- Kara Purves

- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Each New Year arrives with cultural pressure to reinvent ourselves to become stronger, fitter, more productive, more disciplined, somehow “better.” There is nothing inherently wrong with growth or change. The concern is not the desire to grow, but the way we’ve been conditioned to pursue it.
In many ways, the “new year, new you” mantra functions as a socially accepted form of emotional bypassing. It encourages us to leap over discomfort, trauma residue, relational wounds, and unresolved narratives to perform renewal rather than actually experience it. From a trauma-informed lens, healing is not about abandoning our former selves; it is about returning to them with compassion, integration, and agency.
A more honest invitation might sound like: new year, continued growth… ongoing healing… slow integration… evolving without erasure.
At Kintsugi Counseling Services, my therapeutic approach is rooted in the belief that healing is not about erasing who you have been or replacing yourself with a shinier, more polished version.
Much like the Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, meaningful healing honors the fractures in our story instead of hiding them. The cracks become part of the object’s identity, rather than a source of shame.
A marker of endurance and transformation.
You do not need to become a “new you” to be worthy of belonging, care, or growth. You are already carrying a story layered with strength, tenderness, and resilience.
Growth Isn’t Always Loud, and It Rarely Unfolds in Straight Lines
In therapy, growth often looks quieter than what culture celebrates.
It can look like:
Allowing yourself to fall apart when you’ve reached capacity
Sitting with emotions that once felt unbearable
Choosing to rest instead of self-punishment
Setting a boundary and tolerating the discomfort that follows
Rebuilding your sense of self after moments of rupture
These shifts are not weaknesses; they are signs of:
Nervous system strengthening
Identity re-integration
Capacity for complexity and nuance
Deepening compassion toward the self
They are the gold seams of your life.
The places you broke open and chose to return to yourself anyway.

Why “Become a Whole New You!” Messages Can Feel Activating
For many people, New Year messaging doesn’t inspire motivation.
It activates:
Comparison
Shame
“Not enough-ness”
All-or-nothing thinking
For those shaped by trauma, attachment wounds, identity disruption, adoption narratives, spiritual conditioning, or perfectionism — this pressure can awaken survival responses:
If I improve more, I will finally be acceptable
If I fix myself, I won’t be abandoned again
If I perform well enough, I’ll be safe
In these moments, “self-improvement” stops being growth and becomes self-erasure.
At Kintsugi Counseling, I don’t view healing as becoming a different person.
I view it as reclaiming the parts of you that learned to disappear in order to survive.
Shadow Work Through Story: What K-Pop Demon Hunter Narratives Teach Us About Wholeness
Many modern fantasy story worlds, including K-Pop Demon Hunters, center around characters who must confront unseen forces, mystical powers, or “inner demons.” Yet beneath the action and mythology, these stories often explore something deeply psychological: Identity, self-acceptance, and the courage to stop hiding.
Rumi’s story is one of those narratives.
She does not become stronger by erasing parts of herself, nor does she gain power by pretending to be someone new. In fact, the more she tries to control, hide, and erase parts of her identity, the weaker and more distressed she becomes.
Early in her journey, Rumi believes she must suppress her history, her vulnerability, her shadow, and her truth to be loved, accepted, “good enough,” and remain the hero her teammates and the world expect her to be. Shame leads her to believe that wholeness requires control, silence, and self-protection. It tells her that her demons and scars make her less worthy, less whole, less acceptable. She is allowed only to be the polished version, the flawless singer, and fierce demon hunter. Performance becomes survival.
Too many of us recognize ourselves in that story, which is part of why this film resonated globally, because beneath the fantasy, it speaks to the human experience of masking, performing, and shrinking parts of ourselves to stay loved or safe.
Yet the turning point in Rumi’s story is not reinvention.
It is integration.
Rumi becomes more grounded, more connected, and more powerful when she:
Stops hiding the parts of herself she feared were “too much,” “wrong,” “bad,” “dangerous,” or “unlovable”
Honors the pieces of her story she once tried to bury
Allows others to see who she truly is without disguise or performance
Embraces contradiction, complexity, courage, grief, tenderness, and strength together
Her power does not emerge from perfection in performance.
It emerges from wholeness.
Rumi does not overcome her demons by destroying them; she transforms by acknowledging the way they were woven into her story, her pain, and her humanity.
She becomes the living embodiment of kintsugi: Her cracks do not diminish her worth. Nor do the fractures in her story make her weaker. They deepen her capacity for connection, love, and belonging.
She is not powerful because she becomes a “new” version of herself.
She is powerful because she embraces her whole self.
Much like trauma-informed therapy and parts-based healing work, Rumi’s journey reminds us that we do not heal through self-erasure.
We heal through self-integration.
And How This Mirrors the Therapeutic Process
In therapy, what often looks like “a flaw,” “a shadow,” or “a part of myself I’m ashamed of” is frequently something that once protected us:
People-pleasing
Emotional shutdown
Perfectionism
Detachment
Overachievement
Self-criticism
Peacekeeping
Stoicism
These are not defects.
They are survival adaptations.
Rather than slaying or rejecting them, our work is to understand:
Why they developed
What they protected
And how they shaped our story
Just as Rumi’s story shows, true power comes not from discarding these parts, but from reclaiming them with compassion.
That is the heart of kintsugi.
We do not grind away the cracks. We honor them and what they carried.
A Gentle New Year Invitation
You do not need to reinvent yourself.
You do not need to hide in shame.
You do not need to become a “new you” to be worthy of love or belonging.
Like Rumi, like kintsugi, like all humans in the process of becoming: You are allowed to be layered, imperfect, resilient, and whole.
Your story already holds immeasurable courage, wisdom, and strength, not in spite of what you’ve lived through, but through the meaning you’ve made from it.
You made it here.
And that matters.




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