I grew up walking on eggshells—and got really good at it.

Growing up demanded a persistent caution and wariness. Any wrong move would lead to parental punishment. Say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing—and unfortunately, the wrong thing was often arbitrary and changing.

That early conditioning still echoes today. While I've worked out a lot of the kinks, there’s still a sensitive radar within me that tracks the needs and disapprovals of others.

This is a classic case of transference—taking a childhood pattern once useful for survival and persisting it into adulthood even when it doesn't serve us.

Even with awareness, small cues still trigger old alarms. A late reply? I assume I’ve upset them. A shift in someone’s tone? I brace for rejection.

Often the hypersensitivity is wrong. And even when it is true, the survival instinct that kicks in doesn't match the weight of the reality. If someone dislikes or disapproves of me, it's usually not as consequential as it feels.

So how do we work with this transference?

Banishing it is no good—the exile will only drive it back with a vengeance. Assimilation is the other extreme—letting it take the wheel leads us to reckless driving.

Integration is key. This part developed inside to protect, and while it may be better retired, it can still serve as council.

That part can still serve—notice, warn, prompt repair. It’s earned a seat at the table. But it doesn’t get to be the chair.

Its voice must be heard, but others in the council—other multitudes and selves within, other tempering characteristics like wisdom and experience—must also lead and balance the rest.

So when I face these often irrational anxieties, I consider even external counsel. I think to Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements—to never take things personally and to always do your best. If someone dislikes you, it's usually not about you. And if you've legitimately done something wrong, do your best to fix it. But no more than your best.

Not all parts of us are right and rational. Much like the workplace or government, we often must work with people we may not get along with. Fighting them is exhausting. But allying with them, or at the very least learning to work with them, can help us have harmony in directing ourselves towards the greater good of our life.

Let the greater council be the one to decide how you integrate that voice.

Let that voice speak. Just don’t let it run the show.