Self-Portrait Work: Giving Space to the Unseen.

Most of us learn, early on in our lives, which version of ourselves is acceptable. It is us when we are calm, reasonable and in control.

This is the image we show to others — and often, the one we allow ourselves to see. However, beneath this image, lives something else. Experiences, emotions and urges that remain unseen.

Anger that feels inadmissible.

Guilt that never quite quiets.

Shame that makes us hide.

Fear, envy, anxiety, desire — the parts of us that don’t fit the image we’ve learned to maintain.

Out of sight, out of mind. Or… is it?

Why did I say this? Did they notice? Why am I feeling like this? I must be more in control.

While they remain unseen, these experiences keep whispering to us, demanding the space we refuse them. Keeping them silent requires effort — until, eventually, the image we so painstakingly try to preserve begins to crack.

Rage. Resignation. Impulsivity. A moment we don’t recognize ourselves in.

These experiences end up driving our behavior and shaping our relationships. And, once they have forcedly taken their stolen space, they retreat back inside. Stronger than before. Harder to manage.

They even trick us into thinking that we are somehow “wrong” — and, even more importantly, they do so unseen.

But see, the problem is not that these parts exist. They are, absolutely, normal. The problem is twofold: first, we never meet them directly; and second, when we do, we try to fix them — as if they are, indeed, “wrong”.

A central part of my work with clients is a reflective process, inspired by the Dorian Gray portrait. In Oscar Wilde’s book, the portrait absorbs everything its subject refuses to accept.

This is neither an artistic task nor something to display. It is a private psychological mirror — a way of giving space to the inner experiences that are usually kept locked away, to grow in the dark.

Unlike the novel, the goal is not to lock this portrait away forever. Nor is it to expose it to others. The work is about choice.

You choose how close you stand to it.
You choose when — and how — you look.
And you choose whether it ever becomes something you share.

What matters is that these experiences are no longer denied or turn into a problem to be fixed. They are given their own space to exist.

When we are no longer locked in an inner battle, we enable something essential: our ability to choose. Instead of erasing what’s difficult, we can move forward by carrying it differently — with more freedom.

When we stop fighting what is inside us, we stop being driven by it. And from that place, we can finally take the wheel and choose our direction.

This is what I am offering you:

A space where you are allowed — perhaps for the first time — to admit what you’ve been afraid to admit.
A space where honesty is paired with compassion.
A space where change comes from self-respect, not self-rejection or self-judgment.

Come as you are.
Leave with the power to choose what comes next.