🖤 Shadow Work & the Weight of Feeling Invisible

Lately, I’ve been digging deep through layers of emotions I didn’t even realize I had buried. Shadow work has a way of doing that. It gently (and sometimes not so gently) pulls you toward the pieces of yourself you’ve tried to ignore. And one truth I’ve uncovered has been echoing through everything:

For a very long time, I've felt like I don’t matter.

Not just in the obvious moments, but in the quiet ones. In conversations where my words didn’t land. In rooms where I felt small. In relationships where I gave everything and still felt unseen. It’s this heavy ache that whispers, You don’t count. You’re not important. Nothing you do matters.

And especially…In the moments where I’ve opened up—shared a bit of my heart—and the person I’m talking to immediately changes the subject. As if what I said didn’t matter. As if I didn’t matter.

It’s such a subtle thing, but it cuts deep. It teaches me to keep my thoughts quiet, to doubt the importance of what I feel, to bury my voice just a little more each time.

And it hurts.

It shows up in how I speak (or don’t), in how I shrink myself to keep the peace, in how I second-guess my needs or silence my own heart just to be accepted. I’m starting to realize this wound—this belief that I don’t matter—isn’t just emotional. It’s been woven into my choices, my habits, my entire sense of self.

And sometimes… it shows up in how I react when I do try to open up—only to be met with indifference or dismissal. When someone changes the subject right after I’ve shared something vulnerable, I feel this sharp, sinking feeling in my chest—like my words just vanished into thin air.

Lately, I’ve noticed that when that happens, I shut down. I stop listening.

I detach.

I act like I don’t care about anything they have left to say.

It’s my defense. A way to say, If you won’t hear me, I won’t hear you either. But under that armor is still the same wound—still that small voice inside saying, Why wasn’t I worth the space?

I’m learning how to handle myself when I feel this way.

I’m learning how to stay present with my feelings instead of shutting down.

And most of all, I’m learning how to offer myself the validation and kindness I often look for in others.

🌒 Shadow Work Is Hard… But Healing

This part of my shadow is one of the heaviest I’ve held. But seeing it clearly—naming it out loud—is already a form of healing. It’s not comfortable, but it’s necessary. Because the more I sit with it, the more I see that:

✨ My voice does matter.

✨ My presence has weight.

✨ My feelings deserve to be heard—even by me.

🌿 If You’ve Ever Felt This Way…

If you’ve ever felt invisible, unworthy, or like you don’t matter—I want you to know that you’re not alone. Your existence carries meaning, even on the days it feels like it doesn’t. You are not small. You are not too much. You are not “less than.”

You are worthy of love, of softness, of rest, of being heard.

🕯 Let This Be a Beginning

I don’t have it all figured out. But I’m learning to hold myself with more care. I’m learning to listen to the voice inside me that’s been waiting for so long to be chosen.

Not by anyone else—by me.

And maybe, if you’re reading this, you’re learning to do the same.