My ego is something I’ve been taught to use to hide my relationship between me and myself with a mask I have to wear when I’m with others. To hide what we are. It has always meant a strained relationship for me. Because the ones I really relate to are something else. I have an inner person and his sister as mediators of the nature that surrounds me and its inner self-regulating principle which has the form of the psychic dominants they are for all life. They are the ones who constantly permeates it with their guidance and organize it in relation to an embodied outside world I am constantly being educated in by my relationship with them. My inner primordial person conveys them through my cultural parents who are tasked with expressing both my person and his sister, outwardly. They have always been there as my actual relationship to my external world and in the tension that arose between my psychosocial parents in their cultural environment that constituted their relationship to me, and the expression of nature and the balance that embodies their guidance in it. They have also been something other and different from the learned attitude of my ego, and its relationship to what my artificial exterior has been for me, as it is a kind of compromise for what I really lived with, and embodied behind it. It is an attitude I adopted early on to hide the pain that arose in the absence of genuine human relationships connecting my person with fathers of different kinds. Especially my inner psychosocial cultural father with my exterior life. With fathers and men in general, psychologically wounded fathers and men. Which made them impervious to deeper human relationships, invulnerable. That is precisely what defines almost all male ways of relating from my primordial point of view. The wound is there, constantly reminding us through our need for genuine human closeness and be able to take off the attitude, to be in all of our relationships. To be in our sense of a whole in a deep connection to nature. Without shame. Self-absorbed fathers, no matter how ”kind” they are, cause it to stop growing in their narcissism, it withers, causing us to miss what we know is real as something unattainable. Literalizing everything. Genuine concern and being connected beneath their surface, to have a a social community there. Our ”male world” is pretty fucked up. And we live in a patriarchal world that starts somewhere within that wound in ourselves. Fortunately, for the person within, his sister and my inner female companion has now grown into an almost adult woman.