Shame and the belief that we are worthless
Shame triggers a fundamental belief in us that we are worthless.
Think about a time when you have experienced that hot flush of shame, and notice what you were thinking and experiencing. Often people feel suddenly very visible and vulnerable (everyone is going to see me turning beetroot red). You may feel you should be ashamed, and experience feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and a sense that you are not deserving of more.
Sounds horrible, doesn’t it? And because it feels so horrible, it’s not generally an experience we are very self-compassionate about.
Shame can be seen as a form of self-loathing or self-attack. It harms our very perception of who we are, and often feels like who we are.
People experience shame for many reasons. Difficult childhood experiences, relationships, and trauma all contribute to how we experience ourselves in relationship with others, and also how we experience our shame gremlins.
What shame can make us feel about ourselves
When feeling shamed, you may feel ashamed of your emotions, ashamed of being assertive or ‘seen’, or ashamed to have needs, wants, and views of your own. Because you’re not important or good enough, right?
(Yes, you are — but more on that later.)
So when you’re experiencing the things we’ve just explored, it’s not surprising that shame has a significant impact on how you are in the world.
Shame is relational
Shame impacts your relationship with yourself, and with others around you.
It gets in the way of you knowing and holding your own boundaries. It can lead to difficulties in caring for yourself, difficulties in asking for what you need, and difficulties asking for your boundaries to be respected by others.
Notice how the pervasive nature of shame impacts you in relationship with other people. This isn’t surprising when its origins are often found in those difficult early relationships and attachments with others.
Shame, culture, and marginalisation
It’s important to acknowledge that shame can be common amongst minority and disadvantaged communities — for example, Black and Indigenous people of colour, disabled or differently abled communities, and the LGBTQIA+ community.
Cultural beliefs and behaviours can also play a part in our shame stories. In some cultures, there is a strong emphasis on ‘good behaviour’ (as defined by that particular culture). Compliance with expectations may be achieved by shaming behaviours that fall outside cultural norms, or by using fear to achieve acceptable behaviour.
Shame ultimately facilitates compliance — being seen and not heard.
Shame in parenting and early relationships
Overwhelmed parents and caregivers may also use shame and anger to keep children under some kind of socially acceptable control. This isn’t unusual or surprising when you explore the wider context.
Parents or caregivers who were shamed as children themselves often become parents who are anxious about their own children behaving well and not shamefully. Their own parental blueprint can lead to the use of shame in parenting, as a way to reduce what they perceive as unacceptable behaviour, increase acceptance, and reduce anxiety.
So whilst shame feels horrible and icky, it can be consciously or unconsciously utilised to establish socially and culturally acceptable behaviours. This can lead to people ‘fitting in’ more, and potentially reducing exclusion or isolation.
How children experience shame
One of the difficulties with this is that children don’t understand that parents and caregivers get overwhelmed, or that they are humans with limitations and financial constraints. Children simply experience the world — and their parents’ behaviours — through their emotions and their bodies.
If shame and anger are used to manage children’s behaviour, and this is accompanied by pervasive abuse or neglect, children will experience an increasing sense of shame alongside negative belief systems.
It’s really important that children are able to hold their parents as ‘okay’. Developmentally, emotionally, and physically, children are reliant on their caregivers to have their needs met.
When those needs aren’t met, it is often safer for the child to believe they have done something wrong, or that they are not good enough. This belief allows them to try harder, do better, and attempt to change their caregivers’ behaviour.
Shame that carries into adulthood
For children who grow up in households where their needs cannot be met within those important attachment relationships, an enduring sense of not being good enough can develop. Those internal shame gremlins may keep knocking on the door.
As adults, the young traumatised internal parts of the self may still believe they are not good enough to be cared about, fed, clothed, or loved.
When a child experiences fear, internalised shame can help them respond in ways that reduce the risk of punishment. Over time, this can create a heavy burden of shame.
Children who are repeatedly told they are stupid, in the way, or unimportant — or who learn they must always be quiet — may grow up withdrawn, avoiding eye contact, holding their bodies in small, defensive ways. Others may present as angry (to cover the shame gremlins), or emotionally shut down and disconnected.
Pausing to notice what this brings up for you
That all sounds a bit miserable, doesn’t it?
I’m wondering, as you’re reading this, what comes up for you.
If you need to, take a moment to pause and reflect on your own experiences of shame — how it has impacted you, and how it may have protected you. Remember, although those shame gremlins feel horrible, they have helped you to get by in the world, fit in with social norms, and perhaps stay safe.
Shame, guilt, and disconnection
How do we help people when shame feels like the very essence of who we are?
Brené Brown, a well-known shame researcher, describes shame as the belief that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging. Something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us feel unworthy of connection. Shame keeps us disconnected and fearful, and prevents us from being compassionate towards the parts of ourselves that are hurting.
This is different from guilt, which can be adaptive and helpful. Guilt involves holding something we’ve done (or failed to do) up against our values, and experiencing psychological discomfort.
How shame shows up in the body
Shame is a signal to shut up.
We feel it physiologically. Our throat closes, we avoid direct eye contact, and we unconsciously adopt a more submissive, non-threatening body posture.
These are adaptive responses when compliance and submission help us stay safe. However, if compliance feels life-threatening, shame can evoke a fight or flight response instead.
Cultural and societal influences, and gender stereotyping in our early years, often mean women respond more submissively to shame, while men may respond with anger or fight responses. Vulnerability can feel less safe for men due to societal messages such as “toughen up” or “don’t cry”.
Becoming curious about your own shame responses
What do you notice about how you experience shame, or being shamed?
What messages do you give yourself about your response? Are they kind and compassionate, or self-critical?
I invite you to think about your own shame gremlins in the context of your experiences, and to consider these two assumptions:
“I’m worthless, stupid, and it’s my fault…”
Or:
“It was an ingenious way of surviving difficult things, and it kept me safe.”
A reminder
You are important.
You matter.
Your needs are important.
You are allowed to have boundaries, and to ask for them to be respected.
When you notice those shame gremlins popping their heads up, try pausing for a moment and observing them with a compassionate part of yourself. Notice what you are experiencing, how you feel, and what thoughts arise.
What has triggered your shame gremlins to feel they need to protect you?
What do you need in that moment to help you feel safe?
“Shame dies when stories are told in safe spaces.”
Ann Voskamp
