Understanding Complexes: How past experiences create unique constellations of emotions, bodily sensations, and the intensity of our current reactions.

A psychoanalytic exploration of universal complexes and their manifestations in our adult life. Transformation as a fundamental power of the human experience.

Hello there, readers!

This is my first post of the year, and I’m overjoyed to have found the time and the writer’s mood to reconnect with you here. I’m sorry for missing so much, and I want to thank you for sticking around—my subscriber list has grown (yey!), and I feel deep gratitude toward each of you.

As I reflect on what to write next, I realize I still have unfinished parts from my previous newsletter. I’m keeping them in drafts until they feel just right to get out into the world.

For now, I find myself drawn to a concept I’ve overlooked for years—one that suddenly hit me like an epiphany. How have I not written about this sooner?!

Our unique "complexes"—whether we’re aware of them or not—don’t just belong to us, in many ways, they possess us, shaping our reality far more than we realize.

What is a Complex and why it deserves our attention?

“The more “complexes” a man has, the more he is possessed.”
Carl Jung

The term Komplex is a German word meaning "complex" or "a grouping of interconnected parts."
In latin com-: meaning "together" or "with”, plectere: meaning "to weave" or
"to braid”, together, it signifies something that is "woven together".

The term Complex was adopted into psychology by Carl Jung to describe emotionally charged groupings of thoughts, memories, and feelings that cluster around a central theme.

Our emotional inner life—around which our choices form, our desires and fears gravitate—creates a pattern that is uniquely ours, like our own constellation.

The only way to manage neurotic* complexes is to bring them into awareness, allowing us to express them in a healthy way.

As Jung said, what remains unconscious works against us.
If it sounds too harsh, I can add a nuance: what we don't change, we are, in a way, indirectly choosing.
Dealing with our inner landscape is our responsibility—it's something we must do for ourselves, but that doesn't mean we have to do it alone.

*The root of neurosis—a mental struggle caused by the tension between our conscious (Ego) and unconscious mind.

“Jung's theory of neurosis is based on a psyche that consists of tensions between various opposite attitudes in a self-regulating dynamic.
The ego, being the center of consciousness, represents the coalescing attitude of consciousness. The ego's attitude is in tension with a complementary and balancing attitude in the unconscious.
In appropriate circumstances the unconscious attitude can directly oppose the ego's attitude and produce all manner of neuroses. These situations arise when the conscious attitude has been unable to recognize and effectively integrate issues important to the attitude of the unconscious.”

In other words, when we ignore the unconscious, it can push back (neurosis) in unexpected ways—causing emotional struggles, anxiety, conflicts or irrational behaviors.

According to Jung, making the unconscious accessible to our adult conscious mind for integration is key to personal growth and healing.

Jung divided the unconscious into two parts:

1. The Personal Unconscious – Unique to each person, made up of forgotten, hidden or repressed experiences, emotions, and unresolved conflicts-complexes.

2. The Collective Unconscious – A deeper layer shared by all humans, containing universal symbols and instincts (archetypes) that shape the way we think and behave.

One other interesting concept Jung proposed is that our lifespan experience can be divided into two personalities.

• The first personality encompasses childhood and early adulthood and is primarily extroverted (directed outward).
  During this phase, we observe, mimic, and focus on learning, building our identity, and integrating into society through education, careers, relationships, and family. Our energy is directed outward as we establish our place in the external world. We conform and adapt to the social, cultural, and economic values we were born into, shaping ourselves into what is expected of us.

• The second personality emerges in the later stages of life and is more introverted (directed inward). This phase is centered on seeking deeper meaning, experiencing life from the inside out, and understanding ourselves beyond social roles. It is during this time that the process of individuation unfolds—the journey of integrating both our conscious and unconscious mind to become a more whole and authentic self.

  This phase also involves doubting, rethinking, and deconstructing the ego, questioning what we truly value beyond societal expectations and cultural conditioning.
  Doubt plays a crucial role in integration, allowing us to either accept our place in the world or create new spaces where we can express the parts of ourselves that were once in conflict with external expectations.
  We learn to take up space and contribute back to society, moving fluidly between inner reflection and outward expression.

When we navigate this transition successfully, we learn to hold the tension of opposites, balancing both the external and internal worlds.
Our window of tolerance expands, allowing us to feel safe in our bodies, relationships, and surroundings. We develop inner harmony, leading to clearer communication, deeper connections, and a more grounded sense of self.

This is why identifying and working on our complexes by going inward is essential for healing, individuation, transformation, and regaining our life energy (libido).

When we bring awareness and attention to these patterns and integrate them into our ego, we not only release the energy that was previously trapped in unconscious tension but also come to know ourselves better, make decisions more consciously, and live with greater intention and compassion toward others.

Illustration by ©Struvictory Art. Image Licensed by the Author

The Body Remembers

One important aspect of integrating the unconscious is learning to listen to the silent wisdom of our emotions. Our bodies know much more than our minds often allow us to understand.
Since the body also holds so much memory(!), working through our complexes on both a mental and physical level helps understand better our complexes.

“According to psychotherapists and neuroscientists, people's first memory of their bodies is related to the experience of birth.
For example, Otto Rank (1929) underlined how the physical event of birth, in which the infant experiences for the first time the feeling of separation from the mother, can be considered the most significant event in the history of the individual.
In Rank's view, the memory of that event continues to produce effects for a considerable length of time after birth, creating what he defined as the “nucleus of the unconscious” (p. xxiii).
As noted by Damasio (1999), at birth, the body becomes the very first focus of the infant's attention through the inescapable experience of processing her/his sensory impressions.
Specifically, the body is experienced through primordial feelings that express some variations of pleasure/pain and relaxation/tension, i.e., the individual is contained within a sentient body.”*1

The resurfacing of full-body memory responses is often relived rather than recalled, which is why some people react as if they are back in the original traumatic event. If our brain blocks the visual and chronological aspects of a memory to preserve safety and functionality, the body stores the experience in its somatosensory system and activates the sympathetic nervous system’s fight, flight, or freeze response.

This creates an intense, visceral experience that disconnects a person from the present moment, causing them to relive the trauma.
We sometimes have blank periods—even years—where our memories are incomplete, especially in times of past trauma. As we begin healing, these memories may resurface as flashbacks, as our brain gradually grants us access to painful experiences we are now ready to process.

For example, if someone has an abandonment complex linked to early childhood trauma—where they were repeatedly left alone but have no clear visual memories of these events or have dismissed their importance—they may relive this trauma unexpectedly in adulthood. A seemingly minor situation, such as a partner not calling back, could trigger a full-body response of anxiety, freezing, or distress. Even if they rationally understand that their partner is likely just busy, the feeling of abandonment is re-experienced in the body as if the original trauma is happening again.

This is a sign that a complex is being expressed, offering an opportunity for healing. By paying attention to these responses, we can begin to understand and heal the neglected parts of ourselves, using the resources we now have to support our own healing and growth.

Memories of ordinary events, in contrast, lack this depth and intensity, allowing us to remain aware of external stimuli and present reality, even while recalling sensations and emotions from the past.
Intensity is a key sign we should pay attention to in any situation—why is it there?
We may mistake being in love, for example, for re-traumatizing ourselves with a new toxic partner, unknowingly recreating old dynamics that trigger our childhood nervous system and attachment style.

We might also confuse intensity with other emotions.
Our body does not lie—it constantly gives us cues about what is good or bad for us.
If we stay open to recognizing, learn our body language and allowing it to speak to us, it will reveal our forgotten history and guide us toward what we need to feel safe and heal.

For me personally, this has been—and still is—the hardest part of healing and integration: accessing my body memory and decoding it.
Often, when I can’t find the words for what I feel or understand rationally, or when I struggle to express something, I turn to my body.
I observe its reactions, and it offers me clues about the truth of a situation, which my mind may be trying to rationalize or make acceptable.

Illustration by ©Struvictory Art. Image Licensed by the Author

How a complex reveals itself

When a complex is triggered in a situation we fear might happen, the ego loses its usual sense of continuity.

In these moments, our familiar sense of self is disrupted, and we may find ourselves reacting intensely, feeling unusually upset or out of character.

This is often the manifestation of a complex—emerging as full body response, anxiety, shame, resentment, or an old internal narrative.

The inner narrative is very important: we all have a story that we constantly tell ourselves, which serves as a self-verification theory.
We often become stuck in this process of verifying the narrative through the voice in our heads.

This voice, often influenced by past experiences and beliefs, constantly reinforces what we think we know about ourselves.
This internal narrative limits our growth, as it tends to validate our existing beliefs (whether collective, social, cultural, or personal unconscious experiences), whether they are accurate or not, keeping us trapped in familiar patterns.

For example, if your complex is shaped around the unconscious fear of abandonment, you might hear an inner voice saying, “I’m always left alone.”, “I am invisible.”, “I don’t matter.”

Even though, in reality, you are not a child who has been left behind, and you are NOW an adult who can take care of yourself or ask for help, has tools, and can choose not to feel alone, something deeper takes over.

We sometimes (unconsciously) slip back into the age where we first experienced that raw, sensitive feeling of being left alone, behind or not included.

In these moments, our rational adult mind takes a back seat, and the emotional imprint of the past hijacks our present reality.

Suddenly, we find ourselves reacting intense, impulsively, becoming overly emotional, or feeling completely overwhelmed, without fully understanding why.

It’s as if something has taken over us—a force stronger than logic—leaving us feeling powerless in its grip, in short: the wounded self seeks light and takes the spot light hoping to be seen, hopefully heal or experience relief.

This is also the moment when we sometimes re-traumatize ourselves, as we subconsciously expect a different outcome for our wounds.

We hope that someone will see through our pain, be there for us, and change the narrative we carry.

This is why the mother/father wound complex plays such a significant role in our society and culture, often idealized in romantic terms.
It's all part of the culture of wishful thinking.

Some people will show up, but some won’t—and when they don’t, it hurts. If our core complex is “I will be left alone,” even something as small as a message left on ‘seen’ can feel like a deep wound and will be felt with an high intensity.

With each experience that confirms our fear, we reinforce the belief that something is ‘wrong’ with us.
Over time, this feeds the complex, allowing it to take hold and shape our reality even further.

We are possessed by our complexes, but the good news is that we can learn to redirect them by acknowledging them step by step and becoming safe in our experiences and our bodies.

“Jung defined the complexes of the unconscious as “psychic entities that have escaped from the control of consciousness and split off from it, to lead a separate existence in the dark space of the psyche, whence they may at any time hinder or help conscious performance.”

― Rob Preece, Feeling Wisdom: Working with Emotions Using Buddhist Teachings and Western Psychology

The necessary inner journey: What you are not changing or transforming, you are indirectly choosing.

“In the first case, we must let go of many of our cherished dreams and fantasies, which often serve as compensations for our deep wounds and unresolved complexes. We also need to relinquish our limited understanding of psychology—specifically the notion that we can gain rational or so-called conscious control over our emotions, moods, desires, and destinies simply by making "better choices." Better choices are not something we control; they emerge naturally, not as choices at all, when we have healed and restructured the inner foundation of who we are.

In the second case, we must learn to recognize that the popularity of many self-help gurus and bestselling authors is not because they provide an accessible expression of deeper reality, but because they present what the public—most of us—wish were true.
For example, few of them endorse "The Descent" (the necessary inner journey), which is central to the wisdom traditions of our great religions. I'm not suggesting we can't learn useful insights from these authors or books.
However, I will say that few of them guide us to live consistently in the deep streams of support and transformation that flow within us, or help us recognize ourselves as the "Beloved" of the Self, the Divine within.

Now, there is a third aspect of the collective shadow we must confront, which involves our sense of obligation and duty, as well as our fantasies of ourselves as "good" or "bad" people—perhaps both. Note that I said "confront," not "abandon." Our obligations—often used as a defense mechanism against accepting ourselves—offer the fuel for a struggle that can refine and transform us.
Furthermore, when we challenge a cultural norm, Jung reminds us that we will experience guilt, a feeling that can only be alleviated by bringing value back to the culture.”*2

Illustration by ©Struvictory Art. Image Licensed by the Author

Healing through curiosity and dialog.

Accepting and taking risks, rather than avoiding life and suffering, are essential if we want to experience transformation, joy, and wholeness.

Loneliness, conflict, and defeat are inevitable; we can only go through them, not around them. In fact, they are the very things that help us grow, making us human and unique.

Jung said that suffering is not pathological; it is a natural part of life.
If we wish to expand our consciousness, we must bear the burden of conflict.

By this I mean, that we listen and dialog with parts of ourselves that go in conflict and listen, not react, just be curious, be kind as there are many parts of us that were left behind and need to resurface, its an exercise of how we hold and release energy.
This is necessary if we want our psychological work to be more than just a mental exercise.

”Transformation isn’t about muscling through change; it’s about loosening the grip on rigid perspectives so energy can flow.

Resist, and the unconscious will find a way forward anyway—through symptoms, dreams, and compulsions that shake up the illusion of control.

Neurosis is just a traffic jam in the psyche—energy stuck where it no longer belongs.
Real change isn’t an intellectual hack; it’s a shift in how we hold and release energy.

The unconscious doesn’t hand out easy answers; it reveals what’s missing.
Healing isn’t about control—it’s about letting things realign.

The more we resist, the more we stay stuck. The moment we allow, the shift begins. What follows doesn’t just describe transformation—it helps it happen.” *3

Whatever complexes we carry, it’s important to challenge the narrative in our minds that holds us back. When we experience these complexes, they reinforce limiting beliefs about ourselves.

Often, we overlook the many positive moments and kind people in our lives because of this inner narrative. It can create a blind spot, making us miss everything that is already good in our adult lives—things we already have but may take for granted.

Working on our complexes helps us focus on the good we have now, rather than what’s missing or still causing us pain. It's like not being able to see the stars during the day—they're still there.

Remind yourself of this regularly, so over time, you can shift your perspective and see the world as a more supportive, loving place.

Our perception shapes our reality. By addressing and healing our complexes, we’re not only transforming ourselves, but also contributing to the healing of others.

We shift the culture by giving ourselves to the world.

As a result, we feel more alive, energized, and capable of holding ourselves. Recognizing and processing our complexes allows us to reclaim our power and live with purpose.

Thank you for reading and for being curious!

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Thank you—whoever you are.
Ripples always travel farther than we know… or sometimes, they bring things closer.
I'm here to write and share. You’re welcome to read with no expectations.

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Resources

*1. Article: The neuroscience of body memory: From the self through the space to the others.

*2. Book: Becoming whole: a Jungian guide to individuation by Bud Harris.

*3 Triggered: Understanding & Transforming Complexes

Podcast:
Carl Jung: Complexes, Archetypes & Individuation – Dr Kevin Lu