What If Brené Brown Isn’t Right for Everyone?
Exploring why some of us don’t feel shame or guilt. And what we feel instead.
I write a lot about fear. But not about guilt. Not about shame.
Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t feel them. I feel fear instead.
And weirdly enough, a part of me wishes I could feel guilt or shame. Because that would mean there’s enough safety to feel reflective emotions like that. But when your system is wired for survival, fear is the default. There’s no space for “Am I a good person?”, only “Am I safe right now?”
I’m writing this because knowledge is gold. And I want others who are like me to have a lightbulb moment, like I did.
The day I felt guilt for the first time, at 42
It happened last year. Something went wrong with our water tank. My partner, who was at work, called to ask if the owner had fixed it and if there was hot water to take a shower. I said yes. But I was wrong. The tank wasn’t fixed. It wouldn’t be replaced until the next day.
When I received his text saying he was back home and there was no hot water (in an angry tone, and rightfully so) I realized my mistake.. And then… I felt something new. A strange, unfamiliar emotion in my body. It wasn’t fear. It took me a while to name it. Actually, it took almost a year. But a few weeks ago, it finally clicked: that was guilt.
At 42, that was the first time I remember feeling guilt.
It turns out I’m not alone. ChatGPT helped me understand this better with a reflection I’ll never forget:
“When someone grows up around danger, violence, or unpredictability, their emotional system prioritizes survival emotions, mainly fear.
Fear is immediate: ‘How do I stay safe right now?’
Shame and guilt are reflective: ‘What does this say about me?’ or ‘Was that right or wrong?’
If you’re in danger, there’s no time for reflection. You stay alert.
So yes: a LOT of people with trauma histories default to fear, not guilt or shame. It’s more common than people realize, but often overlooked because society talks more about guilt/shame than survival mode.”
When I read this, everything made sense.
I think that moment with the water tank only hit me differently because I was in a safe place when it happened. I was with a friend, laughing, feeling good. Maybe my nervous system felt safe enough to let the guilt in. Maybe my prefrontal cortex was finally online.
My complicated relationship with shame
I’m still not sure I really feel shame the way others describe it either. Not like Brené Brown says we all do. I think some of us genuinely don’t. In her book The Choice, Dr. Edith Eger writes about surviving the Holocaust, and how there was no room for guilt or shame. Only survival.
And I get that.
My trauma wasn’t the same as hers, or maybe yours. But our reactions can be similar. I’ve come to believe it’s a mix: genetics, life events, and whether we had the support to process what happened. I don’t think I had enough “fight” in me – not in my body, and not in my environment. And I don’t think I received enough emotional nurturing to build those pathways.
Back in 2018, after a physical injury and a year off work, I had to find a job again. My best-paid option was nannying. I was 36. I had just lost the career I was proud of. And suddenly, I was “just a nanny.”
It hit me hard. That’s the only time I can recall actually feeling shame.
But even then… it was mixed with fear.
Fear of judgment. Fear of being seen as “less.”
And, to be honest, internalized bias: that being a nanny meant I wasn’t intelligent. A message I absorbed growing up in France.
I hated saying I was a nanny. I wanted to hide. But I didn’t lie – I’d learned the cost of lying during my childhood too 😉
Any other times I should feel shame, I feel fear instead.
So there you go. My story of guilt and shame. Or mostly, the absence of them.
[A bee minding her own business :)]
So maybe Brené Brown’s not entirely right, not all of us feel shame.
And that’s worth talking about.
If any of this resonates with you, if you’ve felt like an outsider when people talk about guilt or shame, I’d love to hear from you.
You’re not alone. And neither am I.
I’m learning that emotions aren’t black or white. They’re not all on the same level. Some of them disappear when there isn’t enough safety.
That’s why awareness is so important: to understand ourselves with compassion, not judgment. And if you’d like to develop that kind of awareness, reach out. That’s what I do through my mindfulness programs.
Here, I could feel ashamed, trying to sell you something at the end of a vulnerable story 😉
But I don’t. I feel fear. I know the difference, and now I know why.
