Living With Shame & Silence

Sometimes it’s easy to recognize when we feel ashamed. We’re usually accompanied by feelings of embarrassment, wrongness, and a strong desire to hide. And that’s the core thing about shame: it makes us pull away from the world, especially when we sense we’d be rejected, abandoned, or humiliated if what we’re battling was brought into the open.

Yet many of us, at some point in our lives, have carried a deep sense of shame that has kept us silent, hidden, and isolated.

For a long time, I understood the definition of shame. I even knew how to recognize it in others. But it wasn’t until I took a deeper look at my own life that I realized I had been living with shame too.

My shame began in childhood. Growing up in a chaotic and abusive environment, I witnessed violence and endured my own. My father was a well-meaning man who struggled with alcoholism and anger. I often found myself at the receiving end of rage outbursts, extreme discipline, and emotional and physical attacks. I lived in a constant state of panic, always wondering when the next shoe would drop.

I also felt too ashamed and afraid to talk about my trauma because I didn’t want to make my family look bad. I stayed silent for years because I didn’t want it to seem like I was blaming or dishonoring my parents. Even though I needed to release my pain, I was terrified of speaking up, afraid of being hurt again, and afraid that others would be angry, disappointed, or judgmental. So I held everything in. More than twenty years shaped by fear and shame.

I was raised under the expectation of perfection. Excellence was the standard. Achievements and awards were the catalyst of being seen and accepted. I endured verbal criticism one moment and praise the next. Those verbal attacks on my identity and personality left me feeling powerless, weak, embarrassed, and angry. I carried the scars of shame and pain, but I hid them behind the polished facade of high achievement, compliance, silence, appearance, and other external markers.

So what did shame look like for me, and how has it shown up throughout my life?

Shame looked like mistaking my isolation and withdrawal for personality traits, when really they were signs of my fear of being seen, known, and hurt.

Shame also looked like staying quiet in conversations, convincing myself I was being humble when in truth I felt unintelligent and afraid of saying something wrong. I hid my voice to avoid the shame of believing my words didn’t matter.

And shame appears every time I feel that twinge in my gut, the one that make my inner spirit shrink and ask questions like:

“What would they think of me?”

“What if I am rejected?”

“What if I get hurt again?”

In those moments, shame rise up and speak to me.

At its core, shame tells us we are bad, damaged, wrong, or insignificant. It buries these beliefs deep within us until we carry them without realizing it. And when we carry shame, we are often accompanied by its closest companion, silence.

Shame tells us we have no value, worth, or place in this world. It urges us to remain quiet, to hide our story, our imperfections, and our truth. It tells us that there’s no place for us to be loved and accepted because we are “too much to handle” or “not good enough to be comforted.”

And survivors of trauma? Many of us have carried shame for so long that it feels like our identity. It tells us that the abuse, mistreatment, and pain was our fault. We may believe that if others only knew of our past, they’d view us as weak and not want to be near or love us. And that’s when we tend to go silent—because silence feels safe.

Not sharing our feelings feels safer than being judged for them. But silence can also imprison us. It can delay our healing and allow traumatic experiences that have already passed to loom over us like a shadow that dims our voice and light. We deserve a better life than this.

I understand how fear grips the heart. I understand how terrifying it is to speak, to be seen, to step out of the quiet places we’ve learned to survive in. When your life has been shaped by abuse, domination, and pain, vulnerability feels dangerous. It is frightening to reclaim your voice.

Yet even if we only inch our way out of our isolation, it is still progress. Healing shame and silence requires us to risk stepping out of what feels safe but has become a cage.

Because you deserve to speak. You deserve to share your story in a safe place. You deserve to shine the beautiful light within you. You deserve a second chance at life, one not shaped by shame, fear, or trauma. You deserve to reclaim your peace and your strength. And my sister, you can.

You can rise again after the pain. You are strong enough to heal, strong enough to be seen, strong enough to speak truth into your world. You can share what happened because the mistreatment you experienced was not your fault. It was never your fault. You do not have to carry guilt and shame for something you endured beyond your control.

I want to acknowledge the silent pain you have carried and the shame that has followed you like a shadow. I am sorry for the moments you felt compelled to hold back your tears, your story, your joy, and your light because you didn’t feel safe in this world.

You never deserved that. And from one trauma survivor to another, I want you to know that shame and silence do not have to be your story anymore.

Right here in this moment, just know there is no pressure to change.

This is a gentle invitation to explore how far you’ve come, how well you’ve survived, and how you are slowly releasing the burdens and barriers that have weighed you down.

Where is your voice?

Where is your spirit?

Where is your story?

Where are you, worthy Kingdom Daughter?

You are right here, lifting your beautiful eyes out into the world with courage. This moment is a beginning. Tomorrow offers you another. One step at a time, you’re being freed from the grips of shame and silence.

Together we heal.

Your sister and friend, Shyteria

🤎

---

If this article blessed you and you believe it may help another kingdom daughter heal, please share it with her.

Shyteria Smith, M.Ed.

Faith & Trauma Recovery Coach

Trauma-Informed Educator

Founder, Kingdom Daughters Healing

Feel free to leave a reflection below offered in love and kindness.

(Comments containing attachments, links, or media are not accepted. All submissions are reviewed before posting.)

If you’re beginning your healing journey, my Faith & Trauma Recovery Guide is available on the homepage. It’s a gentle roadmap to help you start restoring your mind, body, and spirit.