In Part 1, I explored how what looks like a lack of confidence is often a fear of being seen as inadequate — of “looking stupid,” of not knowing, or getting it wrong.
However, there is another layer to this.
Over time, these moments of exposure don’t just stay as experiences. Instead, they become internalised. This is where shame begins to take hold.
From something that happens… to something you are
Being seen in a way that feels exposing or diminishing is deeply uncomfortable, especially when it happens young.
When these experiences repeat or carry emotional weight, they don’t just pass. They get absorbed.
What was once: “That happened… I got it wrong…” can slowly become:
“There’s something wrong with me.”
The quiet voice that follows
This is how shame tends to show up.
It’s not always loud or obvious. Instead, it often appears in quieter, more familiar ways:
- “I should know this already”
- “Everyone else seems to get it”
- “I’m lagging behind”
Because of this, it can feel like truth. It can even feel like a reasonable assessment.
But often, it’s the echo of something much older.
Why the system works so hard
When shame is present, the system doesn’t just try to avoid discomfort. It also tries to avoid confirming something that feels fundamentally true.
As a result, the strategies become stronger, more ingrained, and more necessary.
Because now it’s not just: “Don’t let that happen again.”
It becomes: “Don’t let anyone see that this is true about me.”
Why this can be hard to spot
Many of the behaviours this creates are socially rewarded.
For example:
- being prepared
- being thoughtful
- being articulate
- getting things right
From the outside, this can look like capability.
However, internally it can feel very different. It can feel like pressure, anxiety, and a constant need to stay one step ahead.
Over time, this takes a lot of energy to maintain.
What begins to shift it
Shame doesn’t shift through being told it’s not true. Instead, it shifts through experience.
For example, through moments where:
- you don’t know, and nothing collapses
- you speak imperfectly, and stay connected
- you are seen… and not diminished
Over time, something begins to update. Not as a concept, but as a felt sense:
“Maybe this isn’t who I am.”
“Maybe I don’t have to hold this so tightly.”
What becomes possible
As this begins to soften, something subtle shifts.
Not all at once, and not dramatically, but in small moments.
- a little less pressure to get it right
- a little more space to not know
- a little more ease in being seen
From there, something else begins to open.
Not a new version of you, but more access to what was already there — without needing to manage it so carefully.
And this doesn’t just change how you feel internally.
It also begins to change how you show up — in conversation, in connection, and in the parts of life where you are most seen.
I explore this further in Part 3.
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