Breaking the Death Grip of Shame
How I learned that shame isn’t triggered by my mistakes—but by what I believe about myself
After experiencing intense shame caused by a failed painting (read about it here), I got back on the “easel” and created this painting, Breaking the Death Grip of Shame, which I love. For now, it feels like me. And for now, there is no shame in it.
Shame has been my constant companion since I can remember. There is an entire chapter dedicated to it in my book, Perpetual Conflict, and it seems to creep into every aspect of my professional and personal life.
For something that has such a strong hold on me, I don’t know much about shame. So, I have set out to discover what it is and why it likes me so much.
Merriam-Webster defines shame as:
“a painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety”
Brené Brown, in a post from 2013, defines shame as:
“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.”
I prefer Brown’s definition as it dives right into the heart of my own experience of shame throughout my life.
My shame is activated when I do, say, create, or cause something that could be considered wrong, incompetent, inappropriate, unkind, stupid, tone deaf, or uncaring. Which makes sense given the Merriam-Webster definition. But using Brené Brown’s shame framework, I already believe I am flawed and unworthy of love and belonging, so I assume that when I feel shame, I am reinforcing that feeling.
In my book, I listed many experiences in my life that created shame in an attempt to regain ownership of them and excise the shame from my being. It worked, for a bit, but when I was writing that chapter, I did not understand shame as much as I do now. And let’s be clear, I am not claiming to have a hugely better understanding, but it’s much improved.
I have had many shame moments since I wrote that chapter, and each one has helped me learn a bit more about my shame. I feel each of us experiences shame slightly differently, and the triggers of shame are widely different. For me, it is always making a mistake, or to be more exact, thinking I made a mistake. In that distinction, between thinking I made a mistake and actually making a mistake is the key to my shame.
Am I really wrong, incompetent, inappropriate, unkind, stupid, tone deaf, or uncaring very often? Sometimes, yes, but my mind thinks I am that way much, much more than I could ever be in reality. And when I think I have acted in one of those seven ways, I feel immense shame that typically leads to feelings of unworthiness, dished out in biblical proportions. Once unworthy feelings arrive, their sheer strength leaves me incapable of stopping them from pulling me into a deep rabbit hole, and then, straight into the pit of despair. Once I’m in that dark pit, a feedback loop dictates to me with strong conviction and judgment the many reasons I don’t deserve to take up space in this world.
I’ve spent years trying to stay out of the pit, without ever questioning why it’s always there waiting for me. Well, let’s start asking some questions.
Does my shame make me unworthy, or am I unworthy by default, and the shame I routinely feel is designed to keep me feeling that unworthiness?
Oh, geez, yes.
I start from a place of unworthiness every day of my life. I don’t consciously recognize it, but I know in my bones it’s here and has been since I can remember.
The pit of shame exists to keep me feeling unworthy. If I dare to believe I am inherently worthy by the sheer act of “being a full-alive human,” I am punished by being dragged to the pit, when I berate myself until I accept that I am, in fact, unworthy.
To prevent these unwanted trips to the pit, I strive every day to find a way to prove my worthiness. I am an overachiever in everything I do, I am hyperaware of everything that goes on around me, people’s feelings, moods, and words, I overthink even the smallest decisions, and do more than I should in nearly every endeavor, all so that I can avoid getting close to the edge of the pit of shame.
But here’s the interesting part: I don’t need to engage in one of the seven acts to find myself in the pit of shame. No, it’s much easier to get there than that. I just have to think I have done something wrong. And therein lies the issue, and also, gloriously, the solution.
I alone cause my shame. No one is putting me in the pit anymore. I’m walking myself there. There, I said it. And it feels good to own it.
I only have shame because I think I deserve it. The woman who raised me deemed me unworthy and demanded I prove otherwise to justify my existence. She didn’t bestow this unworthiness on me because I did something to deserve it; she did it because she hated me and wanted me to hate myself too. Sadly, she was a very unhappy person and probably had little love for herself.
She is long gone, but the damage she inflicted has lasted a lifetime. Now, nearly sixty years later, I am still shaming myself. And, it’s a vicious cycle that plays out every day.
I wake up inherently unworthy
I go about my day and overachieve to try to prove I am indeed worthy
Most days, it’s enough, and the day ends uneventfully.
But some days, I fail to prove my worthiness, and I end up in the pit of shame.
As sad and hopeless as this may sound, it is such a wonderful revelation. Because I am causing this cycle, I am the one who can change it. If 99% of my shame is caused by me thinking I am unworthy, then I can surely start thinking I am worthy instead, right?
If I had a dollar for every time someone said “just smile more, think happy thoughts, just stop thinking those things, etc., well, I’d be much richer than I am today. And, if those platitudes actually work, and changing how one thinks is that easy, I would not be writing about shame, would I?
So, what’s my best path toward a life where self-shaming is not my default position?
At this stage, I really don’t have a good answer. But what I do know is that I must embark on a path of self-discovery. And to do that, I will start with one question:
Do I really believe I am inherently unworthy?
I cannot easily answer that question without considerable introspection, so I will leave it here for now. This question will come up each time I paint and write over the next few weeks, and hopefully I will find an answer. And when I do, of course, I will share it with you.
And for some reason, writing about all of this does not bring me any shame. That, in itself, feels like a win.
Thanks for being on the journey.
Victoria