Projected Shame: When Shame Passes Itself On

Shame so often comes from experiences of abuse and trauma. In my work as a trauma therapist, I see again and again that the question is not simply, do you have trauma? In many ways, who does not have trauma?

The more useful question is: what did your experiences do to you?

I have said before that shame is a parasitic emotion. It wants to self-replicate.

If you have shame, you are available to be shamed.
If you have shame, you may also shame.

That is a hard thing to hear, but it is important.

Shame can be projected onto us in many ways. It may come through abuse, neglect, cruelty, humiliation, comparison, abandonment, or the terrible things that are said to a child:

You were a mistake.
I wish I had never had you.
Why are you not as clever as your sister?
There is nothing between your ears.

These words land. They enter the body. They become beliefs. They become shame.

But not everyone takes projected shame in. Some people are able to recognise, even if something hurts, that it does not belong to them.

That is a recovery skill.

Part of long-term recovery from shame is learning to pause and notice:

That was shame being projected onto me. It hurt. It was uncomfortable. But I do not have to accept it as mine.

This is a very adult behaviour. It does not mean pretending something did not hurt. It does not mean bypassing the body. It means learning not to immediately react, attack, collapse, defend, or spiral.

And then, of course, there is the other side.

We also need to notice where we project shame onto others.

Perhaps we make a cruel comment about someone’s body. Perhaps we say something careless to a child, a partner, a friend. Perhaps we shame without meaning to. Perhaps we shame because that is what was done to us.

And then the bridge between us breaks.

In a loving, intimate, affectionate relationship, there is an interpersonal bridge. It is not visible, but it is there. The moment shame is projected, that bridge can come up like a drawbridge over a moat.

The other person withdraws. They look away. They go silent. They attack. They defend. They turn on themselves. They numb out. They scroll for hours. They eat, binge, restrict, sulk, rage, or disappear into resentment.

This is what shame does. It isolates. It hardens. It makes a battleground where there was connection.

But the bridge can be repaired.

One of the bravest things we can do is put our hand up and say:

I am sorry.
I said that in a thoughtless way.
I know I hurt you.
I did not mean to, and I am sorry.

That is not weakness it is responsibility. That is the willingness to stop shame replicating through you.

And if you are the one who has been shamed, there is also a moment of choice. Can you receive repair? Can you notice that you went into a shame spiral? Can you allow the bridge to be rebuilt?

Sometimes that may mean a conversation. Sometimes it may mean a walk. Sometimes it may mean sitting quietly together. Sometimes it may mean a hug, if that is appropriate and safe.

The work is in noticing.

Projected shame is where shame passes itself on.

Recovery is where we begin to interrupt that passing on.

Kindly, gently, slowly, we learn to recognise what is ours, what is not ours, and where we can repair the bridge.

With love,
Carolyn