“I exist, and I’m not sure I’m allowed to or if I should.”

These quiet words echo through the hearts of many people I work with—people who show up in therapy feeling broken, exhausted, and bewildered by their own harsh inner world. Often, they can’t quite explain why they feel this way. They only know it’s been like this for as long as they can remember: a persistent, painful sense that something is wrong with them.

This is the territory of shame. And if you’re reading this, you’re not alone in it.

What Is Shame, Really?

Shame is a deeply human emotion. Unlike guilt, which is about what we do, shame is about who we believe we are. Guilt says, “I made a mistake.” Shame whispers—or shouts—“I am a mistake.” It’s the feeling that we are fundamentally unworthy of love, respect, or even presence. It shows up in the way we avoid eye contact, how we keep quiet when we have something important to say, or in that sinking feeling after a vulnerable moment.

And yet, shame isn’t inherently toxic. Evolutionarily, it had a purpose. As social beings, we needed to belong to a group to survive. Shame helped us stay connected to others by signaling when we had overstepped or threatened those bonds. In that sense, shame was once protective. It still can be. A moment of shame might nudge us to apologize or re-attune in a relationship. But like any survival strategy, when shame becomes chronic, misdirected, or internalized as identity—it stops protecting us and starts suffocating us.

When Shame Becomes Who We Are

For many people, especially those who’ve experienced childhood trauma, neglect, or emotional inconsistency, shame doesn't feel like a fleeting emotion—it is the emotional backdrop of life.

Psychotherapist Jim Knipe describes this in his work with clients who carry a deep, dissociated sense of “badness.” These individuals may enter therapy not fully aware of their history of abuse or emotional abandonment. What they do know is how deeply defective they feel. They often defend or idealize their parents, not because the past was painless, but because the alternative—acknowledging the full truth of their early experiences—is too overwhelming.

In those early years, children are developing a sense of self. And if caregivers are absent, critical, frightening, or inconsistent, a child’s nervous system needs to make sense of it somehow. For many, the internal narrative becomes: If something is wrong, it must be me. That belief can be easier to live with than the terrifying truth that those we depended on couldn’t—or wouldn’t—keep us safe. As Knipe explains, “It is better to be a bad child with good parents than a good child with bad parents.”

This adaptive logic helps the child survive. But it lays the foundation for a painful adulthood. Thirty years later, that same child-now-grown may struggle with chronic depression, relationship difficulties, people-pleasing, perfectionism, or a relentless inner critic. Shame becomes a defense that no longer protects, only imprisons.

The Role of Society

Our broader culture often reinforces shame. In individualistic societies, people are expected to “pull themselves up,” succeed independently, and project a polished version of themselves. There is little room for emotional messiness, much less vulnerability. In collectivistic cultures, shame may be linked to family honor or group expectations. There, deviation—especially around identity, autonomy, or mental health—can bring shame not only to the individual, but to the entire system.

In both contexts, shame becomes a powerful social control mechanism. Add to that the curated perfection of social media, and it's no wonder so many of us walk around feeling like we are always falling short.

How Shame Interacts with Trauma

Shame isn’t just a feeling—it lives in the body. It can manifest as a collapsed posture, a lowered gaze, a tightening in the chest, or even numbness. From a nervous system perspective, shame often leads to a freeze or fawn response: hiding, people-pleasing, or becoming emotionally invisible.

In therapy, I’ve witnessed how shame can obstruct healing. It keeps people away from the memories, needs, or emotions that need attention. It convinces them that their pain isn’t valid, or worse—that seeking help is selfish or indulgent.

Knipe’s work within the EMDR framework shows us that shame often guards the door to trauma. He describes how clients may logically argue their own unworthiness, as if defending an identity built on shame. This internal debate—where even a compliment becomes a threat—isn’t irrational. It’s the voice of a part that learned to stay safe by staying small.

By gently exploring the “good reasons” we might hold onto shame—such as preserving an idealized view of a parent, avoiding overwhelming grief, or feeling in control—we can begin to loosen its grip. Through methods like EMDR, clients can safely access and process the original wounding events, often with powerful results: not only a reduction in shame, but an emergence of self-worth.

How We Work with Shame in Therapy

In my own practice, working with shame is often central to trauma healing. It’s tender, careful work. We don’t rush to change or fix it. We get curious. We slow down. We offer compassion where perhaps none has ever been offered before.

My approach combines several key elements:

• Psychoeducation and Emotional Literacy: We begin by understanding shame—how it forms, how it operates, and why it has felt necessary.

• Nervous System Regulation: Shame affects the body, and the body holds the keys to healing. Together, we practice grounding, breathwork, and other tools to shift out of immobilized states.

• Self-Compassion Practice: Using tools like Kristin Neff’s self-compassion workbook, we explore how to speak to ourselves the way we might speak to a beloved friend. It’s not always easy—but it’s always worth it.

• EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing): Using bilateral stimulation, we reduce the intensity of these defenses and gently uncover the root of the shame. This allows the internal narrative to shift from “I am bad” to “I am worthy,” often bringing lasting relief and change.

Over time, clients begin to feel the difference between the voice of shame and the voice of truth. They learn that they were never broken—just adapting to impossible situations with incredible creativity.

Beginning to Heal, Even Now

If shame is something you live with, know this: you are not alone. You are not defective. And healing is possible.

One small place to start is by simply noticing the voice of shame when it shows up. Can you name it? Can you soften toward yourself, just a little? Ask yourself: What would I say to a friend who felt this way?

Even writing your thoughts in a journal, placing a hand on your heart during difficult moments, or reaching out to a trusted person can begin to shift the pattern. The first step is always awareness, followed closely by kindness.

You Deserve to Be Seen

Shame tells us to hide. But healing asks us to be seen.

If you’re ready to unpack the shame you carry, or even just begin understanding it, I welcome you. Whether through therapy, reading, reflection, or quiet self-compassion, know that you are already enough. You always were.

You don’t have to prove your worth. You just have to begin remembering it.

References

• Bradshaw, J. (2005). Healing the Shame that Binds You. Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications, Inc.

• Damasio, A. R. (1999). The Feeling of What Happens: Body and Emotion in the Making of Consciousness. San Diego, CA: Harcourt.

• Knipe, J. (2005). Treating shame and “badness” with EMDR. In R. Shapiro (Ed.), EMDR Solutions: Pathways to Healing (pp. 87–118). New York: W. W. Norton & Company.

• Neff, K. (2011). Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself. New York: William Morrow.

• Van Swaaij, L. (n.d.). Text on Shame for Clients. Unpublished material.