Embracing Your Demons: Finding the Beauty in the Broken Glass

*(Disclaimer: If you haven't watched K-Pop: Demon Hunters, this probably won't make sense! But I hope it inspires you to get cosy, grab the tissues, a cuppa, and get ready for all the emotions!)

Well, I've just watched the film my kids have not stopped talking about. I knew from the catchy but amazingly deep and emotional songs that this was going to be something I would love. But it wasn't just the music- it was the depth of meaning. It’s not often that a film gets me so excited about the exploration of feeling and what the viewers are learning from it (especially the age group it's intended for). This one ticked all the boxes.

Not only that, but I felt such a connection to the character of Rumi, (especially in this stage of my life where I am trying to make a difference in the world) that to the absolute embarrassment of my children, I actually shouted at the screen, "She is me!!!" I'm pretty sure there are so many people out there who felt the same way - and for our teenagers - what a fabulous feeling - to finally be heard!

I’ve been described, particularly in my teens, as having ‘demons’. I agree. I did, and I still do. But then, don't we all?

We all have those voices in our heads, the ones Jinu described so perfectly. They are the voices of shame. They whisper to us about the mistakes we’ve made, reminding us that we are all just one choice away from a decision that could cost us so much. But does that make us truly bad people? Do we need to listen to them, or will they eventually just drag us down below the surface?

This is the question that sits at the heart of our struggle, both as parents and as people. How do we look at our own scars without making those voices in our heads too big? How do we allow the healing to happen without being completely overwhelmed by our demons?

I've always had a passion for healing and sharing love, and I often hear that familiar voice in my own head: ‘You think you can fix the world, you can’t even fix yourself.’ It’s the overriding 'demon' of the helper, the healer, the parent. We feel this deep mission to support others, all while feeling like we are ‘chaos walking’ in our own reality. (Hello, imposter syndrome). It often makes me laugh (and cry) wondering what people who know me are thinking when I'm regaling another crazy tale from my household!

But the message in this film is absolutely spot on. We spend so much energy trying to shield ourselves from our demons, to fight them, to pretend they aren’t there. What if we’re supposed to embrace them?

My work doing life story work with families is built on a single, powerful truth: we can’t fix it if we never face it. We have to be willing to look at our past, not to get stuck there, but to understand its weight. The goal is to let the 'past be the past until it’s weightless'.

I feel my purpose in this world is to use my own demons to help heal others. Isn’t that exactly what Rumi did? She didn't magically go back to the person she was before. As her song says, "I broke into a million pieces and I can't go back, but now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass."

This is the work. It’s not about erasing our scars, but learning to see the beauty in them. It's about taking the pain that once broke us and turning it into the very thing that connects us to others; the alchemy of turning our deepest wounds into our greatest strengths.

That pain and struggle - the very things our inner demons use against us - can become our superpower. It’s what allows us to look at another person’s struggle with true empathy. It’s what breaks us open and allows our light to spread further than we ever thought possible. We can't shield ourselves from the demons. We need to listen to their voices, understand them, and then crowd them out with a voice of our own. We should all make the...

"...jagged edges meet the light instead. Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony. The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like."