In the process of sharing ideas that challenge people’s deeply held beliefs, I’ve encountered an interesting phenomenon: egoic hatred. Some of the feedback I’ve received has accused me of spreading “lies” and suggested that my perspectives were born out of the “shame of my own sin.” While the initial instinct might be to laugh this off (and believe me, I did—because wow, what a creative reach), it also got me thinking.
I believe it’s important to share these perspectives because they can inspire those with a similar heart and mindset. Sometimes, we all (including me) need a clear, tangible example of why I always emphasize staying grounded in and acting from the energy of love. Harsh reactions are worth questioning—not to dwell on them, but to understand why they were triggered in the first place. What compels someone to respond this way? What drives pointed accusations that focus not on engaging with the ideas themselves, but on attacking the person presenting them?
In this post, I want to unpack this dynamic and explore how egoic hatred—particularly in the form of projection—reveals deeper truths about the human psyche and the fractures within us all.
The Ego’s Fear of Truth
When we encounter truths—or even ideas—that challenge our worldview, the ego often interprets this as a threat. Why? Because the ego’s entire purpose is to maintain the illusion of a stable, unshakable self. It clings to the belief that:
1. I am right.
2. My beliefs define my identity.
3. Anyone who threatens these beliefs is an enemy.
This is why the ego reacts so viscerally to perspectives that don’t align with its narrative. It isn’t engaging with the content of the argument—it’s fighting for its own survival. To the ego, admitting that a deeply held belief might be flawed feels like annihilation.
Instead of introspection, the ego’s defense mechanism is often to lash out. Facing uncomfortable truths requires humility and vulnerability—qualities the ego resists at all costs. So, rather than turning inward to examine its own discomfort, the ego seeks an external target for its frustration. This lashing out frequently takes the form of projection: attributing internal struggles, such as feelings of shame, fear, or inadequacy, onto the person or idea that triggered them.
Projection allows the ego to avoid accountability, redirecting the discomfort outward and transforming it into blame or accusation. In this way, the ego deflects attention from its own fragility by attacking someone or something else.
Projection as a Mirror
Projection is one of the ego’s favorite tricks. It allows people to externalize their internal struggles by accusing others of embodying the very qualities they find uncomfortable within themselves.
Take the accusation that my ideas are “lies” born from the “shame of my own sin.” On the surface, this seems like an attack on my character. But what it actually reveals is the accuser’s own internal battle. Consider:
• The accusation of “lies” might stem from their inability to reconcile with their own cognitive dissonance. They project dishonesty onto me because confronting the possibility that their own beliefs could be flawed feels unbearable.
• The reference to “shame” might indicate unresolved guilt or self-judgment within them, projected outward because it’s too painful to face internally.
Projection, then, becomes a mirror—not of the person being attacked, but of the attacker’s inner world. It reveals the unresolved conflicts, insecurities, and fears that the attacker is unable or unwilling to confront within themselves. The traits or emotions they accuse others of embodying often reflect their own suppressed feelings, casting their internal struggles outward as a way to avoid introspection. In this sense, the accusation says far more about the one making it than it does about the intended target.
The Role of Shame in Egoic Hatred
Shame is a particularly potent force in this dynamic. Unlike guilt, which arises from feeling bad about specific actions, shame targets the self—it whispers, “There’s something wrong with you.” This distinction is crucial because while guilt can inspire growth and accountability, shame often leads to defensiveness, suppression, and aggression.
When people feel shame but lack the tools or willingness to process it, they look for an external outlet. Egoic hatred, then, becomes a form of self-protection:
• If I attack you, I don’t have to face my own shortcomings.
• If I label your words as lies, I don’t have to confront the possibility that they contain truth.
• If I accuse you of being shameful, I temporarily redirect my own feelings of inadequacy.
This is why shame, left unexamined, is so corrosive—it fuels projection, distorts perception, and blocks healing.
Egoic Hatred as a Defense Mechanism
Egoic hatred often appears as anger, but at its root, it is fear:
• Fear of losing control over one’s identity.
• Fear of admitting vulnerability or being wrong.
• Fear of confronting the inner wounds that sustain the ego’s illusions.
For those who accused me of writing out of “shame,” this anger likely stemmed from the dissonance between their internal struggles and the truths my ideas illuminated. The more deeply they’re entrenched in their own unexamined beliefs, the more threatening it feels to encounter a perspective that shakes those foundations.
Rather than engaging with the ideas themselves, they attack the person behind them. This isn’t because the person is inherently bad or malicious—it’s because the ego convinces them they are fighting for survival.
The Antidote: Truth and Compassion
So, how do we respond to egoic hatred, especially when it feels personal? The temptation, of course, is to react defensively, to fight fire with fire. But this only strengthens the ego’s grip—on both sides. Instead, the antidote lies in truth and compassion:
1. Recognize the Projection:
When you’re met with hostility, remind yourself that the attack likely has more to do with the other person’s internal state than with you. Their words are a reflection of their struggles, not an indictment of your worth.
2. Hold Space for Compassion:
This doesn’t mean excusing harmful behavior or abandoning boundaries. But it does mean resisting the urge to retaliate. Responding with empathy (“I see where you’re coming from”) rather than defensiveness can diffuse the ego’s need to escalate.
3. Stay Rooted in Truth:
The most powerful response to egoic hatred is to remain grounded in your truth. You don’t need to convince everyone or win every argument. Your role is to plant seeds of clarity, even if some people aren’t ready to nurture them.
4. Reflect on Your Own Ego:
Encounters with egoic hatred can also be an opportunity for introspection. Ask yourself: Am I reacting from a place of ego, or responding from a place of love? Staying self-aware helps you avoid being drawn into the same patterns you’re observing in others.
Closing Thoughts
The feedback I received—particularly the accusations of shame and dishonesty—was initially jarring. But it also became a gift, offering me a lens into the dynamics of egoic hatred and projection. It reminded me that the work of challenging belief systems, both in ourselves and others, is not easy. It provokes resistance, not because it’s wrong, but because it’s disruptive.
Ultimately, truth and love aren’t about “winning” against the ego. They’re about creating space for healing—both in ourselves and in those we encounter. Some people will resist that space. Some will lash out. And that’s okay. Because every interaction, even the most challenging ones, is an opportunity to practice discernment, compassion, and growth.
The ego fights to survive, clinging desperately to its illusions and defenses, but it can never triumph over truth and love. Truth is unyielding, and love is transformative—together, they dissolve the ego’s grasp, leaving space for growth and understanding. In the face of hatred, fear, and projection, the decision to respond with grace is not a sign of weakness but the ultimate act of liberation.
To live and act from love requires immense strength: it demands humility, patience, and the courage to rise above the noise of ego-driven conflict. It’s a conscious choice to prioritize healing over winning, connection over division, and compassion over retribution. This choice doesn’t just free us from the cycle of reaction—it serves as a quiet revolution, challenging others to do the same.
When we stay grounded in love, we embody the very truth the ego cannot defeat.
The Twin Tree Project 