I grew up with a loving mother who did her best to compensate for the time my father was often away from home. His work was demanding, and he frequently travelled for business during my childhood. When he was home, his exhaustion left him with little energy for my brother and me, and later for my sister as well. There were undoubtedly many challenges my parents faced that I was unaware of as a child. Like many kids, I was somewhat selfish and self-centred, making it difficult to fully understand their struggles.
I remember being quite reliant on my mother. I was a very social child, but I tended to be more introverted in larger settings. Caregivers and my mother have pointed out that I was more inclined to observe other children playing rather than engage with them. I felt more comfortable in one-on-one relationships, forming a close bond with my brother when he arrived.
I remember a day when I was around seven years old and misbehaving. I was likely seeking attention from my mother, and as usual, I chose the path of least resistance to get it. This meant acting out, creating a fuss when it wasn’t warranted, disturbing people, and disrupting activities that weren’t focused on me.
On that particular day, I must have driven my mother to her wits’ end (I can’t recall the chaos I was creating, but it was undoubtedly chaotic). She responded by giving me the silent treatment. I remember throwing a temper tantrum because I wasn’t getting any response from her. I must have cried, screamed, and yelled until I lost my voice and was completely exhausted. But she didn’t give in, and I remember that quite vividly.
Looking back at childhood is fascinating; among countless events, the ones we remember may serve as signposts to follow and investigate further. I believe that this was likely one of the major events that, along with my brother’s birth a few years earlier, marked the beginning of my maturation. It signified my transition from the protection, care, and constant attention of my mother to becoming a young boy who would eventually need to behave like a young man.
The role of a father is crucial, as they serve as role models for young boys and play an integral part in their maturation. We know this because there is ample evidence of the social problems that arise when there isn’t a male figure in the household to raise children.
My father provided a very traditional masculine role model for me to imitate — one that emphasized order and responsibility but often seemed to lack empathy and compassion for others, including myself. I remember a time when I scraped my hand and was told I couldn’t have a band-aid. I’m sure there was a lesson in that moment, likely something along the lines of “suck it up, be strong, be independent, be a man.” While this isn’t necessarily terrible advice, as the world can indeed be a tough place, and one is bound to get bruised and scraped, this memory remains vivid. Adjusting to this approach took time — years, I imagine — especially since it contrasted sharply with the care I received from my mother.
In my childhood, I experienced the universal manifestation of masculine and feminine forces. Myths, philosophy, and modern psychology have all interpreted these persistent masculine and feminine energies.
In ancient Chinese philosophy, the dualistic forces known as Yin and Yang are represented by a well-known circular symbol consisting of two opposing shapes. The black area symbolizes Yin, which is associated with the feminine, while the white area represents Yang, which is linked to the masculine. The dots within each side illustrate the concept of one force existing within the other, highlighting their interconnectedness. Yin and Yang are viewed as complementary forces that are part of a greater whole. Although they are opposite, they create a dynamic cyclical system.
In ancient mythology, masculinity and femininity were often embodied in gods and goddesses. In ancient Greece, Aphrodite represented femininity as the goddess of love, sex, and beauty, while Ares symbolized masculinity as the god of war. Similarly, in ancient Egypt, Osiris, the lord of the underworld, was a masculine figure, and his counterpart, Isis, the goddess of healing and magic, represented femininity.
Carl Jung, the renowned Swiss psychologist and colleague of Sigmund Freud, described the feminine aspect as the anima and the masculine aspect as the animus. He viewed these as archetypes that form a syzygy, or the union of opposing forces. The term “syzygy” comes from the Greek word “syzygia,” meaning “to yoke together” or “the union of two.” Jung characterized the animus as the unconscious masculine aspect present in women and the anima as the unconscious feminine aspect found in men.
I would describe the masculine and feminine, the anima and animus, and the eros and logos as dichotomies that are pervasive throughout the universe. These concepts are observed in nature and experienced in our psyches as energetic forms that create dynamic stability through opposition. Iain McGilchrist, a psychiatrist and author of “The Master and His Emissary,” masterfully illustrates the dichotomy between the right and left brain hemispheres and how it has shaped Western culture. He states, “Without some degree of resistance, without some degree of opposition, nothing comes into being. In a very simple way, motion is made possible because of friction, which is what ultimately brings motion to a standstill.” This may seem like a contradictory statement — but it is true.
The interplay of opposites and the resulting tension between feminine and masculine energy is clearly evident in romantic relationships. According to Jungian psychology, men often tend to repress their feminine energy, known as the anima, which I believe I did while growing up. However, in recent generations, as women attain higher levels of education and compete in previously male-dominated fields, they are increasingly expressing their animus, or masculine energy.
It’s quite common in modern, intimate relationships for couples to encounter conflicts when men repress their feminine energy. This repression can lead to a persona that appears aggressive, heartless, or indifferent. By not integrating their feminine side, men may become overly focused on order and control, which can hinder their ability to connect deeply with their partners. They may be afraid to share their feelings, sometimes managing to connect physically but not emotionally.
Depending on their girlfriend’s or wife’s needs, nervous system, and childhood experiences, this dynamic can result in feelings of anxiousness or avoidance in women. They may not feel seen, heard, or safe in the relationship. Paradoxically, as a self-defence mechanism, women might project a false version of masculine energy (animus) in response.
Suppose there is communication about this contentious dynamic. In that case, the man may, in hopes of pleasing the woman, project a false and forced feminine energy (anima) which will disempower him and ultimately create resentment. The woman is also in a precarious situation since her over-projected and, therefore, not authentic animus will put her in direct competition with her partner, which can be very destructive for relationships. These forced displays of persona are very draining because they have no power; in fact, they are disempowering; as we know, any act or essential lie, played out over time, is a tiring endeavour indeed.
Because both partners are only trying to protect themselves rather than improve themselves, the result is a breakdown in communication and intense frustration over the other’s inability to make the changes required.
During the power struggle stage of a relationship, when a woman who is easily able to express her feminine energy becomes stuck in masculine energy, she will see her partner as either controlling or weak, as a bully or another child to look after. Ironically, the man can also have the same feelings about his partner in this false dichotomy.
Even more perplexing is that many times, these relationships were initiated by both parties seeing traits in the other which attracted them. For example, the woman may have been initially attracted to the strong dominant personality of the man, who was independent and assertive. The machoistic characteristics were what initially intrigued her to pair with him, but shortly after the honeymoon phase of the relationship, that same woman would complain about how her partners inability to be emotional close to her is having her second guess the relationship. Likewise, the man, may have been initially attracted to her feminine expressions, maternal qualities, caring, compassionate, supportive and loving. He might have been less judgemental about her heightened threat detection system, which would be the polar opposite of his thinking, with her being risk-averse and he more willing to take calculated and reasonable risks.
What they both saw in each other, which might have been the first time they laid eyes on each other, or “love at first sight,” as it is romantically described, is something that was being repressed in themselves. The other person may symbolize what you are not expressing in yourself; therefore, that other person becomes an end to a means, which they will both find out soon enough. If you like to think of yourself as a romantic, this might be a hard truth to swallow.
The shadow, as described by Carl Jung, refers to the unconscious repressed parts of ourselves, including our beliefs and history, that are unable to be expressed. He proposed a solution known as “individuation,” which is the process of bringing our unconscious thoughts into awareness and ultimately accepting them as part of ourselves. This process enables us to become well-rounded, whole, and independent, allowing us to function more effectively in our interdependent relationships.
Additionally, Kurt Goldstein, a physician specializing in neuroanatomy and psychiatry in the 20th century, referred to this process as “self-actualization,” defining it as “the ultimate goal of all organisms.” Carl Rogers, an American psychologist and one of the founders of humanistic psychology, believed that self-actualization occurs when an individual achieves their full potential.
Carl Jung warned about the dangers of not integrating the shadow, stating: “By not being aware of having a shadow, you declare a part of your personality to be non-existent. Then it enters the kingdom of the non-existent, which swells up and takes on enormous proportions…If you get rid of qualities you don’t like by denying them, you become more and more unaware of what you are, you declare yourself more and more non-existent, and your devils will grow fatter and fatter.”
Indeed, when someone’s shadow is triggered, they may seem as if they are possessed by their inner demons. If you’ve ever encountered a situation with your partner where you unknowingly triggered their shadow, you know how quickly that situation can escalate from calm to explosive in a split second.
One way men might become aware of, accept, and start expressing their anima is through creative works such as writing, painting, or music. When I write, I feel that I am connecting with my anima. While I was working on my most recent novel, I experienced emotions that I don’t normally allow myself to feel. It was a cathartic experience, and I learned and grew from it.
For women who wish to integrate their animus, engaging in activities that promote letting go and embracing uncertainty can be beneficial. This includes immersing yourself in non-competitive environments, slowing down your pace, and making time for personal reflection. Such activities can enhance your awareness and help uncover what may be hiding in your unconscious mind.
Journaling, meditation, and therapy are valuable tools for increasing self-awareness and nurturing truth and love in your intimate relationships, as well as in all your relationships. Ultimately, this journey is a personal one, supported by guides you may choose along the way. It’s an inward journey that you will only regret if you don’t start.
We are complex beings, unique in our capacity for both good and bad, equipped with a conscience that helps us discern right from wrong. Within us exist many competing forces, two of the most significant being the anima and animus. These elements are essential to our existence.
Therefore, the question is not about who we are but rather who we can become.
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