#13 Inward and in between: the two directions of growth

For a long time, I thought the work of relationships and the work of self were two different things. There was “my growth” - the journaling, the coaching, the learning - and then there was “our growth” - the conversations, the conflicts, the connection. It took me a while to realise that they are the same work, just happening at different levels of the same system.

The mind is both embodied and relational - it lives in our bodies, but it also lives in the space between us. I love that idea. It means that the space between two people isn’t empty; it’s alive. Every time we connect, argue, repair, or laugh together, we’re shaping not only the relationship but also our own nervous systems. Our brains are literally wired through connection.

And the wiring goes both ways. How I show up in my relationships depends on the state of my inner world. When I’m regulated, self-aware, and grounded, I can listen better, take things less personally, and hold space for someone else’s difference. When I’m tired or caught in my old patterns, the smallest misunderstanding can feel like a threat - and I react through fight or flight, causing a rupture in the connection.

Imago Theory teaches that we are drawn to people who reflect the unfinished business of our past. Relationships become a mirror for the parts of ourselves that still need attention. It’s not punishment; it’s an invitation. Every conflict is really saying: “There’s something in you that’s ready to grow.”

At the same time, the inner work we do changes the relational field too. When I do my own work of integrating the pieces I’ve rejected, when I become a little more whole, a little less defended, I bring something different into the “we.” That’s where the Jungian idea of individuation resonates: the path to wholeness isn’t selfish; it’s sacred. Because when we become more whole, we love better.

Wholeness doesn’t mean having it all together. It means being able to hold our contradictions - to know that we can be strong and soft, certain and unsure, independent and deeply connected. When we live from that place, our relationships become less about winning and more about connecting; less about being right and more about being curious.

So maybe the work of the self and the work of the relationship aren’t two projects at all. Maybe they’re one spiral - we go inward to heal, then outward to connect, and then inward again, each time a little wiser, a little freer, and a little closer to wholeness. All the while changing the relational dance to a place of deeper connection.

In the end, it’s all one dance - the self shaping the relationship, the relationship shaping the self. The line between “me” and “you” turns out to be much softer than we think. And somewhere in that in-between space, when we dare to show up whole, something larger than either of us begins to move. And if we let it, it may birth something even more beautiful than we ever imagined.