Mothering as a Mirror: A Call to Embrace Your Shadow

On motherhood, shadow work, and the courage to be whole

A few months ago, I was on a walk with my daughter when she caught a glimpse of her shadow.

“Mama, up,” she said, eyes wide with fear at this new discovery. I could see how real it felt for her — this dark, unfamiliar shape following her every move.

I scooped her up and held her close. As I held her, I told her that I, too, once feared my shadow. Over time, though, I’ve come to see it as a friend.

I gently invited her to wave at her shadow, modeling the gesture by waving to my own. She hesitated at first, clinging to me, unsure. But after a moment, she stretched out her tiny hand and waved. Now, she’s befriended her shadow too.

That small, ordinary moment lingered with me. It was a quiet reminder of Carl Jung’s teaching on the shadow self: the parts of us we’ve abandoned, denied, or buried in an attempt to feel love and belonging.

Our shadow parts of self are made up of the traits, emotions, and desires we intuited were “undesirable,” “bad,” or “too much.” We learned early in life, through interactions with family, culture, and the world around us what parts of us were safe to share and those that were not.

While we may find ways to mask the parts of ourselves that bring up feelings of deep shame, they don’t disappear; they simply move into the dark corners of our psyche, waiting for acknowledgment and love.

Becoming a mother has been one of the most profound mirrors for my own shadow. Though I’ve spent years learning to befriend the disowned parts of myself, it wasn’t until motherhood that I realized how vital it is to allow my shadow to exist. To tend to these tender parts - not only for me, but for my daughter as well.

The moments that trigger me most are often when I see parts of myself in her. And in those moments, she becomes my greatest teacher, inviting me to get curious about the parts of myself I still find difficult to see. These moments are an invitation to lean deeper into love, for they offer a chance to heal the parts of myself that might otherwise pass down wounding through the projections of fears I subconsciously hold.

It takes courage to lean into the invitation to bring our shadow parts into the light, to tend to them, hold them, and love them. Only then can we become whole.

After all, the deeper we meet ourselves both in shadow and in light, the deeper we are able to meet other humans. With greater understanding comes greater compassion. When we soften toward our own complexity, we expand our capacity for love.

How freeing it is to recognize that I can hold my daughter’s tender heart while also holding my own.