How Relationships Reveal the Self

We Can’t Change What We Don't Know

First published in my Substack on June 25, 2025 If we want to be in a long-term relationship that thrives, not just survives, we must understand that the 7th House — astrologically speaking — is not about romantic fantasy. It’s about equity. It’s about becoming part of a team where both people matter. A conscious partnership is one where each person is respected, where mutual influence is welcomed, and where both people grow through dialogue, wisdom, and shared responsibility.

But what if you’ve spent a lifetime being the giver? The one who organizes, plans, carries the weight, makes the sacrifices, and keeps the peace — all while quietly extinguishing your own needs? This is where shadow work enters. And it’s not abstract — it lives in the day-to-day dynamics of love.

A client once told me, “I never thought of myself as being in control because I’m so easygoing. But the truth is, if I don’t pull us along, nothing gets done. I’m the one coordinating, deciding, taking care of everything. I didn’t realize that’s a form of control.”

My question to her was, “Do you ask for help?”

Her answer came with a sigh. “I did. For years. But it always felt like shouting into a void. Tasks left half done, money never offered unless asked for, help never freely given. After a while, I stopped asking. I lit myself on fire hoping someone would notice. I don’t want to keep score — I want a partnership. But I’m starting to wonder if this is even worth it anymore.”

What she was describing was a relationship built not on equality, but on imbalance. And underneath that imbalance? Unexpressed anger. The kind that simmers quietly, buried under disappointment and resignation. But the truth is: in every real partnership, both people have to be able to express anger honestly and take a stand when necessary. Without that, power builds up in unhealthy ways. One person ends up dominant, the other submissive — and neither role leads to joy.

In her case, what she hadn’t realized was that her “selflessness” — which mirrored her mother’s — was part of a pattern. A childhood decision. Her mother was a peacemaker, constantly softening life for her hard-working, often-absent father. My client admired her deeply and emulated her model: be kind, be generous, don’t rock the boat.

But in doing so, she obliterated her own right to have needs. Somewhere along the way, she decided that to be loved, she had to disappear. She stopped asking to be nurtured. She stopped expecting reciprocity. And what emerged in her relationship was the exact opposite of what she needed: a partner who appeared selfish, self-focused, and unbothered.

This is how shadow projection works. Whatever we strongly identify with — kindness, understanding, humility — we unconsciously project its opposite. If we are the self-sacrificing one, our unconscious will make sure the Other shows up as self-serving. There’s no room for balance, because one pole is being suppressed and it takes two to see that they BOTH need to meet each other half-way. One person cannot do it alone.

Here’s the paradox: the people we feel the strongest chemistry with — the “spark,” the pull, the obsession — are often those who carry the parts of ourselves we’ve denied. The unconscious recognizes itself in the Other. You didn’t fall for a person. You fell for the split-off half of your own soul. When I asked her if she saw her partner as someone who seeks attention, who wants to be seen, adored, appreciated — she said, “Oh, absolutely. That’s totally him.”

“Guess what?” I said. “That’s your Leo Sun. That’s who you came here to be.”

She looked stunned. “But I’ve never identified with that. I don’t want to be the center of attention.”

Exactly. Because somewhere along the way, she learned it was selfish. But her partner? He’s living it out. Loudly, dramatically, and often annoyingly. He’s become the technicolor picture of her disowned energy. That’s what relationships do. They mirror our unconscious. They force us to face what we’ve buried. And they invite us to take back our projections — not in order to leave the other person, but to become more whole.

The task isn’t to become him. It’s to reclaim yourself.  To see where you begin and he ends consciously. To move toward the very energy that drives you crazy — in a conscious, balanced way. Not all the way to selfishness, but to healthy self-expression. To saying, “No.” To asking for help without guilt. To saying, “This is what I need,” and then walking away to let the other figure it out.

What followed in our session was recognition. The pattern made sense. Her mother’s sacrifice, her father’s authority, the childhood decisions to keep the peace, the adult role of mothering everyone — and now the weariness of it all. Yeah, it gets old.

“You’ve been playing both roles,” I told her. “You’ve been the mother and the father. There’s nothing left but the child — and that’s what your partner has become.” That moment hit home. We recreate the past, hoping to get it right this time. But the only way to shift the pattern is to do the inner work. To look at the early decisions we made between the ages of one and five — decisions about survival, safety, love, and power — and to rewrite them.

This is Saturn’s work. The deep excavation. The inner restructuring. It’s hard, but it’s liberating. And it’s the only path to a relationship that feels equal, alive, and whole.

Carl Jung said, “The experience of the Self is always a defeat for the ego.” Mysterium Conuinctionis, par 778

That’s what this is. It hurts, because we have to admit: I’ve been hurting myself without realizing it. But that defeat gives birth to a new way of being — one where we stop giving the Other our power, and start living in alignment with who we really are.

We’re drawn to people who act out what we’re secretly afraid we’re capable of. They’re not mistakes. They’re mirrors. And if we’re willing to look — truly look — we can reclaim what was lost and become someone who can both give and receive, lead and follow, speak and listen.

That’s the 7th House in its highest form: not fantasy, not dominance, not submission — but dynamic equilibrium. A dance of opposites in motion. Two people, growing — together.

The 7th House: The Soul’s Mirror

If something in this piece has awakened a flicker of recognition — if you’ve glimpsed a part of yourself in the mirror of love, or felt the magnetic pull of someone who carries your unlived and unknown parts — then you are already walking the path of the 7th House. This house is not merely about romantic partnership. It’s a sacred vessel for soul-making. It’s where the unconscious becomes visible through the Other, where your shadows are illuminated, and where — if you’re willing — you can reclaim the lost facets of your being.

In my six-week Online Webinar, we dive into the deep waters of Jung’s Shadow Work and the archetypes (planets) that inhabit or rule your Astrological 7th House. Together, we learn to see these energies not as problems to solve, but as guides leading us home to the Self — the God within, as Jung called the God image.

This is not solitary work. The 7th House teaches us that our healing must be shared. It happens in relationship, in reflection, in the willingness to be seen and to see others. As my teacher, Jungian analyst/Episcopal priest says, “I alone must become myself, but I cannot become myself alone.”

Week 4 of my Online Webinar has been updated with material from my new book, When the Other is You, Whether you’re revisiting the work or continuing your journey, there is always more to discover. The shadow has many layers, and each return reveals something new. Now online for self-paced work.