How to handle the feelings of shame?

[tammy753]

Hi, I wasn't sure if this was inappropriate or not. I grew up in an area where people actively made fun of anyone not like them. I also had parents that did not approve of people like me. I struggle with feelings of shame for existing and when I make a step toward anything that makes me happy my mind goes into assault mode telling me I will never be accepted and I look ridiculous. Yes I am in therapy but have others worked through those thoughts and did they ever stop?

Sorry is this not appropriate.

 

[CosmicJoke]

Hi, I wasn't sure if this was inappropriate or not. I grew up in an area where people actively made fun of anyone not like them. I also had parents that did not approve of people like me. I struggle with feelings of shame for existing and when I make a step toward anything that makes me happy my mind goes into assault mode telling me I will never be accepted and I look ridiculous. Yes I am in therapy but have others worked through those thoughts and did they ever stop?

Sorry is this not appropriate.

 

Yes, I have definitely worked through those thoughts. I don't think they really completely go away. You just get mentally stronger and you learn how to handle them.

I think that's actually a very common response when you take a step toward happiness. We live in a society where it takes alot of courage to do just that.

[Lori Dee ✅]

I think everyone experiences this.

Human beings naturally resist change. So, a change of any kind, whether relationships, jobs, locations, or lifestyles, can lead to second thoughts and doubt. Think of all the people who got cold feet right before getting married. It is perfectly normal.

As a member here used to say, everything you have ever wanted exists just on the other side of fear.

The key is to finally decide what you want, then set aside those doubts and go for it. It isn't easy. The hard part is making that decision.

[KathyLauren]

I can't point to a single event or learning that got me past the shame.  But one simple meditation definitely helped:  "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."

[tammy753]

I have therapy today and am going to bring up this topic. I have been spiraling since the long weekend. I appreciate the responses so far knowing other go through this helps.

[Stottie Girl]

I can't say I have ever felt shame over who I am. You should never feel ashamed of who you are Tammy. If people are deliberately making you feel like that, then they are the wrong sort of people to be around and you should remove them from your life wherever possible.

Of course I am terrified of not being accepted, I look in the mirror sometimes and think "who am I kidding?", I'm scared of not being able to remotely pass at all, it's what has stopped and still does stop me from living the life I am meant to. I think nearly all of us have these feelings, but you should not feel shame. This is not a peversion, you were born this way and nobody has the right to make you feel small because of it.

As a member here used to say, everything you have ever wanted exists just on the other side of fear.

This is a good mantra to live by if you ask me. If only I could pluck up the courage to act on it!

Guess what? Teenage girls go through that phase too. We all go through a gawky phase where we look embarrassingly bad but it takes time to find your style, your make up look, to achieve a feminine body. I believe I have got to a point where I might, visually at least, have a stab at passing but it has taken me years.

You will work through these feelings, You will find your inner woman and your style. It might seem like an impossible mountain to climb but you will get there, so many others before us have proven that.

[tammy753]

Yeah, The Who am I kidding is one of the things that send i think all the time

[KristaFairchild]

Yeah, The Who am I kidding is one of the things that send i think all the time

Same. I've reduced the frequency of this thought, though. I realized that although my intellect said I was trying to just be me, my heart wanted to pass. 

Damn.

I changed my goal from wanting to be an attractive woman to wanting to be an attractive trans woman. Even as I bemoaned not being able to pass, I was admiring the beauty of trans women who didn't pass. Maybe I could admire myself that way? 

It helps when I - to quote another member - go for it. Wig, breast forms, dress, full makeup. People then call me ma'am and treat me like a woman. 

That's enough. Makes me purr. 

[Valerie.Val]

@tammy753 the thing with shame is, it's not ours, originally. Others told us out of ignorance or malevolence, that what we do or what we are is wrong and shameful.

And then we've internalized that. We don't need them any more to feel bad, we can now feel bad on our own, all the time, for all our lives.

I don't want that any more. That's why I'm trying to "externalize" the shame again and give it back to those people who gave it to me in the first place. I don't want it. They can keep it, all their prejudice and hate, and keep on living their very narrow-minded lives.

That's what we all should be doing.

You're great @tammy753 just  as you are. You deserve to feel good.

[tammy753]

@tammy753 the thing with shame is, it's not ours, originally. Others told us out of ignorance or malevolence, that what we do or what we are is wrong and shameful.

And then we've internalized that. We don't need them any more to feel bad, we can now feel bad on our own, all the time, for all our lives.

I don't want that any more. That's why I'm trying to "externalize" the shame again and give it back to those people who gave it to me in the first place. I don't want it. They can keep it, all their prejudice and hate, and keep on living their very narrow-minded lives.

That's what we all should be doing.

You're great @tammy753 just  as you are. You deserve to feel good.

I wish it was as easy as choosing to not to listen to those thoughts. My therapist is helping me to identify the source so I cam move past them. It doesn't seem possible right now but I am trying.

[Valerie.Val]

I hear you, and I didn't want to imply it was easy. <3

[Sephirah]

@tammy753 the thing with shame is, it's not ours, originally. Others told us out of ignorance or malevolence, that what we do or what we are is wrong and shameful.

And then we've internalized that. We don't need them any more to feel bad, we can now feel bad on our own, all the time, for all our lives.

I don't want that any more. That's why I'm trying to "externalize" the shame again and give it back to those people who gave it to me in the first place. I don't want it. They can keep it, all their prejudice and hate, and keep on living their very narrow-minded lives.

That's what we all should be doing.

You're great @tammy753 just  as you are. You deserve to feel good.

This is important. Shame isn't something we feel intrinsically. It's something other people make us feel. It's someone else telling you that you should feel bad about something, or embarrassed about something, or less than human about something. You only ever feel shame in the eyes of someone else.

What @Valerie.Val said is right. But it's hard to see that when you're in a place where your self esteem doesn't allow you any sort of self belief or self acceptance at all.

This is what you have to work on, Tammy. It's your self-esteem and the beliefs you hold about yourself. When you think you are the worst of the worst, then whatever people tell you will reinforce that belief. When you trust what other people think about you more than what you think about you, because that voice inside isn't one you want to listen to... it's hard.

But... you also have to try to understand why someone will make you try to feel this way. And often it has nothing to do with you. When you are someone outside what people are comfortable with, you make them question themselves. Their own view on life. People don't like looking at themselves. It's hard. It's much easier to blame someone else and make them feel bad.

You are on the receiving end of that. But it's not your fault.

Val is right, we don't create shame, we are just subjected to it by the people around us. It's a hard thing to deal with, but you can deal with it, okay? It might take some work... to encourage self-belief. But you are worth it, sweetie. You are. No one should be a prisoner to the whims of the world around them.

I believe in you.

[tammy753]

So I know the main source is my Mother which I am coming to terms with. I think she was trying to protect me this was in the 90's in Rural America. My Therapist is helping me with that but it is so engrained in me after 30+ years that it seems insurmountable. I appreciate all the insights!

[Sephirah]

So I know the main source is my Mother which I am coming to terms with. I think she was trying to protect me this was in the 90's in Rural America. My Therapist is helping me with that but it is so engrained in me after 30+ years that it seems insurmountable. I appreciate all the insights!

Nothing is insurmountable, Tammy. Nothing. There is no mountain you can't climb, okay? Take it one step at a time. Deal with one thing at a time. Don't look at the whole, just look at the next thing you want to do. Enough of those, and you will get to where you want to be, okay? Life is a series of small hurdles. Get past one then look to the next.

You can do this. You really can.

[Valerie.Val]

In a way, well meant advice by loved ones is so much worse than slurs and humiliation by bullies. And much deeper ingrained. I can't share it publicly but one such advice from dad led me to the most horrible years of my life. However he meant well. He was just wrong. He made a mistake. I think an important part of healing is forgiveness.

Dear Tammy I'm definitely not presuming to know or understand your situation by sharing this bit of my life. I guess I'm just trying to say, whoever the people were who filled us with doubt, they were just wrong. Dead wrong. And you were right. You belong in this world just as you are.

With all my heart I wish you will soon overcome the ghosts of your past.

Actually I wish this for all of us.

*big hug*, Tammy.

[Charlotte Kitty ✅]

Personality I don't get feelings of shame but do get strong feelings of inadequacy. So the part where you mention thinking you look ridiculous is more familiar. It's kinda like a self critical attack. Any progress forwards requires a response as to why its not progress. I think these often stem from childhood put downs, but actually I'm starting to think this is just hard. Transition is hard. We convince ourselves this process is the answer to all our problems and the key to utopia - we are going to be our true selves right. Indeed starting transition or HRT comes with a big dose of euphoria, which carries us for ages. Well, we know what happens with something we place on a pedestal. Actually it can be an arduous journey of finding out who you really are. What you really want. And kinda being a teenager again. In my case a moody messed up one.

Really i think we all experience this uinquely as a reflection of our whole past and whole future. As such some things crop up to be resolved. Like a rebirth so to speak.

Charlotte 😻

[KristaFairchild]

So I know the main source is my Mother which I am coming to terms with. I think she was trying to protect me this was in the 90's in Rural America. My Therapist is helping me with that but it is so engrained in me after 30+ years that it seems insurmountable. I appreciate all the insights!

I did a lot of inner child work and learned about the source of many negative feelings about myself. Keep going!

[Valerie.Val]

Yes inner child work is important. It was key to realising who I am.

[Susan ✅]

Enough said...

🔗

Unfortunately, the video does not include a transcript, though I wish it did. For context, the clip features a scene from the television show Pose where the character Elektra forcefully rejects another person's attempt to shame her, eloquently putting the woman in her place.

The lesson to take from this is to be exactly who you are, take up the space you deserve, and never let anyone make you feel ashamed of who you are today or who you were in the past.

I wrote about this recently in another thread:

...I'm going to attach a picture. It's me in my twenties, with four of my coworkers. I'm on the far left.

Here's what's happening in this picture. We had just raised a sunken towboat called The Thrifty Nickel off the bottom of the Cumberland River at Cumberland City, Tennessee. The boat in the picture is covered in mud and algae, and if you look closely, you can see the water still pumping out of it behind our feet and legs—that's the boat draining, not the river. Five of us spent that day bringing it up. I was one of two salvage divers working to do so. It was a win that belonged to all of us. At the end of the day, somebody wanted a photo, and the five of us dutifully lined up on the deck.

I'll tell you something honest. I don't remember much of me from back then. I can tell you what we did that day, I can tell you whose hands were on what, and I can tell you the smell of the algae and the sound of the pumps. But the person I was inside that body—what she was thinking, what she was feeling, what she was carrying—most of that has gone soft on me. It faded the way everything fades over thirty-some years. The girl in that picture is mostly a stranger to me now. I love her, I'm grateful to her, and she got me here. But I don't live inside her anymore, and most of who she was day-to-day has slipped past the edge of what I can reach.

And yet—look at her on the left. The belt is cinched tighter than anyone else's in the frame. The posture is more contained. The face turns just slightly differently from the rest. The body in the picture didn't know yet why it was holding itself the way it was. The day wasn't about her. Nobody was looking at her. And the frame underneath was still her—still me—still the Susan you're reading right now. I didn't become someone new. I became visible. The me underneath was always there, waiting for the outside to catch up. The belt in that picture knew before I did.

I want to tell you one more thing about that photo because it will help with the next part.

Ten or fifteen years after it was taken, somebody finally gave me a copy. I hadn't seen it in all that time. I sat down and looked at it—the five of us lined up on the deck, the boat draining behind us, the dust and grime of the day—and I went through the faces. I recognized the other four men. I didn't recognize the person on the far left.

I kept the picture. I looked at it now and then over the months that followed. I knew I'd been at that job. I knew I'd been on that boat that day. I could even remember the smell of the algae and the sound of the pumps. But when I looked at the photo, my eye passed right over the person on the left without ever catching on her. She was just one of the strangers in the frame.

Six months went by like that. Half a year of looking at a picture of myself and not even recognizing that I was in it.

Then, one day, it landed. I was looking at the photo, and something clicked—oh. That's me. The one with the cinched belt. I'd been standing in that line all along.

Sit with that for a minute... because it tells you something about how this works that I couldn't have made up if I tried. Someone I'd been—recently enough that I remembered the day in detail—was so far from who I'd become that my own eye couldn't find her in a photograph. Not because I was running from her. Not because I'd done anything to push her away. Just because the present had kept arriving for a decade, and there had only been so much room. The version of me in that picture had softened so completely that she stopped being someone I recognized as myself.

The fade isn't a thing that takes a lifetime. It happens while you're living. The present moves forward, and the old shape goes soft on its own, whether you want it to or not—sometimes more thoroughly than you'd believe.

I want to be clear about something because the way I just told that story could be misread. I'm not ashamed of the person on that boat. I'm not ashamed of who I was then, and I'm certainly not ashamed of who I am now. The not-recognizing wasn't rejection. It was just distance—the natural distance you grow from any earlier version of yourself when enough years pass. I love her. She got me here. She did the best she could with what she had.

If you want to see how I hold both of those truths at the same time, look at the top of my Facebook page. I have that workboat photo as the header, with a picture of who I am today layered over the top of it. Both of us, on the same page, every day, where anyone can see. The old me and the now me, side by side. Not one erasing the other. Not one ashamed of the other. Just both, holding hands across the years...

...And now I want to show you something else, from the same stretch of years.

Same body. Same year, near enough. Same person. The only difference is that in these photos, I'd finally let her come up to the surface for a minute. Look at the waist. Look at the set of the shoulders. Look at the gaze. It's the same frame from the work photo—the same belt cinched tight, the same containment, the same face turning slightly differently from how anyone else's would. The girl on the deck of the towboat and the woman on the deck of the riverboat are the same person. One of them just knew it. The other was figuring it out.

It was the same body that had cinched its belt at the salvage site without even thinking about it, waiting for the outside to catch up. Who I was inside had always been there.

I want to tell you one more thing about those photos because if I don't, the post will accidentally lie to you.

The woman in those pictures didn't start there. I knew about her long before that riverboat. I knew somewhere between the ages of three and five—before I had real language for anything, before I could read, before the world had handed me a single tool to understand what I was feeling. I just knew—the way the smallest kids know things they don't yet have words for. There was something true about me that the body, the name, and the life around me weren't matching, and I knew it the way I knew my own hand.

Then, at seven, I found the word. Transsexual. I learned that there were other people like me and that there was a path. The moment I understood what I was, I also understood that I would transition fully someday. Not as a hope. As a fact. A seven-year-old looking at her own future and treating it as already decided.

So, by the time I posed for those photos in my twenties, I'd been carrying her inside me consciously for nearly two decades, and pre-consciously for longer. It then took another twenty-five years after those pictures before I was able to be fully her, every day, in the world. Add it up. From the first knowing to actually living as myself was nearly half a century. Decades of holding my breath while she waited...

...One last thing I want to show you... This is the full arc of me, laid out left to right.

Look across the row. The man on the far left and the woman on the far right are the same person. The bone structure is the same. The shoulders are the same. The way I hold myself is the same.

Now look at the eyes. Really look. The man on the left has dead eyes. There's nobody home behind them. I wanted to die, and I would have if I hadn't taken the very same step she did when she told you, "This is who I really am."

That's not a man who didn't have a soul—that's a woman holding her breath so completely that she'd turned the lights off to survive it. The Susan inside that body was still there. She just couldn't afford to be seen, so she dimmed herself down to almost nothing and waited.

Now move your eye across the panels. Watch what happens. By the second panel, the lights are starting to come back on. By the third, you can see a person looking out. By the time you reach the rightmost panel, the eyes are fully alive—and that's the Susan who's been writing to you all night. The frame was always the same. What was changing across those panels was how much of me I was allowed to let into my own face...

When you can embrace your entire history without shame, you completely remove the power anyone else has to use it against you.

I learned long ago that other people's opinions only matter if you care what they think to begin with. Let their judgments roll off you like water off a duck's back. Stand tall, own your story, and remember that you have every right to exist and thrive exactly as you are.