“Shame distracts you by making everything confusing and blurry. Shame focuses you on yourself; it’s an incredibly self-conscious emotion. You start focusing more and more on yourself and less and less on the people and events around you … That’s how you lose touch with present reality.” —Bret Lyon and Sheila Rubin
Source: Pexels image by Hardeep Singh
When we push away any of our feelings, they may disappear from our conscious awareness, but they don’t vanish. They operate unconsciously, suppressing our energy and contributing to anxiety, depression, or a vague mood of discontent. Oftentimes, when we can’t pinpoint what’s making us feel unhappy, it could be that our background operating system is being run by a subtle sense of shame.
The Nature of Shame
The one emotion that’s especially adept at hiding out in the shadows is the emotion of shame. Author Brene Brown defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging—something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection.”
Shame affects how we relate to people. Gershen Kaufman, author of Shame: The Power of Caring, makes a similar point. He describes shame as “the breaking of the interpersonal bridge.” We don’t want to be seen as flawed and unworthy. We’ll do almost anything to avoid feeling shame, which keeps us distant, defensive, and distrustful in our relationships.
Eggs Are for Babies
One day when I was about six years old, my cousin announced to me that eggs are for babies. Being a year older than me, I looked up to him. I appreciated him revealing a secret that my parents were apparently hiding from me. I loved eggs, but I surely didn’t want to be seen as baby—that was a horrifyingly shameful thought. I was more grown-up than that!
When I insisted to my mother that I was deleting eggs from my diet, it drove her nuts. She told me, “That’s not true! Your cousin eats eggs.” When her pleading didn’t work, she tried, “Your father eats eggs.” I still wasn’t buying it. My six-year-old brain figured something like: my father was just trying to manipulate me to do the same. Nope, I wasn’t gonna fall for that cheap trick.
I was convinced that my cousin possessed a secret knowledge. Why would he lie about that? I wanted his respect more than anyone’s. So I believed his mini Big Lie.
One day my desperate mother strong-armed my aunt to tell her son to retract his eggs edict. He sheepishly confessed that eggs aren’t just for babies and that he eats eggs. Good try, cousin! It was too late.
I wasn’t sure what to believe then, but one thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to be a baby—way too shameful. I couldn’t afford to take the risk. I stuck with my egg-free diet for some years after that.
The point of the story is to illustrate how deep shame runs, even (or especially) at an early age. The fact that I retained such a vivid memory of this incident reflects what many of us therapists believe: shame is a form of trauma. It’s a powerful emotion; t’s hard to shake. When shame gets embedded in our bodies, it shapes our behavior and personalities. We so much want to be liked, accepted, and respected.
I now realize that this is how religious and political cults manipulate people. The self-assured leader keeps people in line by shaming anyone who disbelieves and doesn’t stick with party line, even when there’s convincing evidence that they have egg on their face.
Some Ways Shame Operates
We may have constructed our entire lives in a way to dodge shame. We avoid saying or doing anything that might expose us to ridicule or embarrassment.
Shame rears its head in ways that stymie us. It may block us from raising our hand in class, even when we’re pretty sure we know the answer. We just don’t want to take the risk! We might then feel shame for being cowardly when someone else gives the same correct answer! Shame is tenacious. It gets us one way or another.
Shame might keep us with a partner who is not good for us. We don’t want to disappoint our parents or face the embarrassment of telling our friends. We might be reluctant to acknowledge to ourselves that we weren’t seeing things clearly. Shame might make it difficult to forgive ourselves and move on.
Recognizing and gradually healing your shame can be a major leap toward recognizing and cherishing the beauty, spontaneity, and goodness of who we really are–an awake, loving, and precious human being. As we recognize and heal our shame, we remove a major stumbling block to growing as a human being.
So go ahead and eat eggs, raise your hand in class, find your voice in your relationships, and develop the courage to affirm yourself. Something in you will appreciate you for taking intelligent risks and being your empowered self, without being so concerned about what others might think about you.
© John Amodeo
