Who Am I? A Deep Dive Into Identity, Healing & Self-Discovery

How the subconscious mind works

Who are you beneath the surface of your thoughts?

It’s a question as old as time, but not one that can be answered in the way we expect. We don’t find ourselves as if we’ve been misplaced. Instead, we wake up—layer by layer—into who we’ve always been. Each shift in awareness peels back another veil, bringing us closer to the marrow of our being.

But waking up is disorienting. Before clarity, there is confusion. Before embodiment, there is unraveling that feels unending.

We live much of our lives on the surface, mistaking the shifting waves of experience for who we are. But identity is not the ripples on the water. It is the depth beneath them. To truly know ourselves, we must be willing to descend.

The Descent: Layers of Self

At first, we only see the 3D reality—the job titles, the relationships, the routines that frame our existence. We believe this is who we are. But it’s only the surface of the lake. Most will stay here.

Then comes the persona, the mask we wear, built on assumptions, beliefs, and inherited opinions. This is where we say, I am this kind of person. But are we? Or are we just a collection of learned behaviors shaped by what we were told to be?

Beneath the persona lies our stories and conditioning, where we attach meaning to our experiences. If we have felt unseen, we create a narrative: Because I am unlovable, I will always be rejected. If we have been praised only for achievement, we assume: My worth is tied to my success. These stories become our reality—not because they are true, but because we believe them.

From these stories, our mythology is born—the internal scripts that dictate our patterns. If we identify as the victim, we unconsciously collect evidence of our suffering. If we identify as the fixer, we attract those who need saving. These myths become the roles we play, again and again, mistaking them for fate. Many remain here, stuck in the pathology.

Deeper still, we meet the shadow—all that we have repressed, disowned, or projected onto others. This is where our hidden fears and unspoken desires reside. If we reject vulnerability, we judge it in others. If we fear our own power, we dismiss those who embrace theirs. The shadow is the place we avoid, but also the key to our liberation.

And then, at the quietest, stillest depth, there is the inner voice—our deep knowing. The voice that does not shout or demand, but simply is. This voice is the steady undercurrent, the place where we finally feel at peace. No longer defined by wounds or roles, we arrive at something both ancient and new—our true self.

Belonging to Ourselves

We are both steadfast and ephemeral, changing yet unchanged. A paradox. And yet, we are conditioned to distrust the paradox—to seek certainty, to define, to label… and pathologize.

But the truth is:

You are not what happened to you.

You are not your fears.

You are not your stories.

You are the awareness beneath them.

How you see yourself at the surface of the lake will determine the course of your life.

But who you are at the bottom? Divine. Perfect.

The deeper you are willing to go, the less resistance life has against you. Let the descent be gentle. Let the unraveling be a return.

Because when you truly meet yourself—without judgment, without the weight of old stories—there is nothing left to prove. Only the vast, still presence of being.

And that, at last, is home.

Ingram’s Path | Subconscious Integration

For most of my life, I carried a quiet belief that if I worked hard, stayed composed, and did everything “right,” my life would eventually open into something meaningful. What I wanted wasn’t fame or perfection—I wanted impact. I wanted to help people feel understood, supported, and able to move through the world with a little more ease than they had before. That was always the dream, even when I didn’t feel anywhere close to it.

What I didn’t see at the time were the patterns running underneath my ambition. Early in my career, I stayed in environments that drained me because I believed I had to. When I spoke up, I wasn’t always supported. When things went wrong, I absorbed the blame. I kept ending up in the same dynamics—different cities, different jobs, different people, but the same emotional blueprint. Without understanding the nervous system or the subconscious, every setback felt personal. I didn’t know I was reenacting something much older.

The turning point wasn’t a sudden transformation. It was a slow unraveling of the belief that I had to survive what was hurting me. Therapy steadied me enough to breathe again. Coaching helped me expand. But learning the subconscious—how the body holds history, how patterns form, how safety is built—changed everything. RTT and trauma-informed work gave me language for what I had lived. They helped me understand why I stayed silent, why I braced, why I froze, and why I kept abandoning myself in moments that mattered.

As the emotional static quieted, I found my voice again—my actual voice, not the one shaped by survival. I became clearer, steadier, and more honest with myself. And I finally had the internal space to build a life that aligned with who I had always wanted to be.

If there’s a single truth I’ve taken from my own story, it’s this: our lives change the moment we stop trying to outthink our patterns and start understanding the history behind them. When the nervous system finally feels safe, clarity isn’t something you chase—it becomes the ground you stand on.

That’s the work I’m here to do. Not to create a new version of you, but to help you return to the one who has been waiting underneath the noise.

📍 Serving Clients Worldwide via Zoom

https://www.ingramspath.com
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