Mental Health: The Social Emotions of Shame and Guilt

I've been thinking a lot about shame lately as I navigate this next phase of my existence. Shame is an emotion I carry abundantly, for no reason at all. It’s like a warm, comfortable blanket with spikes—it hurts, but somehow it makes me feel safe. Shame is defined as “a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.”

This definition doesn’t necessarily point to specific things that cause shame, which means it’s contextual, based on what each of us individually perceives as “wrong” or “foolish” behavior, likely guided by the larger compass of those around us, or ultimately, by society.

I think shame is an evolutionary trait that makes us conscious of our place in the world. When we do something we’ve internalized as shameful, that wave of guilt washes over us as a way to keep us in check—to ensure we don’t do it again. What makes shame such a fascinating emotion is that it can sometimes take hold of us without any clear reason. Shame is taught, it is not something that we inherently carry with us. 
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We learn what we should and shouldn’t do in order to be accepted by others. It’s a performative way of being, as if we’re constantly following the rules in hopes of earning that golden star of approval. If we were completely absolved of shame, it might lead to havoc and chaos—what we might otherwise recognize as a lack of morals.

The thing about shame, though, is that it’s constantly shapeshifting, depending on the standards we’re trying to meet. As society evolves, so do the things we’re told we should be ashamed of. Shame and guilt are closely related, as both are considered social emotions—emotions that arise in relation to other people. Shame is internalized and tied to self-perception, whereas guilt arises from an action—something we’ve done; yet the two often coexist. 

However, problems arise when shame and guilt are wielded irresponsibly by those who enforce the status quo. When I was younger, certain attributes were deemed “shameful” for a woman—traits I often found myself in friction with. Whether it was being outspoken, confident, or independent, these ways of being went against the grain of what it meant to be a traditional Punjabi daughter.

The imposition of shame, then, was thrust upon me by unspoken traditions I carried deep within my psyche—traditions that were no longer actively present, yet still powerfully enforced. Observing the society around me—my parents, peers, educators, and family members—I came to assume that certain traits were more “desirable” than others, which in turn made me feel shameful when I, inherently, did not meet those standards. 

There are many fractures within the self when your identity feels like the antithesis of what others expect or want from you. I was always the good girl—the one who made the “right” decisions, said the “right” things, and seemingly ended up in the “right” places. Yet, even though that was the perception I tried to maintain, I didn’t feel right inside.

Which made me beg the question: what happens when you lean into shame? What if I completely gave in to my shame and did the things I had falsely perceived as shameful? Things like being honest about my perspectives, listening to the music I love, dressing the way I want, and pursuing the opportunities that call to me— shame can be a tool used against us, keeping us from becoming our fullest selves.

Shame and guilt serve a purpose when people are doing truly harmful things—but what happens when we start making people feel shame and guilt for things that aren’t harmful at all? Somewhere along the way, we’re taught that “this” isn’t okay—but these perceived rules are arbitrary anyway, especially when they keep us bound within a suffocating sense of being, where everything feels sterile and dissolved into what society expects of us. 

If I did more of the things I felt ashamed of, would I be happier? Clearly, holding myself back and keeping things in isn’t working—so maybe this could be an alternative way of existing. I can see how feeling shame might trigger my survival instinct: if I’m doing something others don’t see as “normal,” then I feel vulnerable—unsafe—because society doesn’t approve of or accept me.

But honestly, fuck it. Shame and guilt can only take you so far before you no longer recognize the person feeling them—you.  It’s deeply counterproductive to the wellbeing of our society to suppress one another for things that aren’t hurting anyone. Feeling shame or guilt for someone else’s discomfort with your authenticity is nonsense.

So, be shameful, I guess. Do the thing you’re scared to do because you’re worried about what other people will think. Or don’t do the thing you’ve been told to do. Whatever it might be, I think it’s in our own self-interest to dissect the origins of our shame—to stop performing for a society that, in the end, won’t even remember us when we’re gone.

“When you are ashamed, it isn't because of something you've done. It's because you are ashamed of your own life. Of your own existence. You want to apologize for living.”

― Kacen Callender, Moonflower