I recently listened to a webinar by Janina Fisher that really challenged the way I think about shame. One of the ideas that stayed with me was the possibility of understanding shame not simply as an emotion, but as part of a protective response.

It made me think about how we might begin to demystify shame and detach from it by looking at it from a slightly different angle.

What if, at some point in our lives, our body and mind were under some kind of threat, and we had to build up this armour to protect ourselves?

When we think about ourselves as young children, or even times when we were in a particularly vulnerable state, we may not have had the resources, language, or power to understand or respond to what was happening around us. Our nervous system was simply trying to find ways to keep us safe.

Perhaps feeling ashamed, withdrawing, becoming small, looking down, staying quiet, or avoiding attention helped us to feel less exposed. Maybe these responses protected us from further criticism, rejection, conflict, or even potential abuse. In some situations, these adaptations may have helped us navigate environments where we didn't feel safe.

And so, these ways of protecting ourselves can become something we carry with us into the future.

What once served a purpose can continue long after the original threat has passed.

This is where I think it can be helpful to become curious about our shame, rather than immediately trying to get rid of it or judge ourselves for experiencing it.

Instead of asking, “Why am I like this?” or “Why do I feel so ashamed?”, perhaps we could gently ask:

“What is my shame protecting me from?”

Where did I learn that being seen was unsafe?

What happened when I expressed myself?

What did I need to do to stay connected, avoid conflict, or protect myself?

And perhaps most importantly: Is this protection still necessary for me now?

Looking back at where these responses may have stemmed from isn't about finding one definitive explanation or making final statements about why we are the way we are. It's about becoming curious about ourselves and beginning to understand the function that these responses may have had.

There can be something compassionate in recognising that what we might now experience as a problem may once have been an incredibly intelligent attempt to protect ourselves.

Maybe we don't need to be ashamed of the parts of us that learned to hide.

Maybe we can acknowledge that they were trying to help.

And then, with greater awareness and compassion, we can begin to evaluate whether that protection is still needed, whether it is still valuable to us, and whether there are new ways of keeping ourselves safe that feel more appropriate for who we are today.

Because sometimes we feel ashamed for feeling shame. We add another layer of judgement onto something that may already be rooted in an old attempt to protect us.

Perhaps the invitation isn't to fight the shame, but to get curious about it.

To listen to what it might be telling us.

To understand where it came from.

And, slowly, to ask ourselves whether we still need the armour we once had to build.