Shame: The Hidden Emotion That Holds Power Over Us - A Doorway to the Unexpected

Reaching for the light

The deepest fear we hold is not knowing what lies beyond what we can see. But What if the very thing you’ve been taught to fear could actually set you free?

Ever felt a shame spiral? It’s like that moment on the Tower of Terror roller coaster at Gold Reef City—clicking up, up, up, each thought stacking on the last, the weight of it pressing down. You know the drop is coming, but you can’t stop the climb.

Edging you to the precipice as you face the depths of darkness below you, not knowing what lies at the bottom. Your brain perfectly primed to conjure all sorts of images of what could be there. And then, a vertical drop at what feels like lightning speed, into your worst nightmare – The worst version of yourself.

The world grows dark, indecision becomes your friend, rumination a loyal pet, following you everywhere. Life feels like lead and happiness disappears like handwritten letters. Unfortunately, shame is a cunning force—it thrives in secrecy, keeping you trapped in its grip

My fear…was that I didn’t fit in – never really have, no, worse. I felt like I didn’t belong. And when you feel like you don’t belong, shame isn’t far behind. It creeps in, whispering that it’s not just a moment, but something wrong with you.

I sat across from her, sobbing. Ugly crying – snot en tranne as they say in SA. Just about incomprehensible, attempting to relay a string of stories all starting with…

·       What if… They don’t like me

·       What if… I am not good enough.

·       What if… It turns out to be a mistake

·       What if… (insert your version here)

I couldn’t make eye contact with them. Staring at the floor or into the distance. I was having a visceral reaction to what I was attempting to share. My shame. You see, at this point I already knew what I wanted from my life. A part of me had always known. Yet somewhere along the line and for reasons that don’t matter, I had developed a lot of shame for wanting them.

I am not speaking about anything extraordinary. I was ashamed of wanting a slow, gentle life. A life that was generous with time and money. Where I could afford to pay attention to things that really mattered to me, where I had the freedom to explore what brought me fulfilment and joy.

And in my brain somehow wanting these things made me feel ashamed. There was a part of me…still is if I am totally honest – that attached my worth to struggle, stress, pressure and perfectionism. The proverbial “soldier”. But what I really was, was a gardener, tired of the war.

“It is better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in a war.” ― Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings

This quote is about being prepared. But many of us have become over prepared for the places we don’t fit in. We have prepared ourselves for the war, the struggle, the challenges. But have we prepared ourselves sufficiently for the garden?.

Is a soldier prepared for a garden?

The idea is not to judge the gardener nor the soldier, the garden or the war. but rather that each of us spend time preparing for equally for both and having the agility to move between them.  

But the moment I had spoken the words outloud, about what I really wanted for myself. Once they had finally been shared and witnessed – safely and without judgment – the tension disappeared. It was like the sun began to shine again.

The antidote to shame? Bringing it into the light - by sharing it. What if shame isn’t something to avoid—but something to engage with, explore, and even transform?

It isn’t the end of the road—it’s a threshold - between the life you’ve built and the life you actually want.

The real questions are:

Who gets to decide what happens next? You do. One of the most powerful ways to dismantle shame is by reclaiming the narrative taking the very doubts and fears that have kept you stuck and turning them into a source of clarity and strength. *Too sensitive, too restless, too lost, too soft, too deep — these aren’t failures if you decide they aren’t. They are signs of depth, awareness, and the undeniable pull toward something greater. But no one finds their way alone.

Where are the spaces where you can be fully seen? Find the people who don’t just tell you to be grateful for what you have but actually understand why that isn’t enough. Whether it’s a coach, a mentor, or a rare, honest conversation, these moments become the turning points that shift everything.

And finally, ask yourself: How can you reclaim your power? Take the very things you’ve been ashamed of—your lack of action, your behaviours, your uncertainty, your overthinking, your hunger for meaning—and turn them into your greatest tools.

Shame thrives in silence. But when you name it, claim it, and reshape it, you don’t just step through the doorway—you tear it off its hinges.

Now Throughout history, different cultures, spiritual traditions, and even psychological therapies have developed ways to reclaim and repurpose shame into strength. Some use storytelling, some use roleplay, and some—perhaps the most unexpected—use the dynamics of power and surrender to completely rewrite their relationship with this heavy emotion.

Below I explore a subculture that has mastered the alchemy of shame—turning it from a burden into a source of vitality. It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay. But if you’re someone who has ever wrestled with the weight of shame and wondered if there was another way to release it, then I invite you to read with an open mind.

But what if shame wasn’t something to escape? What if it was something to step into, explore, and even transmute?

We see this play out everywhere—from therapy to leadership coaching, to the arts, even in the quiet corners of our personal lives. There are structured ways for people to confront who they are beneath the armor—to face their fears, rewrite their stories, and reclaim the pieces of themselves they’ve been taught to suppress.

Some of these spaces are conventional. Others? They challenge how we think about transformation entirely.

This story isn’t about BDSM itself. It’s about what it teaches us about shame. About how facing what we most fear can be the key to liberation. How shame dissolves when it is seen—fully, without judgment.

So I ask you—set aside judgment. Read beyond the surface. This is one story about shame, but if you look closely, you might just see your own reflection in it.

A Doorway to the Unexpected

I didn’t know what to expect as I approached the space. I had seen photos, but experience had taught me that no image can truly capture the energy of a place.

It sat on a quiet street lined with oak trees, nestled between a Chinese noodle shop and an advocate’s office. The kind of neighborhood where wealth is understated, where people take their morning espresso in pressed linen and quiet conversation.

I smirked at the thought—what would they think if they knew they had a dungeon for a neighbor?

The bell rang, and a voice crackled through the speaker, sharp, warm, playful.

"Come up, darling!"

Portugal’s first and only professional Dominatrix greeted me with two kisses, one for each cheek. Unexpectedly welcoming. No pretense, no façade—just completely at ease with herself.

She led me through a beautifully curated dressing room, where two other women were preparing for the evening. As I clasped a string of pearls around my neck, she briefed us on the client.

A man in his mid-forties. A foreigner. Fetish? Shame. The more women involved in his humiliation, the better. He wanted to be mocked, ridiculed, confronted with the thing he feared most—being fully seen in his perceived inadequacies.

I found the concept fascinating.

In a world where people run from shame, here was someone asking to step into it completely. To feel it fully. To push past the point of fear until it lost its grip on him.

At first, I wasn’t sure how to navigate it. The energy in the room was thick with anticipation, yet every detail was deliberate, controlled, safe. Mistress E checked in with him constantly, ensuring he was present, willing, and engaged. His boundaries were clear, his consent freely given.

But the real moment of transformation wasn’t in the structure of the scene itself. It was in a single, fleeting moment. We were near the end, the intensity at its peak. He was gagged, unable to move, fully immersed in the experience. Up until this point, I had held back—watching, observing, unsure of my place in it. But then, our eyes met.

Fully. Directly. Without hesitation.

His eyes were alert, wide, present. Not the vacant, dissociated stare I had expected. And in that moment, something clicked. It wasn’t the theatrics of the scene that shifted something in him. It was being fully seen—without fear, without disgust, without looking away. At the debrief afterward, he confirmed it. Of the entire experience, that was the moment that changed everything. That moment where I was no longer afraid of his shame. Where I didn’t flinch. Where he felt witnessed, not judged.

He walked out lighter. Shoulders back. A massive smile on his face. Not because shame had broken him—but because he had moved through it.

The Language of Transformation

That night, I realized something that I had known in theory, but had never seen so clearly:

The way we feel about our emotions is bound by the language we use—and the containers we create for them. In most spaces, we are taught to numb, suppress, or intellectualize shame.

To bury it under logic, achievement, or avoidance.

But what happens when we physically engage with it? When we stop resisting and instead allow ourselves to feel it fully?

This kind of roleplay—while unconventional—isn’t so different from drama therapy, exposure therapy, or even leadership embodiment exercises. All of them create structured environments where we can safely challenge our beliefs, step into unfamiliar roles, and move through what holds us back. And in all of them, the principle remains the same:

Shame loses its power when it is brought into the light.

This story isn’t just about one man’s experience.

It’s about all of us.

We all carry shame. We all fear being seen in the parts of ourselves we have hidden away.

But what if the very thing we’ve been running from holds the key to our liberation?

What would happen if you stopped avoiding it? What if, instead of running, you turned toward it?

What if the thing you fear being seen in the most… is the exact thing that could set you free?

Transformation begins when we stop fearing our own darkness, our shadows.