When we are born, we are whole—a portrait, a painting, a soft tender image, radiant with vibrant colors and untouched by the world’s pressures or influences. Our hues are pure, our brushstrokes bold, free from flaws or false beliefs. But as we navigate life, we learn to survive through hardships, loss, disappointment, challenges, traumas, and difficulties. Over time, these experiences distort our original canvas into a puzzle piece—a single pale color, altered to fit the world around us.

For some, survival means fading into the background. We diminish ourselves, withdrawing or retreating, concealing our vibrancy, preferences, or dislikes to keep the peace or feel safe. Our portrait morphs into a puzzle piece with a blank—a notch carved out—symbolizing the parts of ourselves that has become invisible, dismissed, or deemed unworthy or unacceptable. In every interaction, conversation, or even in our own thoughts, we question which shades of ourselves are safe to reveal. We may have become so adept at hiding parts of us that we may have forgotten some of who we were. We become a shadow of who we were. A pale, notched piece, snapping into others’ expectations like a mirror image, complementing the shade of another’s puzzle piece.

Other people survive by overcompensating. They paint over their tenderness with bold, forceful strokes, becoming overly assertive, loud, or aggressive, whether in actions or thoughts, justifying their perspectives while dismissing others. Their portrait becomes a puzzle piece with a tab—a protruding edge—its color pale yet domineering. It is designed to snap into the blanks of others. They, too, have become this altered piece in every relationship, conversation, and decision.

And so, we often ask ourselves: Why do I repeat the same patterns? Why am I drawn to the same kinds of people? Have I forgotten who I truly am inside? Do others know the real me? Without realizing it, we show up as that same pale puzzle piece in every space we enter, our shade mirroring, supporting or accentuating those we connect with. Those who take advantage are drawn to the blanks; those who dominate seek out the tabs. We may blame ourselves, feeling weak or magnetic to harmful people. We do not see that our altered shape and color—our way of being— may be accommodating or tolerating these connections.

Personal growth, self-discovery and healthy boundaries can restore us. As we examine how we show up, we uncover limiting beliefs and dismantle the lies we’ve internalized. We learn to care for ourselves, embracing the tender image we were created to be. Slowly, we fill in the blanks or smooth out the tabs, repainting our pale puzzle piece with the vibrant hues of our true self. Bit by bit, we return to that original portrait—not the untouched painting of our birth, but one enriched by the shades of discovery, forgiveness, sacrifice, and pain.

Like a stained-glass window, our mistakes, scars, and wrinkles add depth, contrast, and perspective. They weave a story of mercy, love, and appreciation for who we truly are. The people who once snapped into our blanks or tabs no longer find a place to fit. They can no longer take advantage or cause harm. And perhaps, in their own journey of reflection and healing, they, too, will restore their own pale puzzle piece, filling in their blanks or smoothing their tabs. May they become whole again, as well.

In living authentically, we find harmony. We become like a stained-glass window, no longer pale puzzle pieces that mirror others, but a unique radiant version of ourselves that shines with truth. And in that truth, we discover the beauty of being whole— transformed, healed and luminous.