Shame has a sneaky way of settling into a person’s core.
It’s that voice that whispers, “You’re not enough.” And for many, that voice doesn’t come out of nowhere. It starts early—sometimes in the most innocuous moments of childhood.
Psychologists agree that shame begins to take root when a child internalises feelings of inadequacy or rejection. It’s not just the big moments of humiliation that shape them—it’s the tiny, everyday interactions that chip away at their sense of self-worth. And here’s the kicker: many of us don’t even realise we’re planting those seeds.
The subtle mechanics can begin with this: a toddler spills a cup of juice during breakfast. You, the tired parent running on four hours of sleep, sigh heavily and mutter, “Why can’t you just be more careful?” The toddler doesn’t think, “Oh, I need to work on my fine motor skills.” Instead, they will likely feel a pang of rejection–and think, “Something is wrong with me.”
Shame isn’t about what a child does. It’s about how they begin to see themselves. Repeated instances of scolding, shaming language, or disproportionate punishment lead kids to associate mistakes with unworthiness. Unlike guilt, which says, “I did something wrong,” shame says, “I am wrong.”
And it’s not just the outright criticism. Over-praising can have a similarly unfavourable effect, too. When children learn that love and approval are conditional—dependent on straight As, gold stars, or perfectly behaved manners—they start to believe that their worth is tied to achievement. One misstep, and that fragile house of cards crumbles.
The development of shame is intricately tied to a child’s attachment to their caregivers. Attachment theory can play a role here; secure attachment, which is formed when a child feels consistently supported and valued, builds resilience against shame. However, when attachment is disrupted—whether through inconsistent parenting, neglect, or punitive discipline—children may turn inward, interpreting these disruptions as personal failings. This is particularly true in moments of vulnerability. If a child seeks comfort after a mistake and is met with rejection or ridicule, they may internalise the belief that their flaws make them unworthy of love and support.
This phenomenon, as noted by Dr Brené Brown, leads to what she calls a “shame spiral”—a cyclical process where feelings of inadequacy fuel behaviours aimed at avoiding further shame, like withdrawal or perfectionism. The antidote, according to experts, lies in creating environments where mistakes are normalised and met with compassion. By creating a culture of acceptance, we can prevent shame from taking hold and instead encourage the healthy development of guilt, which focuses on the action, not the self. This subtle shift can be transformative, both for the child and their long-term mental health.
As parents, it’s a precarious dance on this tightrope. We want our kids to grow up responsible, kind, and self-aware, but sometimes, in our quest to guide them, we fall into the trap of shame-based discipline. A sharp word, a disappointed look—it’s easy to slip into these habits when you’re stressed or overwhelmed.
The good news is this: awareness is everything. Ask yourself: “Am I correcting behaviour, or am I criticising who they are?”
Here’s where things get beautifully liberating: letting go of shame as a tool doesn’t mean letting go of ‘discipline.’ It means reframing it. And even changing our relationship with it. Set boundaries, yes, but ground them in empathy. Teach accountability, but pair it with understanding.
At Imagine If, we see shame for what it is: a barrier to growth and learning. Shame doesn’t motivate; it paralyses. It doesn’t build character; it corrodes confidence. This is why we approach interactions with children through a lens of positive regard–this doesn’t mean endless, empty compliments, but rather, an approach that allows us to hold their flaws with compassion.
To us, kids are inherently whole. Mistakes aren’t flaws in their (or our) character but opportunities to learn. If a child knocks over a tower of blocks or blurts out an unkind word, we don’t swoop in with lectures or labels. Instead, we focus on connection. Because when children feel safe—when they know their worth isn’t up for debate—they’re free to explore, mess up, and try again.
We know that children are wired for connection. They want to belong and be valued, and when they feel seen and loved—especially in their messiest moments—they grow into adults who can offer that same grace to others.
Shame has no place in this process. It might temporarily control behaviour, but it stunts growth in the long run. Here, we champion the slow, steady work of building confidence and resilience without resorting to shame.
Here’s something worth pondering not just for our kids’ sakes, but even our own: “Am I adding to their inner voice of compassion or their inner critic?” Because that voice will stick with them long after the juice they’ve spilt is cleaned up. So, let’s make it one they can live with—and thrive alongside.