Shame vs. Guilt

Hey, Brain. How are you?

I feel guilty about going to that activity tonight.

Why do you feel guilty about that?

Honestly, I feel guilty leaving our husband with the kids because the kids are supposed to bathe tonight and the kitchen is still a mess and and the laundry needs to be folded. And he probably still has work to do.

So you feel guilty because we don't want to burden our husband?

Yep!

Are you sure that's guilt? That sounds like something else.

I don't know. What else would it be?

"Guilty!" That's what the jury says when they find someone responsible for committing a crime. So being guilty is a bad thing, right?

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" That's something a parent says to a child when the child has misbehaved. It sounds like feeling ashamed is a good thing because it inspires change, right?

Are shame and guilt different? Are they interchangeable? In my personal life they were synonymous for many years. They both meant bad things for me. I either did something wrong and I was embarrassed to let others know about it, or my personal situation was such that I couldn't hide my differences. Either way I would use both words to describe the same feelings.

After some tutelage from my therapist and some work on my own, the two words now identify distinct feelings for me. While my labels might differ from your labels, the categorization of the feelings might be the same. Let me know what you think.

My shame

My version of shame is a nasty monster. It likes to pull me down and make me feel worthless. It makes me feel broken. It wants me to hide in the dark. It likes to grow like a fungus. Keeping the shame to myself allows the monster to grow, so it convinces me not to let me feelings out.

My version of shame is about being different. I don't want to stand out. I stood out growing up because I physically towered over everyone my age, including many boys. Because of my towering physique, I got made fun of. It got old really quickly, but there was nothing I could do about it. Nowadays, I stand out because of my choices. I still don't like standing out. When I make choices that are different than other people's, I feel that they think I'm weird or that I'm on some crusade against the masses. I think: "Don't ask me about anything that would lead me to stand out. Just let me blend in and hide."

My version of shame keeps me from doing things I want to do so I don't burden others. When I burden others it makes me feel like I'm not pulling my weight. My needs are less important than everyone else's.

My interpretation of the following song lyrics may not be the artist's official interpretation, but it fits my personal situation:

For the longest time I cared more about other people's opinions than my own. The reality is that I didn't feel validated in my own thoughts, opinions, choices, etc. Often when I shared my thoughts and then I heard someone else say something very different, I would think to myself: "My thoughts must be wrong because they're not the same as everyone else." Sometimes people were very blunt, rude, or mean about their disagreement with my thoughts, so I either backed down, shut up, or just gave in. I didn't value myself. To some extent I still don't, but I'm working on it.

This is my shame. It is untruthful, unhelpful, irrational, and debilitating.

My guilt

My version of guilt is less harsh. My guilt is an honest recognition that I've done something that negatively impacts someone else. This isn't imaginary based on my lack of self-worth; this is an objective observation that my actions had a negative impact on someone. I may have done it on purpose; I may have done it by accident. Either way, my actions hurt someone.

My version of guilt is helpful. It leads to change. I recognize that I don't want to hurt other people, whether on purpose or by accident. I make a conscious decision to change my actions to avoid hurting others. This applies to the impact my actions have on myself, my family members, friends, neighbors, and even God. Here's an example.

Recently I had an "aha moment." I was stressed about a lot of things: money, school for the kids, groceries, making dinner, cleaning my house, the list goes on and on... Something like this happened:

ME: "Kids, clean up all your stuff in the living room."
KIDS: "We don't want to clean up!"
ME: (With irritation building, I silently walk to my room and shut the door, but instead of calming myself down, I pull out my phone to scroll through Instagram.)
KIDS: (They don't clean up; they keep doing whatever they want to do.)
ME: (20 minutes later when I realize I haven't heard them cleaning, I run out to the living room and see them doing nothing.) "I'm sick and tired of you all ignoring me! You are all lazy and disobedient! Stop being stupid and clean up your crap!"

This might be a slight exaggeration of what actually happened, but it helps me make my point. I made my children feel ashamed, feel broken, feel worthless, and I was not justified. I was not nice. I actually called myself a witch afterward. I know, the label might not be mentally healthy, but it's the only word that captures what I felt like.

When I finally took a few moments to think about what had happened, I realized I had similar outbursts recently that were occurring with more regular frequency. And I always seemed to be on social media around the time these outbursts occurred.

Browsing social media had become an "out" to drown out my struggles. But it was unhealthy and unhelpful. It made me start comparing my sad life to everyone else's apparent perfect lives. It made me irritable and cranky. That was a hard realization, but it was truthful. But I didn't want to be irritable and cranky. So I took steps to change how my actions would impact others.

I turned on my phone, deleted all my social media apps, turned off my phone, and moved on with my day. Later I apologized to my children and told them I was mean and unfair and that I had taken steps so it didn't happen again. So far I've kept with it. I check social media on my computer rather than on my phone. I'm rarely on my computer during the day, so it typically keeps me off during hours when the children are awake.

This is my guilt. It is truthful, helpful, empowering, and leads to change.

My Desire

My husband and I took an online course from Jennifer Finlayson-Fife about strengthening relationships. (By the way, I highly recommend this course for adults of all ages. This is NOT a paid endorsement; it is an honest recommendation based on my experience with the course.) While most of the course was focused on strengthening a marriage relationship, I learned so much about my desires and how I relate to others in all of my relationships. It has been so enlightening to learn about the motivations behind my actions.

Here's the gist of what I learned about myself. I live to please others. I accomplish this by doing things for them, agreeing with them, or always accepting their invitations. Much of the time it's to my own detriment. I'm not saying that these choices are wrong, but the desire behind the actions is what determines whether they are helpful or not.

I learned that I don't feel that I'm as smart or as logical as everyone else. I don't trust my own judgment. Because of this, I have a fear that people will avoid me, ignore me when they realize I'm not smart or logical. This is where my shame lives. In my brain, validation by other people is what keeps me relevant. For example, if my husband thinks that he needs me, he'll keep me around; he won't leave me.

So my actions help me feel external validation. I do things for other people, like the mountains of laundry and dishes without asking for help so my family recognizes how much I do for them. I agree with people and tell them how great and wonderful they are. It helps them feel good about themselves and makes them want me around so they keep receiving my praises.

When the motivation behind my actions is external validation, and especially when my choices are contrary to my desires, the result is resentment. I feel like I am forced into making the choice. I feel resentment for myself and for the person for whom I made the choice. The resentment eventually leads to more shame.

Since going through the course, I have begun to pause when facing a decision. I think about what I honestly desire. Sometimes I really desire to do something. Sometimes I don't desire to do something but I worry that I won't have value to others if I don't do it. Doing something for the latter reason is unhelpful.

This doesn't mean I only ever do what I desire. When I face a choice between my desire and something else, sometimes I choose to give in. But it's the motivation behind the choice that makes all the difference. Jennifer Finlayson-Fife called it a "noble sacrifice," meaning that I make an intentional choice against my desire because I honestly believe it is for the greater good of the relationship, not because I feel invalid and this choice will validate me.

When I make an intentional choice, I don't feel resentment for myself or for others. I feel empowered. I recognize my desires are valid. I also recognize that I have power to make my own choices. I don't feel forced into making decisions. Self-validation, self-worth: these drive my shame away.

So what?

My shame is invalid. It's not rational. It doesn't have value in and of itself. But I give it value when I keep it in and I feed it. I give it validity when I invalidate myself.

So how do I invalidate my shame? I recognize it for what it is: a ruthless, illogical monster who seeks to bring me down. I break down my shame's illogic. I talk to myself out loud. I tell someone else. I do whatever it takes for me to consciously recognize it.

I recognize my choices for what they are: my choices. I recognize the validity of my desires.

I recognize that the choices of other people are just that: their choices, not mine. I recognize that others' desires are also valid.

I have agency and power to act for myself, and so does everyone else. I try to respect others for their choices as I hope they respect me for mine.

On the other hand, guilt is motivating. I don't mean to say that it feels good. But it is a healthy and honest recognition that others can feel consequences for my actions.

Guilt does not lead me to hide. Guilt empowers me to change.

These are a few things I've learned and done recently to help me safely navigate through my emotions. What are your thoughts on shame and guilt? How have you learned to recognize your own self-worth? Do you know what you truly desire? What has either impeded you from or helped you to recognize your desires?

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to share them publicly or privately with the links below.

Joy is possible.

Love ❤️, Jen