Persona and Shadow: Destructive to Themselves and Others
"Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. At all counts, it forms an unconscious snag, thwarting our most well-meant intentions." ~ Carl G. Jung
Having examined the different ways in which Self-Preservation 3s present themselves to the world, in this chapter we will analyze the dominant passion of this Enneatype in light of Jung’s theory, specifically exploring the concepts of persona or mask, and shadow.
From a Jungian perspective, the Self-Preservation 3 is inextricably connected with their persona or personality-mask, to the point of blurring the lines between the image they project to be accepted and their perception of their true self. The shadow, on the other hand, is that more instinctual and animalistic part—the archetype which, according to Jung, derives from our pre-human past when our concerns were limited to survival and reproduction, and we were not aware of ourselves as individuals. It also encompasses the “dark side” of the ego, comprising the most negative aspects. In short, it is the part associated with the motor-instinctive center, erotic love, pleasure, lack of control, and simply enjoying life—the part of ourselves we don’t want to acknowledge.
The presentation of the Self-Preservation 3 to the world can be summarized using the following descriptors: someone who appears competent, serious, flawless, dependable, secure, always at the service of others and happy to help, not visibly troubled, a problem-solver with everything under control. These individuals are highly focused on "doing" and on surpassing themselves ("I can"), as titles ("I am worth"), successes ("I am seen"), and achievements ("I am someone") are aimed at constructing a mask that compensates for all unsatisfied needs and deficiencies in their psycho-emotional development. By overemphasizing accomplishment and success, they sacrifice pleasure, leisure, and playfulness. The resulting deep frustration often finds an outlet in covert ways, as described in the following testimony:
“The manipulative and neurotic side of me is so hidden in the shadows that for me it’s always about appearing available, responsible, good at everything, and doing everything well. Simultaneously, there’s the whiny, overwhelmed, stressed, angry, and demanding part that takes over without any restraint when I can no longer uphold the other mask.” (Assumpta)
The Self-Preservation 3 typically presents themselves as someone perpetually busy, energetic, optimistic, full of plans, expectations, and interesting projects, self-sufficient, independent, and satisfied in life. This perpetual busyness is not merely a reflection of their projected reliability but serves to hide their existential insecurities from themselves. In short, stress goes hand in hand with the search for security. It is for this very reason that they sell security, provide advice, offer solutions, impart lessons, excel at various tasks, and help others. Therein lies another characteristic of the conservationist’s presentation: kindness and benevolence, approaching the Robin Hood model—seeking to stand out through their good deeds.
Despite being highly competitive, Self-Preservation 3s can effectively work in a team, where they seek to assume a leadership role within the group or organization and oversee the execution process. However, contrary to what one might think, when others take the lead, they try to ally themselves with them, surrendering leadership in exchange for a greater sense of security.
In spite of that, when they feel threatened, they might attack from behind (even if only through seemingly objective criticism). In such situations, they tend to emotionally withdraw, as they have a hard time accepting rejection and disagreement. But why is their capacity for rejection so limited? Because they must hide from themselves the immense pain that their dependency on others represents, especially when there’s emotional distance involved. And who is an individual who avoids self-connection? Well, to people who aren’t deeply connected either.
It’s quite surprising that a character so focused on unity goes to such great lengths to avoid genuine contact with others and even with themselves—in other words, self-sabotage. True unity lies in mutual listening and connecting on an emotional level. Why does this character steer clear of such authentic listening and deep emotional connection? Because they need to shield themselves from the fear of truly being (of expressing themselves, of revealing their true nature). Any genuine contact with others would inevitably lead them to confront the truth. As Nilda puts it, for instance:
“The most distressing part, for me, was not knowing whether the joy or sadness I experienced in certain moments was genuine or simply a result of me matching my feelings with the situation at hand.”
The great difficulty in surrendering in relationships and trusting life without having to constantly prove one’s worth, as well as the underlying machinations behind it, become evident in the following story:
“The shadow acts as a mask to conceal everything I hide from myself, and mainly from those around me. I exhibit strength where I lack it, convey confidence where I don’t truly possess it, project tenacity when I’m mired in insecurity, show kindness when I’ve already plotted to take advantage of the situation, feign knowledge where I don’t have it, pretend to be a good girl when deep down, I’m anything but. I present myself as different, independent, claiming not to need anyone, yet underneath, I feel dependent on everything. I put on a modern facade when, in reality, I may be stuck in the past, and vice versa. It’s a tremendous self-deception.” (Sandra)
The most efficient and brightest aspects actually end up morphing into the most negative and darkest ones, which can be destructive because, instead of strengthening the necessary affectional bonds, the individual discards them.
Precisely one of the most defining characteristics of this subtype—being perceived as a good and harmless person—serves as the foundation for manipulation, a trait that in most conservationists remains hidden and isn’t visible. This monstrous side emerges when there’s a goal at stake, and the need to achieve it. The way to get there is to employ any means necessary, even if it requires bending morality to fit one’s desires. The ends justify the means, but the means themselves stay concealed to preserve the image of a good person. A good example of this can be found in the novel Dangerous Liaisons (and the movie of the same name), where the character of Marquise de Merteuil resorts to extreme measures to get the man she wants, conspiring to keep her rivals away, and manipulating her target so that he loses his self-esteem and becomes entirely dependent on her. When her objectives aren’t met, her malevolent side emerges, and she takes cold revenge to compensate for her frustration and failure.
Another notable aspect of this subtype is the constant need to appear sure of themselves, and this is the great torment of the preservationists. They cannot waver in the face of obstacles; they cannot be lacking and exhibit any doubt. Here is hidden the fear of invalidation, contempt, and disgrace—in short, of rejection.
It’s worth noting that the Self-Preservation 3 has a greater difficulty facing conflicts than the other subtypes. Why? Conflict and confrontation bring about chaos, rejection, insecurity, and the threat of abandonment or estrangement. It is precisely because of this aversion to handling conflicts directly that they specialize in diplomacy and mediation. Of course, the price to pay is often the renunciation of honesty, truth, and connection with their own needs and desires.
For all these reasons, preservationists seldom show weakness, secretly desiring that others discover they need help. What’s more, even then they may turn it down with a polite “No, thank you; I’m fine.” In short, once again, beneath their autonomy lies the menace of survival—a menace that destroys their relationships.
Another form this fear takes is a considerable difficulty in recognizing and openly expressing their needs, as well as openly asking for help. Revealing their vulnerability triggers fears of abandonment and rejection: “If they see that I can’t do it on my own, they will leave me.” This aspect leads us to the specific inhumanity of Self-Preservation 3—a trait that lies in the renunciation of their own feelings to avoid being abandoned or rejected and, by extension, the feelings of others:
“I conceal my needs, my fragility. Thus, it’s not really a relationship, but rather a transaction, since I’m just letting myself be ‘used.’ And it becomes a bargaining chip when I want to assert my needs. The troubling thing about this is that the other person is always in debt, and I feel alone. I also have a tendency to give moral lessons, assuming that I know the other person better than they know themselves, sometimes treating them as an object—if they are useful to me, that’s fine, and if not, I exchange them for someone else.” (Maribel)
It’s no wonder that they fear discovering they’re not as good or generous as they seem. This fear drives them to tirelessly maintain the mask—the illusion that they’re capable of anything. It’s evident how optimism conceals despair, busyness hides the anguish stemming from a sense of emptiness, and the pursuit of confluence masks the fear that the psychological construct, built on unstable foundations, might crumble.
Another point of interest is the absence of authentic spirituality and true faith in God or the Universe. On one hand, this makes the preservationist anxious and fearful of everything, since there’s no sense of belonging to something greater that could bring peace and solace. On the other hand, true spirituality remains elusive because it’s overshadowed by achievements and image, like a carrot on a stick—promising self-improvement, greater acceptance, and happiness without confronting their inner darkness. They might present themselves as spiritually advanced because it implies recognition, but in reality, they use it as a means of escaping their lack of self-connection and as a way to mask their fear of the world, life, and truly living.
Since the future cannot be predicted or influenced, they fear it. This leads to a life lived cautiously, trying to eliminate uncertainty in every conceivable material way, as they don’t trust in God or life itself.
One of the most destructive aspects of Self-Preservation 3 is the way they vent deep-seated frustration from not feeling like themselves—intuitively aware that they are far from the path of self-realization and fulfillment. This frustration, born from profound disconnection, manifests as demands and anger directed toward those around them. The rage, which must be contained to maintain the mask of competence and goodness, bursts forth in the form of criticism, demands, protests, grievances, and even despotism. This is exemplified in the following case:
"I leave the shadow indoors, at home, with my family and friends. If outside everyone says they always see me smiling, at home, there are mood swings, fatigue, occasional hysteria, shouting, complaints, and reproaches. I conceal my physical insecurities, everything I don’t know how to do, my ignorance, my fears... Perhaps the greatest fear is loneliness and abandonment. Deep beneath the surface, I hide a sense of superiority under the guise of a defender of equality and humility. I hide my pain, so much so that I don’t even let myself
feel it. I accumulate tension in my body, especially on my right side (my shoulder hurts, my hand aches; I suffer from chronic sinusitis). There’s hardly any room for inner silence; there is either inner noise, hyperactivity, or both. I am exceedingly demanding with myself and others. I measure by my own standards, and that can do a lot of damage, undervaluing others." (Maribel)
This difficulty in connecting with others, themselves, and the truth of their existence ultimately leads preservationists to sever or destroy bonds, as well as the opportunity to escape the ontic abyss.
Finally, the most destructive aspect for both themselves and others is their concealment of inner emptiness behind a beautiful mask, all while revealing the destructive expressions of the turmoil it generates internally. The journey back home is the reverse: from mediation to meditation.