Heather CampbellToday I am keeping it real. I’m going to dive into some dark stuff of my past that created patterns of shame and unworthiness; many patterns I still deal with today and am still healing from. I often struggle with honoring my worth, as it still presents itself to me tainted with shame. I often stay silent in this struggle, push my hurt deep down, and press on with an outward smile, but I’ve learned – am learning – that my voice and my story have value. Each of our stories helps others find their own voice. I hope that if you need this, it leads to healing and hope.
Shame is a painful emotion caused by guilt or shortcoming. It prevents us from setting goals, sabotages our success, and can damage relationships. It can hold us back from experiencing our birthright of joy, peace, and purpose.
For most of us, shame begins with family. My parents were rebellious youths from the ’60s; my dad was a drafted vet, my mom an apostate Mormon. My brother and I were the products of two humans weighted with various traumas and married way too young. My dad was bipolar so I learned early to read the energy of our home; a survival mechanism. I could tell even before he walked through our front door after work what kind of night we were all going to have. I knew if I would be safe and he would pick me up and hug me, or if I needed to go hide in my room. My mom was a screamer. She didn’t yell, she screamed. Screamed at my dad, at us, at the pets. But she could be wonderful and loving. So I took it upon myself at a very young age to create as much peace in our home as possible. If I could keep the house clean, the pets fed, and be extra good, there would be peace. Codependency; which will be another topic for another blog.
Yet peace was always fleeting. Abuse and fights were norms in our home. The trauma for that is one thing but it was the tendrils of shame that were the most difficult to escape. I had the self-inflicted shame of being convinced it was my fault my dad was angry. I had the shame of neglect as I was a latchkey kid and often locked out of the house when I came home from school. I had sexual shame from my dad’s friends who always wanted a kiss and to hold me, the cousins who would make comments, the babysitter, my brother’s friends, the neighbor boys… I will leave the details out here. I had shame at school as I often dressed myself and did my own pigtails; I must have looked a mess because the classmates let me know.
When I was about 10, my dad had a friend who brought us all to a home church and we became born-again Christians. A huge shift from the parties and hookahs that I’d grown up with prior to this. My parents would attend the same home church – “The Bible Study Group” as they called themselves – for the next 20 years. The church prided itself on being the only true disciples of God, even though there were only about 10 of us in the early years; later it would grow to about 80 attendees. While the love of God and deeper teachings of the Word were lauded, shame was the real foundation of the messages. Beautiful teachings of the love of Christ would be followed up with how this love was just out of reach because we were all unworthy.
Each 2-hour study ended with another hour of prayer where participants came forward to confess a hidden sin and be prayed for: always within a breath of losing salvation. These prayers were often capped off with very frightening messages in tongues that were interpreted with a lashing of fear and even more shame.
Parents who are given these kinds of tools to navigate their own trauma and manage their children, make for very unhealthy home life. There was not as much fighting and yelling, but a more subtle form of abuse. Good grades, sports, and clubs were considered prideful things. Education was dangerous if it was not Bible-based. Puberty was albeit punished; I had to hide everything I was going through and shamed for asking questions. I was taught that periods were God’s punishment to Eve and therefore all women. Everything I did, I was told, made God mad; spiritual shame.
Every decision I ever faced would paralyze me into twisted knots of missing God’s will. We were taught that our own hearts and emotions were deceitful above all else. Trusting intuition was basically trusting the whispers of Satan. So my young-minded conclusion to this logic was 1) if I have an intuitive pull toward or away from something, it’s wrong 2) being miserable means I’m fulfilling the purpose for my existence which is to forsake and deny myself.
A result of growing up in this environment created patterns of inescapable guilt and fear. By this time in my life I was so entangled in shame, I could barely breathe. The product of this kind of childhood, for me, was depression, frequent suicidal ideation, and my best attempt at numbness as the constant sting of guilt had become unbearable. I began to have anxiety and frequent panic attacks in high school that lasted through adulthood as a physical response to the cortisol that was constantly pumping through me.
The formative years of adolescence are when much of our neural growth and trimming takes place. In other words, much of the mindset and subconscious habits are set during this time. For me, my subconscious was programmed with a paradigm of codependency, that I am unworthy, God is always mad at me, and I have no value other than to serve God in my shame.
Shame and a sense of unworthiness is not a motivator for making good decisions in one’s life. Quite the opposite. It leads you to a place where you look for people with an even lower vibration than you because you feel unworthy of success, love, even hope. I have many stories of where the shame has taken me that I’ll save for when I write a book one day.
Fortunately, I had two things going for me: I am a natural black sheep, and I am curious. I have always loved school. I gobbled up my education, especially science which contradicted and jostled my belief system. In college, I flourished as I soaked up learning at even deeper levels – yet always tinged with shame. Especially when I started to rebel against my beliefs by opening myself up to other ideas. I dabbled in yoga and meditation which was certain to send me to hell. I listened with intrigue to friends share Buddhist or Taoist beliefs. I worked with atheist colleagues who were the kindest people I had ever met. I became dear friends with people in the LGTBQ community. I was weaving a lovely tapestry of co-workers and friends from various cultures and with different beliefs that have helped me see that the world is bigger than 10 – 80 fearful, shame-filled, lonely people.
Nonetheless, clearing up decades of subconscious programming and shaking loose a dense neural net is no easy task. I’ve been working on healing for over 10 years and am getting there! My body is still prone to anxiety and the occasional panic attack that will rear its very inconsiderate head out of nowhere sometimes. I still struggle with shame, but it is not the fear of God or hell, it is more of a feeling of unworthiness that still nips at me. I often feel imposter syndrome when in professional situations, I feel unqualified while doing podcasts, and overly self-critical when writing blogs.
The familiar voice from my parents or church, “Who do you think you are? No one wants to hear your story. Get over it, deal with it.” Or the toxic positivity that I’ve developed as a survival mechanism, “Everything is fine, just stay positive. It’s all about attitude! Other people have it way worse.” To my parents and former church, I say, “I am a valid and worthy miracle. I have a story, and no, maybe most don’t care or need to hear it, but there are those that do! And maybe they need to learn to tell their own stories too. I am processing and healing in my own time and way, and I am becoming better for it.” To the toxic positivity, I say, “My trauma is my own. It has been painful and difficult, but it has also been my teacher. I don’t always need to be positive. There are times when my tears and pain need to come forward and do their work. For they carry with them the guilt from the deep mines of my heart. They help me release so I can breathe again. The shit I went through is real and my healing is sacred. There are days where I will be angry about it, so I let myself be angry, and I release it, and with it, I release the anxiety of having held it all in for so long. And to Panic, I recognize and acknowledge you. You have shown me that I have not listened to my intuition. You have held my chest so hard to show me that I have not been true to my heart.”
Even as I write this shame tugs at my fingers, but Dear One, if you are still struggling with shame, no matter your story, you are not alone. You may hear people say that you are worthy, just believe! But you know it’s not that easy. It takes time to undo all that has been done to our minds, and bodies, and hearts. Your healing is valid, your experience is valid. You have permission to cry and be angry and hurt, and then let these things lead you to a better place. Let it rain, then let the sky clear and breath the clean air. You are worthy of this process.
Level Up:
If you’re still with me here, reading this, thank you. Allow me to share what has helped me weed the tendrils of shame I was entangled in for so long.
- Forgiveness: I’ve written about this before and I encourage you to read this blog on the steps to help you forgive. I put this one first because it is the most difficult, but also the most powerful. To really take quantum leaps in your healing with shame, you must forgive.
- Gratitude: I’m not talking about the cringy and shallow, “just think positive!” Gratitude can be a slow process. Remember, we are rewriting subconscious programing and doing a whole lot of weeding. Listen to the podcast on gratitude for some nuggets on how to move our minds from dwelling in our pain, to dwelling in our birthright.
- Only look back to learn. It’s so easy to dwell in the past and be a victim of the past. But if we keep looking back, we don’t do a very good job at moving forward. Sometimes we need to look deeply at our past to recognize what is surfacing in our behavior that needs to be processed. But this deep work should be done only occasionally and with help if possible. For the most part, we need to glance in that review mirror to help us move forward and grow. Kind of like defensive driving, peak to see what kind of crazy driver (thought) is going to be coming up to make adjustments to keep you safely moving forward. Check out the Review Mirror podcast for more.
- Help others. Your experience and your story may be the thing to help someone going through a similar situation. Be a listener and a helping hand to reach. Be cautious not to turn help into a complaining-session (although sometimes people need to purge), but be sure to listen, love, and be a gentle guide. Remember healing has to happen in their way and time, and sometimes with professional help. As for you, it is vital that you protect your own energy. Reach out, but don’t lower your own healing vibration when helping another. Help them with gentleness and patience to raise their own vibration.
- Self-care. Do two to three things every day that are just for you. I encourage you to do one thing that triggers your joy, something that sparks creativity, and something in nature. These are three musts for me. They don’t need to take a lot of time. For example, I walk my dog during the sunrise along the trails by my house. I get to breathe in the beauty of nature and quiet. During the day I look for things that trigger joy like celebrating the success of one of my students, or finishing my coffee while it’s still hot! Then I finish the day with something creative like drawing or writing, or doing a little house project.
- Love. Whatever you need to do to raise your vibration to pure love, this is where healing of worthiness and self-love takes place. This could be a focused meditation, it could be writing 10 things that you love about yourself each day, it could be just giving yourself a hug. Whatever works for you! Love begins with you. When you fill yourself with love, it will naturally pour out of you to others.
All my best, Dear One. Thank you for taking the time to read this extra long one today. I wish you all healing and grace.
Heather
