
The saying goes: the moment you stop trying to please everyone is the moment your world begins to shift. Carl Jung observed that something extraordinary happens when empaths like me start to see the truth. They do not become selfish. They become dangerous, not to others, but to every system that has profited from their endless giving. This is individuation, Jung’s transformative process, and it is the most threatening thing a sensitive soul can achieve in a world built on self-sacrifice. This is one of the most personal pieces I'll share because Jung has had a significant influence on my life.
Imagine coming home after yet another exhausting day of absorbing everyone else’s emotions, energy, and secrets at the office. Or imagine sensing everyone else’s emotions, energy, and secrets at home for almost ten years, because you've had a bed without a breakfast, hosting guests from all over the world. A machine that never stopped, 24/7.
You said yes when you wanted to say no. You stayed in instead of going out. In the business world, you smiled through a lot of nonsense and acted as if you were less intelligent to keep others comfortable. And you absorbed stress until your nervous system felt like it had been hit by a bus. But then, after twenty years of this, something shifts.
Instead of pushing forward, you pause for a year. You ask the question that changes everything: What if I stopped? When I published my first book years ago, I already showed the world a different side of my story, but for twenty years straight, I acted dumber than I was. Twenty years! To not 'threaten' others. For corporate politics. Etc. Carl Jung called this question the beginning of consciousness. For an empath like me, brave enough to answer honestly, ignorance is no longer an option.
Empathy is often mistaken for a gift, yet Carl Jung observed it is survival sensitivity, a trauma response disguised as compassion. Highly sensitive people like me usually develop what Jung called an inflated sense of self-worth, becoming addicted to being needed because it's the only way they learn self-worth. Now that didn't happen in my private life, but boy did it happen in the corporate world! I gave my soul away to those C-suite execs.
When this bubble bursts, the true self begins to emerge. It hurts me to see how many years I lost, meaning, the arts got pushed away for twenty whole years because the invoices and work for others - usually men - squeezed it away. The true self is a collision with the unconscious, a shocking recognition that my identity has been built on the lie that I'm responsible for everyone else’s brand.
Now, the awakening empath doesn't turn cruel. They become consciously selective, able to recognise manipulation, identify emotional, intellectual, and financial vampires (whatever flavour), and distinguish genuine need from manufactured crisis. Boundaries become sacred. Guilt evaporates. Authenticity takes precedence over approval.
The shadow they discover isn't evil; it's the anger, the denied needs, and the silenced voice that has been ignored for too long. In my case, it's the loss of my writing of myself, not for them. Meeting this shadow transforms sensitivity into conscious power, a superpower of discernment and self-respect.
Physical health mirrors psychological freedom. I laugh because of the irony of that sentence. If you could see me now, you would understand why. Anyway, years of carrying others’ burdens manifest as fatigue, anxiety, and even autoimmune problems. When empaths stop pleasing compulsively, their nervous system relaxes, sleep improves, chronic pain eases, and the body begins to heal. Jung understood that psychological and physical healing are inseparable. The liberation of the empath is holistic, touching mind, body, and relationships.
Relationships change dramatically. Some deepen, some fade. The empath learns to engage by choice rather than by compulsion, forging connections based on respect and authenticity rather than usefulness. For example, there's no room for backstabbing anymore. You betray once, twice, and even more times, you're out. Goodbye. Enjoy your life.
Conscious sensitivity allows empaths to feel deeply without absorbing others' chaos, to love without losing themselves, and to navigate the world with intact boundaries. Carl Jung called this differentiated consciousness, the ability to remain centred while connecting with others.
The empath’s journey isn't comfort but courage. It's a descent into their underworld, a confrontation with the false self built around pleasing others, followed by a rebirth into sovereignty. When a person becomes conscious, they grant permission for others to do the same. The empath awakening demonstrates that self-care isn't selfish. It's necessary, essential, and revolutionary. To give from a full cup isn't indulgence; it is survival, authenticity, and ultimately freedom.
In today’s world, empathy is often cast as an endless resource we must pour into others, even at our own expense. But what if the true power of empathy lies not in giving until we break, but in giving while maintaining our boundaries?
According to research inspired by Carl Jung’s clinical observations, the most 'dangerous' people aren’t those who stop caring. They’re those who learn to care wisely, integrating their emotional experiences, protecting their energy, and choosing how to respond consciously. Jung called this process shadow integration. It transforms drained, overextended empaths into people with profound psychological autonomy.
This isn't coldness or detachment. It’s a radical form of self-care that allows an empath to remain compassionate without being exploited. By embracing their needs, empaths can finally stop being the default emotional support system for everyone else, without sacrificing the very gifts that make them empathetic in the first place.
The transformative journey has four stages: recognition, withdrawal, integration, and autonomy. First, you recognise that giving endlessly is not virtuous but a form of self-sabotage. Then, you withdraw from emotional labour without guilt. Next, you integrate your 'selfish' parts, accepting that prioritising your well-being is necessary. Finally, you exercise autonomy, choosing consciously when and how to engage emotionally.
The result is astonishing: empaths become more loving, not less. They can love without attachment, care without enabling dysfunction, and offer support without losing themselves. Their empathy becomes a model for others, demonstrating that healthy love doesn’t require self-erasure.
This is more than personal growth. In a society structured around emotional extraction and exploitation, empaths who practice conscious, integrated empathy create ripple effects that can transform relationships and communities. They show that sensitivity and strength can coexist, and that boundaries and love are not mutually exclusive.
If you’ve ever felt drained by caring too much for others while your needs were ignored, this perspective offers a radical reframe: your empathy is not a liability. When cultivated consciously, it’s a superpower; one that protects you, empowers others, and models the kind of love the world desperately needs.
The fascinating insights from Jung’s work challenge everything we think we know about productivity and human potential. Society often fears the so-called lazy genius, who seems unmotivated or idle. These people expose the uncomfortable truth that true creativity doesn’t always come from hard work or constant output. Instead, it often arises from deep, unconscious processes, from what Jung calls the collective unconscious.
These individuals, dismissed by others as unproductive, actually operate on a higher level of consciousness. Their so-called laziness isn't a flaw but a method of engaging with the world in a profoundly different way. Through what Jung termed the play instinct, they allow insights and innovative ideas to emerge naturally, often during activities society deems trivial, like daydreaming, walking, or resting. History shows that many of the most significant breakthroughs emerged from these unconventional modes of thinking.
What society fears isn’t laziness itself; it’s the challenge these individuals pose to the very foundations of conventional achievement. They prove that the most valuable contributions often come from processes that cannot be forced, scheduled, or measured. Jung’s research suggests that the world needs these visionaries, not to conform to existing norms, but to act as bridges between the unconscious patterns of human potential and the structured demands of society.
In short, our obsession with constant productivity may blind us to the deeper evolutionary function of creative insight. The lazy genius isn't lazy at all. Those people are attuned to humanity’s collective intelligence, and their work may very well be the key to humanity’s next evolutionary leap. Society shouldn't fear or frame them. We should learn to recognise and protect their rhythms, trusting that their unconventional methods may reshape the world in ways structured effort never could.
We live in a world that is increasingly complex, chaotic, and fast-moving. For me, this reality isn't just a backdrop. It's felt deeply every single day, as if my very nervous system registers what others cannot or will not understand.
Carl Jung identified individuals like me as highly perceptive, endowed with an extraordinary capacity to sense both the inner and collective psychological landscape. Yet with such gifts comes risk. Without conscious integration, perception can become a burden, even a trap.
As noted earlier, Jung outlined a developmental path in four stages. The first is simply becoming aware of oneself and one's perception. The second involves integrating that awareness while staying connected to others. This is what Jung called social individualisation, thus being authentic without withdrawing.
The third stage is service without sacrifice, where one’s abilities are offered as a conscious contribution rather than as a source of martyrdom. Finally, the highest stage is legacy without attachment, contributing to the evolution of collective consciousness beyond the desire for recognition.
But the path is perilous. Carl Jung warned of several pitfalls, including psychological inflation, isolating oneself from society under the guise of wisdom, losing oneself in the urge to help, or being overwhelmed in times of stress. These traps can turn perception from a gift into a source of suffering. Yep, don't ask. The key is conscious engagement, so maintaining boundaries, reflecting on one’s inner experience, connecting with others, and embodying awareness without imposing it.
This isn't merely theoretical. Jung documented cases of individuals whose lives transformed when they consciously integrated their perceptive abilities. What was a burden became a gift, not by diminishing their sensitivity, but by learning to navigate it with wisdom and presence. Today, highly perceptive people are called to similar work. To notice early signs of social, environmental, and cultural stress, to sense collective blind spots, and to guide consciousness toward necessary evolution. Jung's work is so influential in my life because it is a lifetime's job.
The challenge is profound. These people are always psychologically (and in whatever flavour) ahead of their time. They are pioneers of consciousness, often experiencing isolation precisely because the collective is not ready to understand them! Yet Jung’s message is clear. The solution isn't to hide (which I tend to do a lot these days), diminish (which I did for twenty years straight), or suppress perception (which I was never able to do because I don't live with lies). It is to develop conscious capacities that transform insight into service, suffering into evolution, and awareness into a form of cultural medicine.
We are all affected by the work of perceptive individuals. When they integrate, society benefits. When they are lost to isolation or overwhelm, we all lose. When they move abroad, well, good luck, Amsterdam. The loss will be tangible, I promise. The task, then, is mutual: for them, to cultivate conscious integration; for us, to recognise and honour the value of their perception. Jung reminds us that the evolution of consciousness isn't an abstract process but a lived, embodied one, often carried by those who see the invisible first.






