What I Mean When I Use the Word Shame
I'm just about ready to deliver a draft of my book on defenses to the other members of my writer's group; as part of the final revisions, I've been attempting to clarify my ideas about shame as they're so central to the work I do; the text below is adapted from a chapter about defenses against shame and reflects my efforts to sharpen these ideas.
Although I can't print her name, I'd like express my thanks and acknowledge my debt for all the help I received from one of my long-term clients, a gifted therapist herself and a women who cares as passionately about this subject as I do. She pointed out some holes and inconsistencies in prior posts and helped me clarify what we both believe to be crucial ideas. Thanks, S.
Of all the painful emotions humans must bear, a core sense of shame is the most excruciating, the most difficult to bear. My views on shame and its origins likely differ from how you normally think about it; before describing the most common defenses against shame, let me clarify these views with a brief detour into neurobiology and early infantile development.
Upon birth, we human beings are intensely vulnerable and reliant upon our mothers and fathers to help us grow. The course of our development depends upon how they respond to our physical and emotional needs, and we enter this world with a set of in-built expectations for what those responses ought to be. Winnicott referred to this genetic inheritance as a “blueprint for normality.†When our parents respond appropriately, in keeping with that blueprint, it feels natural, right and good, instilling us with a sense of safety in our world and of our own intrinsic beauty. This experience forms the core of self-esteem.