The Positive Side of Shame and the Toxic Side We Don’t Talk About
When we hear the word shame, we usually think of the worst parts of ourselves the weight that drags us down, the secret that keeps us silent, the feeling that tells us we are unworthy. But shame has two faces. And just like anxiety can be understood as both a passing state and a deeper personality trait, shame also comes in these two forms.
Psychologists call this distinction state versus trait. State anxiety is what you feel right before an exam situational, temporary, and often useful. Trait anxiety is what lives in your system as a predisposition the constant hum of worry shaping your personality. Shame works in the same way.
State shame is the flash of embarrassment that motivates you to adjust. It’s the sting of saying something awkward in front of friends, the heat in your face when you cross a boundary you didn’t mean to. That kind of shame is powerful because it alters your brain chemistry, sparks a surge of cortisol and adrenaline, and tells you: don’t do that again. It motivates growth, keeps you safe, and helps you adapt. John Bradshaw called this “healthy shame” the reminder that we are human, that we all make mistakes, and that mistakes don’t define our worth.
But trait shame toxic shame is another story. Toxic shame fuses with identity. It’s no longer “I did something wrong” but “I am wrong.” It is born from family dynamics where the person struggling is made into the scapegoat, carrying the pain of the whole system. In toxic homes, shame is weaponized. The matriarch or patriarch avoids their own wounds by projecting them outward, and the neurodivergent child, the sensitive child, the truth-telling child becomes “the problem.” This kind of shame doesn’t protect it imprisons. It convinces us that being seen, being ourselves, being authentic, will only lead to rejection.
Brené Brown has spoken at length about the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt says “I did something bad.” Shame says “I am bad.” And when that shame becomes trait-like, when it becomes the lens through which you see yourself, it creates patterns of fear, withdrawal, and self-silencing that can last a lifetime if left unchallenged.
This is where hypnosis and Ericksonian reframing come in. Milton Erickson believed that symptoms were not enemies but signals unconscious attempts to solve problems. From that perspective, even toxic shame is a part of us trying to protect. The shame part says: if you stay small, you won’t be hurt again. If you hide, you won’t be abandoned. Hypnosis creates the space to meet these parts, to uncover their protective intent, and to reframe the story. Instead of “I am bad,” it becomes “I am carrying a pattern that once kept me safe, but no longer serves me.”
Awareness itself changes the dynamic. The moment you recognize, this is state shame motivating me versus this is toxic shame silencing me, you regain choice. And choice is where healing begins. As I’ve always found in my own practice, when you become aware of something inside of you, it becomes so much easier to diffuse it, move around it, transmute it, and choose something else.
Shame isn’t the enemy. It is a messenger. Sometimes it warns us, sometimes it binds us. The work is in learning the difference. State shame can guide us toward growth. Trait shame can be healed, reframed, and integrated. When you stop confusing the two, you begin to see shame for what it really is… a signal, not a sentence.
