the shallow relationship within ourselves

Shallow doesn’t always mean insignificant. Sometimes it means neglected like a half-buried seed that never gets the chance to bloom. When I look back at my own missteps and unresolved problems, they often trace back to one premise..

the shallow relationship I keep with myself.

We tend to think of relationships as something shared between two people. But there is another dimension, the relationship that unfolds in the quiet recesses of our own minds.

It’s the conversation we hold with ourselves when no one’s around to hear.

And ironically, that’s the very conversation we often fail to nurture.

So many of our conflicts with others begin as unresolved tensions within. We become irritated at how someone reacts or speaks, but is it really their words that sting?

Or is it what they awaken inside us

some thoughts we never bothered to examine?

That’s the thing about a shallow self-relationship, it’s so easily shaken.

A stranger’s offhand remark, a friend’s harmless tease, a family member’s criticism — each can unhinge us.

ecause the ground beneath our feet isn’t solid, it’s barely scratched.

It’s tempting to blame external triggers. We say people are

“too loud,”

“too rude,”

or “too insensitive,”

but is it them — or is it us?

Often, it’s our own lack of deeper grounding that leads us to look outward for validation or definition. We post our problems on social media, hoping for likes and sympathy, or we tear others down, labeling them “narcissists” or “toxic,” as though that might somehow cleanse our own insecurities.

We meet people who mirror these tendencies, or we become entangled in communities that feed off ego and drama. It’s not always conscious, but it’s revealing

a shallow relationship with ourselves drives us to do what society expects, and in the process,

we lose sight of who we really are.

When we don’t know ourselves well — when we haven’t taken time to align with our own moral compass — our actions become unsteady. We say things we later regret.

We chase fleeting approval from strangers online, or we succumb to groupthink, parroting opinions we haven’t fully examined. It’s like we’re tiptoeing on a stage, trying on different costumes, never comfortable enough to stand there in our own skin.

We become an “undefined” person, blending into every new context, unsure of which version is real.

There’s still a moral voice inside us, whispering that something feels off. Sometimes it’s just a twinge of guilt when we broadcast private battles on a public platform or when we slander someone to fit in with the crowd.

Other times it’s a quiet sadness, the regret that surfaces after we do something that clashes with who we thought we were.

The tension is born of this shallow self-relationship — a contradiction between what we profess to believe and the actions we take.

We stop performing for others and start living for ourselves. We recognize when we’re just projecting our insecurities onto someone else, or when we’re craving approval that doesn’t serve our growth.

Trace most problems back to their roots, and you’ll find a misalignment between what we do and who we feel we should be.

We regret skipping the chance to stand up for a friend because that moment collides with our core value of loyalty.

We feel guilty for gossiping because it contradicts the kindness we’re trying to cultivate.

The distress isn’t random — it’s a sign our shallow self-relationship is clashing with that deeper moral foundation, or what we usually call it our own moral compass

In the end, the choice is ours.

We can confront that moral compass in all its clarity and let it guide us. Strengthening that relationship with ourselves doesn’t mean becoming invincible, it means embracing who we are, flaws and all, and acting in alignment with that understanding.

Only then can we break free from the restless search for external validation and simply be at ease with our own reflection.