allowing ourselves to be seen, we are met with not rejection, but acceptance—not criticism, but compassion. The very act of showing up as our authentic selves creates a new possibility for intimacy and connection.

5. Staying, Even When It Feels Unbearable

There will be moments, during this healing journey, when it feels unbearable. The fear of being seen, the fear of rejection, the fear of being misunderstood can feel overwhelming. It’s easy to want to pull back, to retreat, and to avoid the discomfort of facing our deepest wounds. But healing is not about avoiding the discomfort; it’s about staying in the midst of it. It’s about showing up for ourselves even when we feel like giving up.

In these moments, we must remind ourselves that growth and healing don’t happen in the absence of difficulty—they happen because we choose to stay, even when it’s hard. Healing requires a commitment to remain present, even when the temptation to run or hide feels overwhelming. It requires us to stay in relationships that challenge us, that ask us to be more vulnerable than we’ve ever been, and that force us to confront the parts of ourselves we’ve been avoiding for years.

Staying doesn’t mean that we don’t feel the discomfort—it means we endure it, with patience and self-compassion. We stay because we know that the reward for staying is not only the deep satisfaction of being fully connected to ourselves and others but also the freedom that comes from being truly known and loved.

Healing is a process that takes time, patience, and persistence. It’s about showing up, even when it feels unbearable, and trusting that on the other side of discomfort lies a life filled with more authenticity, intimacy, and love than we ever thought possible.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

In its most nourishing and transformative form, love is not simply about shared moments of joy or passionate connection, though those are certainly important. At its deepest, most profound level, love is found in the quiet, sacred spaces where we are completely vulnerable, where we shed our masks and expose the parts of ourselves we’ve kept hidden, sometimes for years. Love, in its purest essence, is the moment when someone sees us—really sees us—not just the polished versions we show to the world, but the raw, unfiltered, and unpolished parts of ourselves that we have so carefully guarded. These are the parts of us that have carried shame, hurt, fear, or insecurity, and for so long, we’ve been taught to hide them, to pretend they don’t exist, or to believe they are unworthy of love and acceptance.

But in this transformative moment of true connection, love shows up not as something that rejects us in the face of our vulnerabilities but as something that embraces us more deeply, more fiercely, and more unconditionally. It is in this moment that we are truly seen—not in spite of our flaws or imperfections, but because of them. It is when someone looks at us—into the very heart of who we are—and doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, but instead, draws nearer. They see the things we’ve kept hidden and instead of recoiling, they reach out with compassion, empathy, and understanding. This is when we realize, deep in our bones, that this is what love was always meant to be.

1. Love is the Courage to Face Our Shadows

At the heart of this kind of love is a profound courage—the courage to face our shadows, our fears, and our insecurities, knowing that someone else will not only see them but will hold them with tenderness and care. It’s one thing to love someone for their strengths, their beauty, their light. It’s another thing entirely to love someone for their flaws, their vulnerabilities, their fears—those parts of them that they often keep hidden for fear of being judged, rejected, or unlovable.

True love isn’t afraid of darkness. It doesn’t demand perfection. It doesn’t expect us to be constantly “on” or “put together.” Rather, it’s the willingness to sit with us in the uncomfortable moments—the moments when we feel broken, fragile, or disconnected. Love doesn’t flinch at these moments; it leans in. This is the kind of love that is so deeply nourishing because it does not ask us to be anything other than authentic. It allows us to show up imperfectly, knowing that our flaws don’t diminish our worth, but rather, make us even more deserving of the kind of love that sees us fully, deeply, and completely.

2. Vulnerability as the Heart of Connection

Vulnerability is often regarded as a weakness in a world that values strength, independence, and perfection. We are taught to hide our vulnerabilities, to “toughen up,” to protect ourselves from the possibility of being hurt or misunderstood. But in truth, vulnerability is the doorway to real intimacy. It is through vulnerability that we allow ourselves to connect on the deepest level, to form relationships that are not based on superficiality or perfection, but on true human experience—the shared understanding of what it means to be flawed, imperfect, and still worthy of love.

When someone accepts us in our vulnerability, they are not just acknowledging the fragility of who we are in that moment, but also celebrating it. They are saying, without words, “I see you. I see all of you, even the parts you don’t show to the world, and I love you for them.” This kind of love is healing, because it allows us to stop hiding and start being. It frees us from the shame that we carry about our imperfections and allows us to breathe into the space of acceptance.

3. Love Is Not About Perfection, But About Presence

In many ways, we’ve been conditioned to believe that love is about seeking perfection—either in ourselves or in others. We chase after a version of love that is filled with flawless appearances, idealized romantic moments, and effortless connection. But the truth is that perfect love isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being present. It’s about showing up for someone, flaws and all, and saying, “I am here, and I am choosing you—just as you are.”

When we are accepted in our vulnerability, we realize that love doesn’t need to be perfect—it just needs to be real. In fact, it is in those moments of imperfection, of uncertainty, that love reveals its deepest power. Authentic love is found in the everyday, in the small acts of care, kindness, and attention. It’s not about the grand gestures or the flawless moments, but about the way someone stays with us, holds us, and understands us, especially when we are at our lowest, our most raw, and our most fragile.

4. A Love That Sees, And Chooses to Stay

At the very core of this nourishing love is the choice to stay, even when it would be easier to walk away. Love that sees us in our vulnerability, our darkness, and our shame, but still chooses to stay—to stay present, to stay connected, to stay committed—is the kind of love that transforms us. It is the love that says, “I see all of you—the parts you are ashamed of, the parts you wish were different—and I still choose you. I still choose to be with you.” It is in this choice to stay that the love deepens and grows. When we realize that someone isn’t running away from our flaws, but instead, running toward them, something within us softens, and we begin to feel safe in being our full selves.

This is the essence of unconditional love: to be accepted, cherished, and valued not in spite of our imperfections, but because of them. It is the realization that our imperfections do not diminish our worth, but make us more human, more relatable, and more worthy of the love that exists in its purest form.

5. A Love That Heals

The love that truly nourishes is healing in its power. When we are seen fully, without judgment, and loved in our most vulnerable state, we experience a deep healing of the wounds we’ve carried for years. These are the wounds that tell us we are unworthy, undeserving, or too broken to be loved. But when someone sees us without flinching, without recoiling, we experience a profound shift. We realize that the things we thought were unlovable about ourselves—our fears, our anxieties, our insecurities—are actually the things that make us human, and that is precisely why we are worthy of love.

This healing power is not just emotional or mental; it is deeply physical too. When we are loved in our vulnerability, it’s as if our whole being relaxes. The tension we carry in our bodies—the knots of fear, shame, and self-doubt—start to loosen. Our hearts open, our bodies soften, and we begin to experience a sense of peace and acceptance that we never thought possible. In this space of unconditional love, we reclaim parts of ourselves that were once hidden, lost, or abandoned, and we experience the profound truth that love is what we were meant to feel all along—whole, complete, and free.

6. Realizing the Truth of Love

As we begin to experience love in its most nourishing form, we come to a profound realization: this is what love was always meant to be. It wasn’t meant to be a source of shame, fear, or rejection. It wasn’t meant to be a prize to be earned or a fleeting feeling to be chased. Love is the force that allows us to feel whole, seen, and accepted—not because we are perfect, but because we are real. This kind of love asks us to show up exactly as we are, with all of our cracks, our wounds, and our mess, and to know that we are worthy of being loved, just like this.

In this moment, when someone sees us fully, without flinching, we understand the truth: Love is not about perfection—it’s about presence, vulnerability, and acceptance. And in this acceptance, we find not only a sense of belonging, but a deeper, more authentic connection to the very essence of who we are. This is the love we were always meant to experience. This is the love that nourishes, heals, and transforms. This is the love that, when we finally experience it, feels like coming home.

[Phoenix]

Listening Schedule

Dragon Reborn RED | Jun 2024 Multistage Stage IVC3
15 mins, Tues and Thur, 7 days break after 21 days

New beginnings demand new energy.
To welcome the new, you must first make space for it. Clear the clutter in your home, your mind, and your heart. Let go of what no longer serves you, and create room for what is meant to come. It’s time to release the weight of the past so that the future can flow freely.

Your future has already begun to knock on the door—are you ready to open it?
The life you’ve been dreaming of is closer than you think, but only if you are prepared to embrace it. Take a moment to reflect: Is your environment aligned with the life you’re stepping into? Are you emotionally and mentally ready for the shifts that are about to unfold?

Clean every space.
Not just your home, your room, or your car, but also your heart and your mind.
Every corner, every thought, every relationship. When you clear the space, you make room for the things that truly matter. Let go of old patterns, limiting beliefs, and anything that no longer reflects your highest self.

The new is coming.
The opportunities, the experiences, the connections—are all on their way. But before they arrive, take a moment to prepare.
Are you in alignment with what you want to receive?
Can you welcome the changes with an open heart, ready to embrace the unknown and the beautiful possibilities ahead?

As you clear the clutter, make sure you’re clearing more than just physical things. Let go of the mental and emotional baggage that holds you back. You’re not just making space in your environment—you’re making space in your soul for something greater.

New things are about to enter your life.
Don’t just wait for them to arrive—prepare for them to stay.
When the door opens, be ready to step through, knowing that everything you’ve done to clear the way is a reflection of the incredible future that’s about to unfold.