If you follow me on Instagram you probably saw my recent post highlighting an interview I did with ShoutOut SoCal about my Brand and my journey. In the caption of that post I briefly touched on my experience of going through an ego death and what that was like for me. After coming across my post, I had a few people reach out to me sharing their own experiences and what they’re currently navigating. So of course, it inspired me to go deeper into this topic as I realize there’s a lot of misconceptions of what an ego death truly is.
As with all things I share, this is subjective, from the lens of my own personal experience of the ego death and what I’ve come to learn through the process of shedding and letting go of the false self.
For a long time, I believed that the goal was to transcend the ego, to kill it off, shed it completely, and step into some higher, detached, enlightened state where I was free from its grip. After all, isn’t that what spiritual awakening is supposed to be about? Shedding the illusions of self, dissolving the identity, and becoming one with something greater?
I believed it was about transcending the human experience. That’s what I thought until my own ego death tore my reality apart.
But here’s what I’ve come to understand:
The ego doesn’t truly die. It integrates. And as I’ve humbly discovered, the whole reason we’re here is for the human experience. So although experiencing transcendence can be out of this world and euphorically magical, it can also feel isolating and become somewhat a form of escapism.
My ego death wasn’t a singular event. It wasn’t a dramatic moment where I suddenly transcended suffering and became enlightened. It was a slow, agonizing process, a peeling away of layers, a forced confrontation with all the false identities I had built in response to trauma, societal expectations, and survival.
When I lost my job, when I lost my mind, when everything that once defined me was stripped away, I found myself staring at an abyss. Who was I without my career? Without my titles? Without all of the material things that made me feel worthy? Without the validation of being productive, successful, and "on the right path"?
The realization hit hard. My entire sense of self-worth had been constructed on a foundation of external things, accolades, achievements, how I was perceived by the world. And when all of it crumbled, I wasn’t left with enlightenment. I was left with emptiness.
This is where the real work began. Not in transcending my ego, but in understanding it.
The ego is part of our human experience. It’s the character we play in this life. The problem isn’t that we have an ego, it’s when we become overly identified with it. When it becomes the mask. When we believe we are the job title, the house, the car, the status. When our sense of worth depends on maintaining an image rather than living in authenticity.
I used to think the goal was to annihilate the ego, to detach completely. But I’ve come to realize that the ego isn’t the enemy, it’s a tool. It’s only dangerous when it’s in the driver’s seat, unchecked and unconscious. And nothing exposes the ego more than intimate relationships. That’s where I see it the most now. When I feel triggered, when I feel the need to defend, when I feel unseen or unheard, that’s my ego reacting. And instead of fighting it, I’ve learned to witness it. To see that it’s not some villain inside me but often just a younger part of me that never felt safe. A part of me that is still trying to prove it’s worthy of love.
The Death and Rebirth of Identity:
Ego death is often painted as a moment of total transcendence, where we dissolve into light and never return to our human struggles. But that’s not how it works. It’s a death and a rebirth. It’s a reconfiguration.
The false parts of me, the ones built on fear, insecurity, and survival mechanisms had to go. The parts of me that sought worthiness through external achievements had to be faced. But through that process, I didn’t become an empty void. I became whole in a way I never had before. Because when the dust settled, I was left with something far more real, a self that wasn’t built on fragile, shifting sands. A self that didn’t need the world to validate its existence.
I no longer see the ego as something to conquer. I see it as something to understand, to refine, to integrate into the wholeness of who I am. To be human is to have an ego—but to be conscious is to no longer let it run the show.
Living with a Healthy ego:
So what does it mean to live with a healthy ego? It means embracing your identity but not being enslaved by it. It means allowing yourself to have goals, dreams, and desires without letting them define your worth. It means knowing that who you are is far deeper than what you do.
The ego, when balanced, becomes an ally rather than an enemy. It allows us to navigate the world without losing ourselves in it. It allows us to have preferences, ambitions, and self-expression without clinging to them for our sense of wholeness. This is the integration. The ego doesn’t die, it evolves. It finds its place within the vastness of who we are. And when we no longer fear it, when we no longer try to destroy it, we realize that it was never the enemy to begin with.
It was simply a part of the journey, one that, when embraced with awareness, can lead us deeper into truth, presence, and peace.
If you’re on this journey, give yourself grace. A lot of grace. I know I do.
Xo,
Saddaf