“Although the butterfly and the caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same.”
Toxic shame: the trademark debris from a survivor's sense of self after abuse... It spreads like a rash, turns to puss, and seeps through the soul. You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the tension in your shoulders, on your skin, in your heart... your heart.
Toxic shame is often unnamed, and ironically, unfelt.
Plenty has already been said about the issue of healthy shame. You recognize healthy shame when you have hurt someone or something. You confront your values, integrity or conduct. You take responsibility and make amends with regret, grief, remorse—and truth.
For a survivor though, shame can be distorted by the confusion and betrayal of abuse. The feelings don't always connect with their history. As John Bradshaw says, “We cannot heal what we cannot feel.”
So let's take the time to rip off the veil of toxic shame that a survivor can get stuck with and take a closer look at its sources.
Children embody what they see and feel. If a child experiences neglect, violence or belittlement at an early age and has had only a transactional experience of care—or if they themselves witness or participate in persistent sexual or sadistic abuse, it is a confusing and profound assault on their soul. If a child (or a vulnerable adult) is the witness to abuse, but not "chosen" for the abuse itself, or if they are called to contribute or to condone it, the injury is insidious. In fact, many survivors fear that they themselves are perpetrators, when indeed they are victims, not perpetrators.
In adulthood, there can be the complicated relationship with your own behavior and how you treat others. Harmful actions are often baked into a culture and a system by generations of trauma. They surface in the moral injuries of war, when crimes against the vulnerable are justified in the name of love, religion, patriotism. Under the umbrella of racism, homophobia, rape, sexual abuse—or most tragically—in the interest of survival, one can justify the dehumanization of another.
For the perpetrator, beneath the justifications, retribution, or denial is a malignant self-contempt. It haunts every action. The self-hating bully is fearful of being seen for what and who they truly are—and will rage when exposed.
This toxic shame is contagious. As a survivor, you may take the blame for what was done to you and cling to the shame transmitted from the perpetrator's own self-contempt. Toxic shame can shut you down or make you numb to your own essence. John Bradshaw says it best: It’s like an acorn going through excruciating agony for becoming an oak, or a flower feeling ashamed for blossoming.
But it is important to consider that the toxic shame you feel or felt may also be an inherited defense—a safety mechanism. Shame protected you and the vulnerable feelings of pain from long ago, a familiar old friend that served a purpose when there was no other support or help for the overwhelming feelings hoisted upon it. But shame perpetuated fear as well as a fear of living without it. It also kept secrets, sometimes even within your own awareness.
Notice when you submit, isolate, or expose yourself to an invasion of your own boundaries. Recognize exhaustion and dissociation. Be compassionate if you self-sabotage by forfeiting your dignity to please another. Note whether you find yourself blaming someone for your mistakes or cruelty to others. Do you recognize when you deny what you really feel or experience?
These are the shadows passing on through a family system, culture or religion, but they have become masks: the unconscious masks you wore long ago just to survive.
The antidote, the path to freedom, will mean truly being unmasked.
It is the ticket to recovery.
So with some compassion, check the feelings coming up in your body.
Your head will be the map; your body will be the territory.
Recognize when you feel constrictions in your throat, your chest, or your stomach when confronted with an event that you feel like you need to hide. Parse the difference between true regret or grief and the toxic shame that can create a tightening in your body, your sexuality, or your inner life. You may act with conviction from your own true values and spirit, or you may capitulate to someone else's whims to avoid a future threat of further toxic shaming. Notice if your throat closes when confronted, or if your stomach churns or your chest tightens when you feel fear.
Considering the times we are in, these may be a constant condition, but it is important to recognize how you can authentically respond with courage.
Get support. It is essential. Test your own reality, recognizing that some of your unique experiences may have resulted in living under the blanket of toxic shame.
Slow down. Pause. Breathe.
This is your life. Embrace it and claim it as your own.
Open your chest and touch the sore bone above your tender heart.
Remember your self.
This is who you really are.
¹They recount their earliest memories without any sympathy for the child they once were. Very often they show disdain and irony, even derision and cynicism. In general, there is a complete absence of real emotional understanding or serious appreciation of their own childhood vicissitudes and no conception of their true need—beyond the need for achievement.—Alice Miller
²John Bradshaw, author of Healing the Shame that Binds You.
³Thanks to Denise Ballnick, Chad Corbley, and Sandra Forti for their input.
⁴The only proper mask to wear in life is your own damn face.—Toni Cade Bambara