Recognizing the shadow self through the beliefs we defend and the people we judge.
Sometimes the people we judge most harshly are the ones holding up a mirror. We label them as hypocrites, self-righteous, or emotionally volatile—when in reality, they’re reflecting something within us we have not made peace with yet.
Shadow work teaches us that the things we condemn in others are often unhealed parts of ourselves: stories we’ve outgrown but still cling to, identities we’ve over-identified with, or values we’ve internalized without ever questioning them. The moment we feel ourselves getting triggered—offended, defensive, wanting to pull away or prove a point—that’s usually the mirror showing us exactly what we need to see.
Whenever I find myself outraged by the hypocrisy in others—and let’s be honest, it happens often—I take it as a cue to pause. Not to excuse the behavior, but to take inventory of the hypocrisy I might still be carrying within myself but perhaps haven’t been ready to confront.
That inner tension brought me back to something I learned from The Five Levels of Attachment by Don Miguel Ruiz Jr.—a framework that helped me understand how easy it is to get wrapped up in our beliefs—especially when we start confusing them with who we are. And once our beliefs become fused with our identity, any disagreement or challenge doesn’t just feel uncomfortable—it feels personal. Threatening. Even offensive.
This is where things get tricky in relationships—especially when people are more committed to defending their beliefs than they are to understanding themselves, let alone each other.
According to Ruiz, there are five levels of attachment we can form with our beliefs. The higher the level of attachment, the more fused our identities become with the belief—to the point that it begins to dictate not just how we see the world, but how we define ourselves within it.
Here’s how it breaks down:
Level 1: The Authentic Self
This is like showing up to a baseball game just to enjoy the vibe. You’re not rooting for any particular team. You’re there for the sunshine, the snacks, and the people-watching. Whether the home team wins or loses doesn’t change how you feel about yourself when you leave the stadium.
Beliefs at this level work the same way. You hold them without letting them hold you. They help you navigate life, but they don’t define your identity or dictate your emotions. You’re not invested in being right—you’re invested in being real. You’re open, curious, and grounded in who you are—with or without the belief needing to be validated.
Level 2: Preference
Now you’ve got a team you like, but you’re chill about it. Maybe you’re rooting for the underdog, or you picked a side because your coworkers are die-hard fans and you just want to connect. Either way, you’re a little more invested—you cheer when they score, maybe even boo a bad call—but if they lose, it’s not going to ruin your day.
At this level, your beliefs are more than a passing idea—they become your preference. You have a preferred way of seeing things, but you’re not invested in everyone agreeing with you to feel secure. You can stay connected even in disagreement because your identity isn’t wrapped up in being right. If anything, your preferences add a little spice to your life and friendships.
Level 3: Identity
This is when you’re not just rooting for your team—now you’re wearing their jersey, repping them like it says something about you. You’ve got favorite players, strong opinions about coaching decisions, and if someone trash talks your team? You feel it. You may even take it personally.
At this level, your beliefs start becoming part of your identity. It’s no longer just what you think—it’s who you are. Disagreement doesn’t just feel uncomfortable; it stings. You may not be fully defensive yet, but you start to explain yourself more, seek validation, or try to convince others to see it your way. There’s an emotional charge underneath it all because your sense of self is now on the line.
Level 4: Internalization
Now your love for the team runs deep. You’re not just repping them—you feel like part of the team. You know the stats, you feel like you know the players intimately well, and you take it extremely personally when someone criticizes the franchise. It’s not just a game anymore. When your team loses, it hits differently—almost like it reflects poorly on you. We can’t have that now, can we?
At this level, your beliefs don’t just influence how you see the world—they shape how you see yourself. You’ve internalized them so deeply that questioning the belief starts to feel like questioning your identity. Your sense of self starts to hinge on being right, maintaining a persona, or proving your loyalty to something you’re too afraid to question. You’re no longer in conversation—you’re defending your framework for feeling safe. Curiosity fades, and disagreement starts to feel threatening and confrontational.
Level 5: Fanaticism
Now it’s more than just loyalty to the team—you are the team. You’re not just sporting all the swag—you’re carrying the weight of every win and every loss like it’s your own. You’re not just cheering—you’re defending. And when someone questions the team, it doesn’t just annoy you—it hits somewhere much deeper.
This is full blown ego-fusion. The belief consumes your identity. You idolize it. Defending it becomes more important than the relationship. You stop listening to understand and start listening to correct. Conversations turn into battles. Relationships start to revolve around who’s right and who’s wrong. Letting go, even a little, feels dangerous—like if you loosen your grip, you’ll lose a part of yourself you don’t know how to live without. Oof!
Understanding these levels of attachment is one thing—seeing how they play out in real time is a whole different ball game.
Where Hypocrisy Lives (and What It Reveals)
Most of us don’t like to think of ourselves as hypocrites. We see it as a moral failure—something reserved for people who preach one thing and practice another. But hypocrisy is rarely that black and white. More often, it shows up in subtle ways: the gap between who we say we are and who we’re still becoming. The tension between our highest values and our most human fears.
And the reason we spot it so easily in other people? Because it’s familiar.
The deeper I go into shadow work, the more I realize that what I judge in others usually reflects something unexamined in me. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong for noticing the behavior—or that I need to tolerate it. It just means that if my reaction is emotionally charged, there’s probably something personal in it. Some part of me that still feels the need to control, explain, or distance myself in order to feel safe.
Hypocrisy, when it really bothers us, isn’t just about someone else’s inconsistency. It’s often a mirror reflecting where our ego is still attached—especially when we’ve fused a belief with our identity and sense of Self. The stronger the emotional charge, the clearer the signal: there’s something here I haven’t fully owned.
Doing the Real Inner Work
Inner work isn’t just about being aware of your triggers—it’s about being honest about what they’re trying to tell you. It’s easy to intellectualize someone else’s flaws or slap a label on their behavior. It’s harder to ask: What is this bringing up in me? What belief or part of my identity feels threatened right now?
Here’s how I personally work through it when I feel that familiar emotional charge:
Name the reaction. Am I feeling judged? Dismissed? Controlled? Misunderstood? These feelings are breadcrumbs.
Trace it back to a belief. What story am I telling myself right now? What belief is being challenged—about myself, others, or the world?
Assess your attachment. Which level am I operating from? Am I still rooted in my authentic self—or have I fused this belief with my worth or identity?
Ask what this moment is asking of me. Is it calling me to set a boundary? To speak up? Or to soften and surrender a layer of control?
Practice self-honesty over self-blame. The goal isn’t to shame yourself for getting triggered. The goal is to be curious about what your trigger is teaching you.
The real flex isn’t staying unbothered—it’s staying awake. It’s recognizing that freedom doesn’t come from being right. It comes from being whole.
But wholeness requires honesty—especially about how we respond to discomfort in ourselves and others. We often confuse silence with rejection, transparency for dismissiveness, and control with righteousness. We project our discomfort onto others, assigning meaning that protects our ego more than it reflects reality itself.
And that’s the trap: we think we’re discerning the truth, when really, we’re protecting our attachments. Our need to be right. Our need to be chosen. Our need to feel in control of how we’re perceived. So we tighten our grip—on the belief, the story, the identity—when what’s really needed is a softening.
Healing doesn’t come from trying to control your environment or fix other people. It comes from honest self-examination, letting go of attachments, and learning to stand in who you are without needing the ego to prop you up.
From Judgment to Integration
The mirror never flatters, but it always tells the truth—if we’re willing to look.
When we find ourselves triggered, offended, or overly invested in someone else’s behavior, it’s rarely just about them. More often, it’s a reflection of the parts of ourselves we haven’t fully integrated. The identities we’ve attached to. The beliefs we’ve spiritualized. The stories we’ve clung to out of fear that letting go would make us less worthy, less loved, or less secure.
But detachment isn’t indifference. It’s clarity. It’s the decision to loosen your grip—not on your values, but on your need to control how others perceive or receive you. It’s the moment you stop performing your identity and start embodying the truth of who you are in its most authentic form.
So the next time you feel the urge to judge, correct, or defend, ask yourself: What part of me is feeling dismissed or invalidated right now? What belief am I confusing with my self-worth? And what would it look like to choose freedom over attachment—connection over control?
Because healing isn’t about them changing.
It’s about you finally realizing you don’t need anyone’s approval, understanding, or permission to be at peace with yourself.
