Within each of us, a small, mysterious world rages. A world where two faces collide – the true and the false. It’s a dance of the soul that each of us performs, often unconsciously, as we try to find our place under the sun.
The true self is raw, spontaneous, what we are when no one judges or evaluates us. It’s our essence, our dreams, passions, deepest thoughts, and feelings. It’s the real us, stripped of all the masks we wear. On the other hand, the false self is a costume we put on every morning. It’s our social avatar, a compromise between who we truly are and what the world expects us to be. Some of us become so skilled at wearing this mask that we forget what our true face looks like.
Sociologist George Herbert Mead contributed to the theory of self through the concept of the “social self.” According to Mead, the self is formed through interaction with society, particularly through communication with others. He emphasized that identity is shaped by understanding how others see us, meaning we perceive ourselves as how we believe significant others and society perceive us. We are what we think others think of us, which is why we are so sensitive to the opinions of others. We perceive ourselves through other people, a kind of “mirror” that shapes our self-image.
In a clinical sense, we cannot say that all people suffer from the issue of a false self, especially not in the same way or to the same extent. However, the idea of the social self suggests that our identity is actually a hypothetical entity that does not exist on its own but only through interactions with others, which are internalized. Therefore, the issue of the true self, or true identity, is a matter of universal significance. Whatever my identity may be, it is still only a hypothetical construct, a fiction that exists in the mind. Reality lies somewhere beneath, and the fear of rejection and isolation keeps us on the surface.
But what happens when that thin ice we dance on shatters, when we confront a deep, devouring void of rejection? It’s not just the sadness of lost love or a job. No, it’s much deeper. It’s abandonment depression, where everything exists – anxiety, despair, sorrow, numbness, shame, guilt, isolation, fear of self-fragmentation… Everyone has their own cocktail of these feelings when the ground beneath them crumbles. It’s a state that draws us into the whirlpool of doubting our own worth, where the true self seems so distant and unattainable, like a star in the night sky. We’ve created the false self to avoid all of this. Sometimes, we didn’t even have another option to survive.
But when we find ourselves in that dark corner, where the true and false selves clash in a desperate battle, it seems like every mask we’ve ever worn becomes a burden pulling us down. Our inner light fades, and what we thought we had become crumbles before our eyes. It’s a dance with abandonment, a dance where the steps are heavy, and the music is the silence of our deepest fears.
In this dance, finding a way out means facing our greatest fears – admitting that we may be lost, that we may be alone, but also that we have the strength to find ourselves again. Confronting abandonment depression requires the courage to take off the masks and look at our true selves in the mirror, without fear of judgment, even if it’s self-judgment.
Why is this important? Because acknowledging and confronting our true selves, no matter how painful or frightening, is the first step toward healing. It’s a path to reconnecting with ourselves, to understanding that, even though we may be rejected or hurt, we are still whole. Our value does not lie in how others see us, but in our ability to love and accept ourselves as we are.
Through the mist of the true and false self, through the struggle with abandonment, there is a path. It may not be easy, it may not always be clear, but it’s a path that leads to true freedom. Freedom to be ourselves, without fear, without masks, without apologies. And yes, on that path, we may stumble, fall, but within us is the strength to rise, brush off the dust from our knees, and continue on, with a smile that comes from the depths of our true being, ready for another day, another dance.
So, as long as there are days ahead of us and as long as we can fight our own demons, there is hope. Hope for all of us who dance this complicated dance of life, searching for the true melody that resonates with our unique notes, freeing us from the weight of false masks. Because, in the end, the only thing we truly have, the only thing we can control, is ourselves.
Stefan Mihaljević