When We’re Missing a Sense of Self

Some people move through life with a quiet, invisible burden: they don’t really know who they are. On the surface, they may appear confident, capable — even magnetic. But underneath lives a gnawing uncertainty. They don’t quite know what they like, what they believe, or what they need. Instead of asking, “What do I want?” or “What is funny to me?”, they’re stuck in: “What am I supposed to want?” or “When is it appropriate to laugh?”.

This loss of self rarely comes from nowhere. It often traces back to childhood — specifically, to caregivers who, though they may not have meant harm, didn’t know how to meet the child with presence and curiosity. The child wasn’t asked, “Who are you — you wonderful, unique little human I’ve helped bring into this world?” Instead, they were subtly or directly shown that there wasn’t space for their preferences, their pace, and their personhood in their caregivers' lives.

The child learns: approval comes from pleasing others. Survival means compliance. And slowly, a heartbreaking conclusion is drawn: I must ignore who I am in order to be loved.

As adults, these same individuals may seem incredibly agreeable, flexible, even effortlessly attuned to the needs and preferences of others. But behind this charm, there’s often a painful disconnection. They are excellent at blending in — but rarely feel like they belong, even to themselves. They might fall in love, commit to careers, adopt opinions — not out of alignment, but out of hope that fitting in might finally quiet the internal chaos.

Eventually, however, this shape-shifting becomes exhausting. The resentment builds, not just toward others, but toward themselves. They might suddenly pull away — from a partner, a job, a friendship — not because those choices were wrong, but because they were never truly theirs. They realise they’ve been living someone else’s life, echoing someone else’s values, smiling through someone else’s dreams.

What follows is often a confusing, painful in-between space. A kind of identity grief. Because without the borrowed frameworks of others, who are they really?

Rediscovering Your Sense of Self
The path back to a sense of self is delicate, often nonlinear. It doesn't come from quick fixes or grand declarations, but through small, consistent invitations to turn inward. Not advice, but space. Not answers, but better questions. Permission to pause, to not know, and to explore without judgement.

At Sense of Self, we believe this kind of rediscovery is sacred. It rarely begins with a dramatic breakthrough. More often, it begins quietly — through soft, embodied practices that help us notice what we’re feeling, what we need, and where we might be holding ourselves tight.

It might look like:

• Gentle journaling that doesn’t demand answers, only honesty.

• Restorative or somatic yoga that allows the body to soften and explore without expectation.

• Breathwork or slow walks, where you reconnect with your natural rhythm.

• Moments of quiet reflection, where there’s nothing to fix or prove — only space to be.

And sometimes, it begins with tiny acts of self-honouring woven into your day:

• When you choose i.e., chamomile tea over green tea, pause and say to yourself:
  “I’m making the choice to have chamomile tea right now.”
  It may seem small or even silly — but acknowledging your choices helps rebuild trust in your inner voice. Because if you don’t trust your own yes, how can you ever feel safe in your no?

• You might begin to check in before saying yes to something — asking not just “Can I do this?” but “Do I want to do this?”

• Or simply start noticing the moments you feel most like yourself — in certain places, around certain people, or even in solitude — and gently make space for more of that.
  You could try this as a short meditation (AKA just a quiet moment to yourself):
  Close your eyes, if it feels safe to do so, and ask: “Where do I feel safe?”
  Let the answers rise without judgement, simply notice:
  – Where are you? I.e., are you in a city, near the sea, in the forest, on a sofa, or high in the mountains?
  – Are you alone, or with someone? Who are they?
  – What are you wearing?
  - What kind of food are you eating?
  - What are you doing?
  Let it be a glimpse — not into who you should be, but who you already are beneath the noise.

Reconnecting with your sense of self isn’t about fixing or forcing anything. It’s about remembering that you’re allowed to get to know yourself — slowly, gently, moment by moment.

Because sometimes, healing doesn’t begin with knowing who we are — but simply with remembering that we’re allowed to find out.

— Emma / Founder of Sense of Self