A former co-worker and I found ourselves stuck in a recurring conflict scenario we didn’t quite understand at the time. While the details always seemed minor, the pattern was familiar—an escalation over seemingly trivial events. My last dog, Basil’s presence, provided the perfect backdrop, especially during our occasional carpool drives to work.

I’m a type Eight on the Enneagram—often direct, assertive, and generally ready to take action. Mornings meant jumping into my little 2-door, black Toyota Yaris, eager to conquer the day. My sometimes ride-along co-worker, a type Two, sat beside me, with Basil perched lovingly on their lap.

The drive was just over two miles, but it included 15 stoplights, enough to test my fragile patience. As we hit each red light, frustration started to bubble inside me, a classic type Eight response. By the second or third light, my annoyance would simmer, then boil over as a careless driver inevitably cut me off.

“That jerk almost caused an accident!” I would snap, hitting the horn. My co-worker, wanting to help deescalate my frustration, would try to calm me down: “Oh, I don’t think they saw you.” But my Eight energy demanded a response that acknowledged the intensity I was feeling. “They saw us all right, they probably even saw my dog sitting on your lap!” I would retort, unnecessarily ramping up the scenario to absurd proportions. My co-worked quickly responded, “Well, if they had seen your dog on my I’m sure they wouldn’t have cut you off.” To that I replied, “I’m sure they saw my dog sitting on your lap—this joker’s out here trying to kill pets by running us off the road and needs to learn a lesson!”. Obviously, right?

That’s all it took. I was angry, and my passenger was withdrawn, upset by my outburst.

This was a fight that wasn’t really about the other driver or the traffic lights—it was about deeper insecurities and unmet needs, manifesting in conflict. The Enneagram reveals how we bring unconscious emotional needs into every relational exchange, which, if left unexamined, often result in fights. Conflict often isn’t about the fight itself but about the deeper avoidance of facing what we fear or desire.

How Our Shadow’s Coping Strategies Sabotage Connection

The conflicts we find ourselves in with our friends, family, partners, and communities are often not about the momentary disagreement, but rather about the ways our personalities unconsciously react to unfulfilled needs. At its core, the Enneagram is a mirror that reflects the shadow—those parts of ourselves we tend to avoid, suppress, or deny. Relationships, especially intimate ones, are the fertile ground where these shadows come to the surface. In this way, relationships become a crucible for transformation.

But how do we navigate these shadows when they emerge in the everyday conflicts of life? One of the ways the Enneagram offers a profound insight into this question is through the Harmonic Groups, which reveal how we cope with disappointment, especially in relationships. Our conflict de-escalation tactics as revealed through the Harmonic Groups show us how each type attempts to avoid the discomfort of unmet needs, offering us a map of conflict avoidance strategies.

The Harmonic Groups: Our Love Offerings in Conflict

The Harmonic Groups divide the nine types into three clusters, each representing a particular way of dealing with conflict. These groups point to our instinctive reactions when things don’t go as planned, when desires are unmet, or when we feel unseen or unappreciated by those we love. What’s fascinating is that, in our attempts to avoid conflict, we unconsciously offer what we believe will resolve the tension, which often backfires. In essence, our “love offering” may not be what our partner needs or can receive in that moment, leading to misunderstanding and escalation.

The Positive Outlook Group (Types Two, Seven, and Nine) 

Types Two, Seven, and Nine respond to conflict with an almost automatic reframing or shifting towards positivity. The Positive Outlook group, as it’s known, will often downplay the problem, offering hope or reassurance. Their strategy is to maintain harmony by suggesting, “It’s not as bad as it seems” or “Let’s find the silver-lining here” or “Look on the bright side, things could be worse.” They believe that if they can just keep the situation light, they can avoid falling into deeper conflict. The shadow here is that this approach can feel dismissive to others, especially those who need their emotional reality validated. For someone in the Emotional Intensity group, for instance, this reframing might feel like avoidance or denial of what’s really going on.

For example, Type Nines might say, “Let’s not get too worked up. We can figure this out later,” when their partner is already knee-deep in frustration. To the partner, this can come across as emotional abandonment, making the conflict worse. The underlying shadow for the Positive Outlook group is the fear of being overwhelmed by emotional intensity or confrontation, so they seek to smooth things over as a way to sidestep deeper engagement.

The Emotional Intensity Group (Types Four, Six, and Eight)

On the opposite end, Types Four, Six, and Eight form what’s called the Emotional Intensity or Reactive group. These types are less interested in maintaining peace at all costs and more focused on expressing their truth. They need to “discharge” their emotions to feel understood—not unsimilar to letting the steam of a rice cooker blow out the top of the little nozzle. When conflict arises, they want to confront it head-on, believing that through intensity and raw honesty, they can work through the issue. But the shadow here is that their intensity can feel overwhelming or even aggressive to others, especially those in the Positive Outlook or Rational Competency groups.

A Type Eight might slam a door or raise their voice, not to intimidate their partner, but to get their feelings out in the open. To them, this is an act of honesty, an invitation to address the problem directly. But to a Type Two or Nine this emotional intensity might feel like an attack, causing them to withdraw even further. The shadow here is the fear of vulnerability; the raw intensity is often a protective barrier to avoid showing the deeper fear of being hurt.

The Rational Competency Group (Types One, Three, and Five)

Lastly, Types One, Three, and Five belong to the Rational Competency group. These types navigate conflict by trying to figure it out logically. They want to assess the situation, find solutions, and move on efficiently. The shadow here is that their cool, rational approach can come across as emotionally detached or dismissive, especially to those in the Emotional Intensity group, who need to feel their emotions are being acknowledged and felt. Rational Competency types often struggle to engage with emotions when they feel overwhelmed, preferring to retreat into problem-solving mode.

Maybe you’ve encountered a Type Five might saying something like, “Let’s not make this emotional. What’s the real issue here?” In doing so, they may overlook their partner’s emotional state, inadvertently escalating the conflict. The underlying shadow for the Rational Competency group is the fear of being seen as incompetent or unprepared, so they focus on staying grounded in logic, avoiding the messy emotional terrain that feels beyond their control.

Transforming Relationships by Acknowledging the Shadow from Unconscious Reactions to Conscious Engagement

In relationships, these Harmonic Group dynamics are constantly at play, and often, conflicts arise when one partner’s love offering isn’t received or understood by the other. Over time, if we don’t learn to see these patterns, we risk creating relational dynamics that keep us stuck in conflict. But the beauty of the Enneagram is that it offers a way forward.

Each group’s strategy is a reflection of deeper fears and longings—our shadow. The Positive Outlook group fears being overwhelmed by emotional conflict, the Emotional Intensity group fears being vulnerable, and the Rational Competency group fears being ineffective or emotionally overwhelmed. By recognizing these patterns in ourselves and our partners, we can bring compassion into our conflicts, understanding that these behaviors are not meant to harm, but are protective strategies developed in response to the shadows we carry.

Allowing Relationships to Shape Our Transformation

Relationships are not just a space where we encounter the best and worst of ourselves—they are the crucibles where transformation happens. In learning to navigate the Harmonic Groups with awareness, we create opportunities for growth. Our partners become mirrors, reflecting back the parts of ourselves that we would rather not see. It is in the friction of these conflicts, in the misunderstandings and emotional flare-ups, that we are invited to grow.

This is where shadow work begins. It starts by noticing how our type’s default coping strategy, the one we believe will keep us safe, actually limits our ability to connect authentically. The work is to acknowledge when we’re in conflict, not just with our partner, but with our own shadow. And when we can bring awareness to these moments, we give ourselves and our partners the gift of transformation.

The Dance of Conflict and Connection

And so, back to our morning drive to the office. When I smashed the horn and yelled at the driver in front of me, what I truly wanted was for my co-worker to receive the intensity I was offering—a reflection of the emotional charge that felt so real and pressing in that moment. But their response was never quite the validation I sought. Their instinct to smooth over the situation, to offer me a reframing—“I don’t think they saw you”—was meant as an act of love, an attempt to calm the waters. They were offering their gift, the desire for connection and harmony, through the lens of positive outlook, but it wasn’t what I needed or could accept in that moment.

We were locked in our own Harmonic Group styles. I, operating from the reactive stance, needed my frustration to be acknowledged. They, from the positive outlook stance, were focused on maintaining harmony, hoping their words would ease the tension. But my reaction was not about the driver. It was about the deeper shadows of unmet emotional needs—about being seen, being understood, about vulnerability hidden beneath the intensity.

It’s tragic how often conflicts like this are unnecessary, arising from the mismatched styles of our Harmonic Groups. What we’ve learned is that the third style—rational competency—is the reconciling force, the approach that can actually lead to resolution. This approach allows us to step back and understand our underlying motivations, peeling back the layers of ego defenses to see what’s really at play.

When we’re able to receive the gift the other person offers, we establish connection. In that connection, trust is built, and clarity emerges. We can meet each other in the middle. For me, it might look like my co-worker mirroring my energy with a response like, “What a jerk! That driver was totally out of line!” Even though this isn’t their natural response, when they meet me there, it helps me feel seen. And once that emotional charge is validated, I can relax. Then, when they eventually ask me to slow down, I’m able to hear it with openness rather than defensiveness.

But the real transformation occurs when we acknowledge the shadow—the parts of ourselves that we’re trying to protect through our automatic responses. For me, it’s the vulnerability that underlies the anger. For my co-worker, it’s the fear of conflict and the need for approval that drives their positive reframing. When we recognize and accept these shadows, we can begin to let them go. It’s not about winning the argument or smoothing over discomfort; it’s about allowing ourselves to be truly seen and received.

Yet, as is often the case, we get stuck. We double down on our strategies—my reactive stance getting louder, and their positive outlook trying harder to maintain peace. But these automatic responses only keep us locked in the conflict. The real breakthrough comes when we appeal to the third style: rational competency. It allows us to step outside the fight, to recognize the shadows we’re projecting onto each other, and to meet on neutral ground.

After one of those tough rides to work, reconciliation often looked like one of us walking into the other’s office with a simple, “Can we start over?” In that moment, I could admit that yes, I could be a less aggressive driver, and they could acknowledge that maybe Basil shouldn’t be sitting on their lap as we drove through city traffic.

A seemingly simple solution, but one that required both of us to step outside of our default stances and receive each other’s gifts with openness. It’s a small glimpse into the work of receiving and transforming, of letting down our defenses and allowing ourselves to be vulnerable.

And this brings us to Psyche and Eros. Their story, too, is one of shadow, of the fears and desires we carry into our relationships, of how those unexamined aspects of ourselves can create conflict. Just as in our morning drive, where the surface argument wasn’t about the driver, Psyche’s journey was never just about her relationship with Eros. It was about the shadow of her own insecurities, her fear of truly being known, and the path she had to walk to embrace those parts of herself.

Eros and Psyche: Revealing the Shadow in Relationships through Love and Fear

In a world where gods and mortals coexisted, Psyche—a mortal princess of unimaginable beauty—captured the envy of the goddess Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and pleasure. The goddess feared that Psyche’s radiance would eclipse her own, leaving her temples forsaken and her followers adoring this mere human instead. Enraged, Aphrodite devised a cruel scheme. She summoned her son, Eros, the god of passion and desire, and commanded him to curse Psyche—to make her fall hopelessly in love with a vile monster.

Eros, loyal yet mischievous, set out under the cover of darkness. He crept into Psyche’s room as she slept, prepared to pierce her heart with his enchanted arrow whose tips forced those pieced by them to fall in love. But as he gazed upon her, Eros was undone. Her beauty was so overwhelming that his hand faltered, and in a moment of clumsy fate, he pricked himself instead. His heart—once immune to mortal frailty—became consumed with love for her.

Unable to follow through with his mother’s plan, Eros whisked Psyche away to a hidden palace, a paradise of shimmering gold and eternal twilight. There, he visited her only under the shadow of night, veiling his face from her curious eyes. He whispered his love, his touch tender, yet he forbade her from ever seeing who he truly was. “Love must trust the unseen,” he told her.

Days passed in bliss, yet doubt began to gnaw at Psyche’s heart. Her jealous sisters, drawn to the magnificence of her new life, planted seeds of suspicion. “What kind of man hides himself in darkness?” they whispered. “What horrors does he conceal?” Troubled and torn, Psyche could no longer resist. That night, while Eros lay asleep beside her, she lit a lamp to gaze upon her mysterious lover. The light revealed not a monster but a god—Eros, radiant and divine. She was awestruck by his beauty, his golden skin shimmering like the dawn, his wings folded in repose.

But in her trembling hand, the lamp tilted, spilling a drop of hot oil onto his chest. Eros awoke with a start, his eyes full of betrayal as he saw the light—and the knife she held, meant to defend herself from the monster she had been led to believe he was. “You have broken my trust,” he said, his voice thick with sorrow. “Love cannot survive without it.”

With those words, Eros flew from her in anguish, leaving Psyche to collapse, heartbroken and alone in the palace that now felt like a prison.

Desperate to win back his love, Psyche humbled herself and sought out Aphrodite, begging for help. The goddess, still seething with envy, agreed to set Psyche four impossible tasks, tasks designed to break her spirit. But Psyche, driven by her love for Eros, faced each one with courage.

First, Aphrodite demanded she sort an enormous pile of seeds by dawn, an insurmountable task for any mortal. But Eros, secretly watching from afar, sent an army of ants to help her, each tiny creature sorting grain by grain.

Next, Psyche was sent to gather golden wool from the fierce rams of the sun. These beasts were known to trample and devour humans. But Psyche, with cunning, waited until the rams rested and collected the wool that clung to the branches of nearby bushes.

The third task was to fetch water from the river Styx, which flowed perilously from a mountain cliff. Psyche, with no way to climb, despaired. But Zeus, moved by her plight, sent his eagle to fetch the water from the impossible heights.

Finally, Aphrodite gave her the most perilous task of all: to journey to the underworld and retrieve a box of beauty from Persephone, the queen of the dead. Psyche, armed with Eros’s secret instructions, faced the dangers of the underworld. She gave the ferryman Charon a coin for passage and soothed the three-headed hound Cerberus with a honeyed cake. But on her return, curiosity once again overcame her. Thinking the box held the secret to restoring her beauty after such a grueling ordeal, Psyche opened it. Instead of beauty, a black mist escaped, enveloping her in a deathly sleep.

It was Eros who found her lifeless body, overcome by sorrow and love. Ignoring his mother’s wrath, he carried Psyche to Olympus, where he begged Zeus to intervene. The king of the gods, touched by their story, granted Psyche immortality. She drank ambrosia, becoming the goddess of the soul, finally united with Eros for eternity.

And so, their love, tested by jealousy, doubt, and death, was reborn in the stars. Psyche, once mortal and fragile, became a symbol of the soul’s journey—the union of love and trust, the delicate dance between the seen and unseen, and the ultimate triumph of devotion over doubt.

Transformation Through Shadow Work

In the ancient myth of Eros and Psyche, we are invited into a timeless narrative that captures the core tension of relationships: the fear of being truly seen. Psyche’s journey reveals how love and trust can be fractured by our insecurities, while Eros’s ultimatum—”Love cannot live without trust”—speaks to the delicate balance that all relationships must navigate. Through the lens of the Enneagram, this myth illustrates the shadow dynamics we all face when it comes to intimacy, vulnerability, and self-acceptance.

One of the most profound truths about relationships is that they are mirrors, reflecting back to us the parts of ourselves we often try to hide. As mentioned earlier, relationships serve as crucibles for transformation, places where our egos are exposed, where we cannot escape our shadow sides. Psyche, driven by her curiosity and insecurity, mirrors the fear many of us hold: the fear of being known. In the Enneagram, this fear often shows up as our core motivation for self-protection. Whether we are hiding behind the masks of competence, goodness, or strength, there is always the lurking terror that if someone really saw us—saw who we are behind the roles we play—our relationship would not survive.

Eros, too, reveals a shadow we can all relate to. He fears that Psyche, upon seeing his divine form, would reject him. His reluctance to show himself points to a universal theme in relationships: the fear that if we are truly known, we will be judged as inadequate. Eros believes that hiding part of himself is essential for maintaining their love, but as we see in the story, this secrecy becomes the very thing that drives them apart. His fear of being known mirrors the insecurity many of us bring into our partnerships—the fear that, if exposed, our flaws will make us unlovable.

In relationships, certainty often masquerades as the need for possession. Psyche’s sisters plant the seed of doubt by feeding her insecurity. They tell her that unless she knows the full truth about her mysterious lover, she cannot be safe. This drives Psyche to seek certainty at any cost, even at the expense of trust. The desire for certainty, in this sense, becomes synonymous with the desire to possess—both the relationship and the person. When Psyche shines the lamp on Eros’s face, what she’s really trying to do is control the relationship by removing the mystery. She believes that knowing his true form will bring her peace, but instead, it shatters their fragile bond.

The Enneagram helps us see how this need for certainty shows up in our own lives. Each of the nine types reflects a different way we seek control in relationships. For some, it’s through knowing and mastering everything about the other person. For others, it’s through people-pleasing, making ourselves indispensable so we won’t be abandoned. But the truth is, relationships are not built on possession or control. They are living, breathing entities that change as we change. Let us not forget that relationships are dynamic. They are not meant to be held in the tight grip of certainty, but rather allowed to unfold with grace and trust.

The tasks assigned to Psyche by Aphrodite serve as powerful metaphors for the ways we often complicate our relationships, turning the path to love into a series of trials that reflect our internal struggles.

First, the task of sorting seeds symbolizes the tendency to keep track of the wrongs done in a relationship—a ledger of grudges. Just as Psyche faced a seemingly impossible task of separating thousands of seeds, we too might obsess over every slight or hurt, thinking that sorting them will bring resolution. Yet, this effort brings nothing good. Holding onto these emotional tallies traps us in resentment, preventing the healing and unity that love requires. The metaphor reminds us that releasing these seeds, these wounds, is essential for moving forward.

In gathering wool from dangerous sheep, Psyche encounters another lesson. We sometimes force new memories or experiences in a desperate attempt to cover up past hurts, believing that only something fresh can mend what’s broken. However, the wool that has already gathered in the bushes symbolizes the good that is already present in our relationships. Instead of striving for newness, we need to recognize and appreciate the value of what we already have—those moments of connection and love that might have been overshadowed but remain vital and real.

Fetching water from the Styx, an unyielding task, reflects our tendency to idealize other people’s relationships, striving to attain what we perceive as perfect. Psyche’s challenge reminds us that comparison only deepens the sense of lack in our own hearts. True love comes not from seeking an external ideal, but from quenching the thirst of love within ourselves—being present, seeing the beauty in our own relationships, and cultivating love where we are, rather than in some imagined ideal.

Finally, stealing beauty from Persephone can be seen as a reflection of how we often “dress up” our relationships to appear more beautiful and perfect, especially in the age of social media. The effort to steal and present an unattainable beauty masks the reality of what is truly precious and valuable in the moment. Like Psyche, we need to learn that real beauty is found not in embellishments, but in the authentic and often unpolished moments we share with those we love.

What Psyche and Eros teach us is that embracing the unknown leads to acceptance. Psyche’s ultimate redemption comes not through controlling her relationship with Eros, but through her willingness to face her own shadows. When she takes on Aphrodite’s impossible tasks, Psyche learns that love requires humility, patience, and the courage to confront our insecurities. She must sort through the overwhelming pile of seeds, a metaphor for the complexity of sorting through our own thoughts and feelings in relationships. She must face dangerous beasts and make her way through the underworld—symbols of the dark and difficult work we must do to transform ourselves.

In the same way, the Enneagram invites us to embrace the unknown in ourselves and in our partners. It teaches us that relationships are not about having all the answers or removing every uncertainty. Rather, they are about learning to sit with the discomfort of not knowing, to trust that we are enough as we are, and to love without needing to possess or control the other person. Psyche’s story shows us that real love grows not in certainty, but in the space between knowing and not knowing—in the willingness to stay open to mystery.

Over time, relationships change because we change. Psyche’s journey from insecure curiosity to courageous devotion mirrors the evolution we all experience in relationships. At first, we seek safety in what we can see, touch, and control. But as relationships deepen, we are called to a higher kind of love—one that requires us to let go of our need for certainty and embrace the mystery of who our partners are becoming. The Enneagram helps us navigate these changes by revealing our shadows, showing us the ways we sabotage love, and inviting us into the work of transformation.

Eros and Psyche’s love endures because, in the end, they both let go of the need to control. Psyche accepts her own vulnerability and humbly undertakes the tasks that ultimately transform her. Eros, moved by her devotion, petitions the gods to grant her immortality. Their love is resurrected not by eliminating the unknown, but by embracing it. And in this, we find a powerful lesson for our own relationships: the more we are willing to face our shadows, to let go of control, and to embrace the mystery of love, the more our relationships become a crucible for transformation.

The interplay between the myth of Eros and Psyche and the Enneagram’s Harmonic Groups highlights how relationships, at their core, become the grounds for confronting our shadows. Just as Psyche had to undergo difficult tasks assigned by Aphrodite, each of us must navigate our own relational challenges, often rooted in the unconscious motivations revealed by our Enneagram type. When we explore the Harmonic Groups, we see that each type has a distinct way of coping with conflict—whether through positivity, emotional reactivity, or rational competency. These strategies serve as the masks we wear to protect ourselves from the fear of being truly seen and potentially rejected. In the same way Psyche attempted to control her relationship with Eros by seeking certainty, we too fall into the trap of using these coping strategies to avoid vulnerability. However, real intimacy requires us to move beyond these strategies and face the deeper shadow work that relationships demand.

In Jungian terms, the shadow represents the parts of ourselves that we repress or deny, often because we believe they make us unworthy of love. The Enneagram reveals these shadow aspects in our unconscious fears and desires, which surface most prominently in relationships. Eros and Psyche’s journey is a reflection of the delicate dance between the light and shadow within each of us. Psyche’s transformation—her willingness to confront her insecurities and complete Aphrodite’s impossible tasks—mirrors the inner work we must undertake to grow in love. Just as Psyche had to embrace the unknown and trust in love without guarantees, we, too, must confront our shadow sides in order to build deeper, more meaningful connections.

Ultimately, relationships are a crucible for transformation because they force us to face what we often try to avoid—the messiness of being fully known. The Harmonic Groups offer a map for understanding how we default to certain coping mechanisms, but they also point to the necessity of integrating all approaches: emotional, rational, and positive outlooks. Just as Eros and Psyche’s love endured because they were both willing to evolve and embrace their vulnerabilities, we too can move beyond conflict by receiving the gifts our partners offer, even when they reflect our shadow sides. In doing so, we allow love to transform not only our relationships but also the deeper aspects of who we are.

While living and working all over the world for 20 years with an international humanitarian organization, Chris Heuertz was first introduced to the Enneagram in a slum in Southeast Asia. Since then, he has trained under some of the great living Enneagram masters — including Marion Gilbert, Helen Palmer, Father Richard Rohr, and Russ Hudson.

As an International Enneagram Association Accredited Professional Chris now works as an Enneagram one-on-one coach and consultant, teaches the Enneagram all around the world, hosts the Enneagram Mapmakers podcast, delivered a TEDx talk on the Enneagram, and has published seven books including two bestselling Enneagram books: the award-winning The Sacred Enneagram and The Enneagram of Belonging.

This article first appeared in Enneagram Monthly, Aug./Sept 2017. © Christopher L. Heuertz. Enneagram illustrations by Elnora Turner; do not use without permission. Cover image by Yannick Menard, courtesy of Unsplash. Content is a revised and updated excerpt from Chris Heuertz’s The Sacred Enneagram: Finding Your Unique Path to Spiritual Growth, copyright © 2017 by Chris Heuertz. Used by permission of Zondervan. www.zondervan.com. Do not reprint or share without permission.