Brené Brown inner voices is not a phrase Brown uses as a formal framework, but her work offers a powerful way to understand the voices that tell us we are not enough, should stay quiet, cannot risk failure, or need to protect ourselves from being seen. Her work on shame, the stories we tell ourselves, perfectionism, armor, vulnerability, belonging, courage, and Rising Strong helps illuminate how those voices form and why they hold power. Talent Whisperers brings those ideas together through the lens of Saboteurs and Allies, then asks how curiosity, courage, Learned Confidence, and Learned Resilience might help us move beyond them.

Brown does not describe all of these patterns as inner voices, and this exploration does not suggest that she does. Rather, her work gives us several ways to understand what those voices may be doing. Shame can tell us something is wrong with who we are. Perfectionism can insist that exposure is dangerous unless we perform flawlessly. Armor can protect us from vulnerability. The stories we tell ourselves can fill uncertainty with conclusions that feel true before we know whether they are.

Talent Whisperers approaches these patterns as possible Saboteur voices, but not necessarily as enemies to defeat. Some may be worth listening to differently. A voice that now limits us may once have developed to protect us from rejection, embarrassment, failure, or the loss of belonging. What sounds like sabotage today may have begun as an attempt to keep us safe.

Hypothesis

That possibility leads to a hypothesis we want to hold lightly:

What if some inner voices that act like Saboteurs are protective stories that have become psychological armor? And what if growth comes not from silencing those voices, but from becoming curious about them, testing the stories they tell, and gradually learning how much vulnerability we can tolerate without becoming overwhelmed?

Brown helps us understand what happens within us when we stumble, feel exposed, or fear we are not enough. Learned Resilience explores how repeatedly engaging with such challenges, learning from them, and recovering can expand what we are capable of facing next.

This is also where Learned Confidence may play an important role. Courage may create the first small opening in the armor. A right-sized Reach creates experience. Reflection turns experience into learning. Learned Confidence can grow as we accumulate evidence that we can act, adapt, recover, and try again. Learned Resilience develops as those cycles gradually expand what we are capable of facing.

Seen this way, Daring Greatly need not begin greatly.

The first act of daring may be very small. It only needs to reach far enough beyond what feels safe to create real learning and build confidence without overwhelming us. One Reach can make another possible. An arena that once felt enormous can become familiar ground, while another, larger arena begins to come within reach.

Perhaps courage is not always about throwing away our armor. Sometimes it may be about learning when we are safe enough to emerge from it, how far to Reach, and which arena we are ready to enter next.

The sections that follow explore Brown’s work on shame, stories, armor, vulnerability, courage, and rising after failure. We will then place those ideas beside Inner Voices, THRIVE, Learned Confidence, and Learned Resilience. The purpose is not to force Brown’s work into a Talent Whisperers framework. It is to ask what becomes visible when these ideas are placed beside one another, and what they might teach us about the voices that hold us back and those that help us move forward.


Table of Contents

  1. The Stories We Tell Ourselves
  2. Where Do Those Inner Voices Come From?
  3. Shame: When the Story Becomes Identity
  4. When Stories Become Armor
  5. The Arena Outside and the Arena Within
  6. Daring, But Not Necessarily Greatly at First
  7. The Tale of the Turtle Who Dared
  8. Courage, Learned Confidence, and the First Reach
  9. THRIVE: Where the Story Meets Reality
  10. Rising Strong and the Learning Loop
  11. Learned Resilience: Expanding the Arena
  12. What Daring Greatly May Look Like Over Time
  13. Questions to Carry Into Your Own Arena
  14. See Also
  15. References

1. The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Brené Brown’s Rising Strong offers a particularly useful way to examine the stories we tell ourselves when emotion meets incomplete information. Something happens, we feel its impact, and before all the facts are available, our minds begin filling the gaps. Seen through the Talent Whisperers lens, this is one place inner voices can begin shaping experience: not merely by commenting on what happened, but by helping construct the story of what it means.

A look crosses someone’s face. A message goes unanswered. A meeting ends differently than expected. We fail at something that mattered. Someone says something ambiguous enough to leave room for interpretation. The event gives us pieces. Our minds begin assembling a story.

When Emotion Meets Missing Information

In Rising Strong, Brown begins not with certainty, but with the moments when we get emotionally hooked. Something has happened. We feel it before we fully understand it. Her first move is the Reckoning: recognize the emotion and become curious about what is happening. Then comes the Rumble with the story.

Brown gives the first story we construct a deliberately inelegant name: the “shitty first draft,” or SFD. Her Dare to Lead materials describe it as the first story we make up, often filled with fears, insecurities, worst-case scenarios, assumptions, and information we have supplied ourselves. That does not make the first story foolish. It may contain something important. It may also contain confabulation, missing context, or conclusions that arrived before the evidence.

Brown’s familiar phrase “the story I’m making up…” adds another subtle move. “They don’t respect me” sounds like a statement of fact. “The story I’m making up is that they don’t respect me” names the interpretation as an interpretation. The facts have not changed. Our relationship to the story has. That small shift may create just enough distance for curiosity to enter before certainty hardens around what we think happened.

Imagine sending work that matters deeply to someone whose judgment matters to us. Hours pass without a response. The facts may be simple: we sent something, and no reply has arrived. Yet the story may already be much larger: “They hated it.” “I disappointed them.” “I should never have sent it.” “They finally realized I’m not as capable as they thought.”

Nothing in the silence itself establishes any of those conclusions. Yet once the story begins, we may start responding to it as though the missing information has already been supplied.

When a Story Starts Playing Like a Familiar Song

This is where Brown’s work and the Talent Whisperers lens begin to illuminate one another. Our Inner Jukebox distinguishes between the button that triggers a response, the learned pattern that begins playing, and the lyrics or meaning we hear within that pattern. It also describes “autoplay”: reacting to a familiar story before consciously examining whether it fits what is happening now. Brown’s SFD gives us another way to notice those lyrics.

The inner voice may not always sound like a single sentence such as “You’re not good enough.” Sometimes it arrives as an entire explanation: “They are pulling away.” “I’m about to be exposed.” “This always happens to me.” “I know where this is going.”

The story may contain a memory, an interpretation, a forecast, and a judgment at the same time. Consider: “They finally realized I’m not as capable as they thought.”

That single story can contain several layers. We may be interpreting the silence as disapproval. We may be imagining another person’s judgment. We may be turning that imagined judgment into an identity claim about our capability. We may also be forecasting what comes next: lost trust, lost opportunity, rejection, or exposure.

Past experience, present ambiguity, identity, and anticipated future can become compressed into one apparently obvious conclusion. By the time we hear the words consciously, our body may already be responding to the world the story predicts.

Seen this way, an inner voice is not merely commentary running alongside experience. It may participate in constructing what the experience seems to mean. That makes another distinction important: a story can feel familiar, coherent, and emotionally convincing without yet being established as true.

Rumbling With the Story, Not Erasing It

Brown does not suggest replacing an uncomfortable story with a more flattering one. The Rumble asks us to become curious about the story we have made up. What do we actually know? What have we assumed? What more do we need to understand? Her later Dare to Lead materials make this especially concrete by asking people to identify the “conspiracies and confabulations” within their SFD and investigate what is missing.

That posture matters for Saboteurs and Allies. A fearful voice may be noticing something real. A confident voice may be overlooking something important. The task is not to decide that uncomfortable stories are Saboteurs and reassuring stories are Allies. Nor does curiosity require assuming that the first story is wrong. The first story may prove largely correct.

The deeper shift is from automatic certainty to inquiry. We can take the story seriously without treating it as settled fact. We can ask what supports it, what complicates it, what remains unknown, and what other interpretations the same evidence might permit. The deeper question is whether we can hear the story without automatically granting it authority.

Our Inner Jukebox asks a related question: are these lyrics true, or merely familiar? Curiosity does not smash the record. It creates enough space to hear another verse.

Brown’s language gives us a practice for examining the story. The Talent Whisperers lens raises another question about why this particular story became so available in the first place. Why does one person read silence as ordinary delay, while another hears rejection? Why does criticism become useful information for one person and confirmation of inadequacy for another? Why do some stories seem to know their lines before the present moment has finished unfolding?

To explore that, we have to look beyond the story itself and ask where some of its voices, expectations, and meanings may have come from.


2. Where Do Those Inner Voices Come From?

Brené Brown’s work on shame, worthiness, belonging, and social expectations helps us explore where some inner voices may begin. Families, cultures, communities, and relationships can teach us what seems acceptable, admirable, embarrassing, risky, lovable, or disappointing. Over time, some of those messages may become so familiar that they no longer sound external.

This helps explain why one person may read silence as ordinary delay while another hears rejection. Our stories do not necessarily begin with an empty page. We bring expectations, memories, definitions of success, assumptions about belonging, and ideas about what people like us should be. Some of those meanings were learned long before the present moment.

The Voices Around Us Before They Become Voices Within Us

Brown’s early shame research places social expectations near the center of the problem. In I Thought It Was Just Me, she describes a continual stream of messages about who, what, and how we are supposed to be. Those expectations can teach us to experience imperfection not simply as imperfection, but as inadequacy.

A child does not need someone literally saying, “You are only worthy when you succeed,” to begin learning conditions around approval. Expectations can arrive through praise, disappointment, comparison, silence, teasing, family stories, cultural ideals, and what seems to earn acceptance. Brown’s Daring Greatly materials make this transmission unusually explicit. She asks parents to consider the “worthiness prerequisites” they may knowingly or unknowingly hand down to their children.

That is a striking phrase: worthiness can acquire prerequisites. “I will belong when I achieve enough.” “I will be lovable if I am easy enough.” “I will be respected if I never appear weak.” “I will be safe if I do not disappoint anyone.”

Brown is describing shame and worthiness. Talent Whisperers asks an adjacent question: what happens when those conditions are repeated often enough that they begin speaking from within?

Inner Voice Origins explores that question more directly. It considers how relationships, expectations, criticism, belonging, social experiences, and repeated messages can contribute to voices that persist after the original circumstances change. A voice that once sounded like “They expect more from me” may eventually sound like “I should be more.” “What will they think?” can become “I shouldn’t do this.” An expectation no longer needs an external speaker once we have learned to repeat it ourselves.

When Belonging Teaches Us What Is Safe to Be

This becomes more complicated when belonging is involved. Brown makes a careful distinction between belonging and fitting in. Fitting in requires assessing what a group expects and adapting ourselves to gain acceptance. Belonging, in her formulation, does not require changing who we are.

That distinction gives us another way to think about the origins of inner voices. Long before we can fully articulate what authenticity, acceptance, or belonging mean to us, we can be learning from experience what appears to bring connection and what appears to threaten it. Adults continue learning those lessons too.

What receives warmth? What brings embarrassment? What creates conflict? What makes someone proud of us? What seems to make us “too much,” “not enough,” difficult, selfish, weak, strange, needy, arrogant, or disappointing?

Brown offers a vivid example from her own family. She has described “high maintenance” as a powerful shame trigger growing up. Being easy, flexible, and undemanding carried social value. Later, an adult request that implied she might “require something special” activated that old shame territory almost immediately. The present circumstance was new. The meaning attached to it was not.

That example helps illuminate something Our Inner Jukebox explores through another metaphor. A present-day button may start a much older song. We may know its lyrics so well that we experience them as recognition rather than interpretation.

This does not mean every learned rule was imposed maliciously. A family rule may once have helped maintain harmony. A cultural expectation may have offered belonging. A parent’s caution may have grown from fear for a child’s safety. A demand for excellence may have carried genuine belief in the child’s ability. Yet a message can begin as protection, aspiration, love, or belonging and still become constraining when carried into another context.

Seen through the Talent Whisperers lens, perhaps one reason some inner voices feel so authoritative is that they were once connected to something genuinely important: attachment, safety, approval, identity, or belonging.

The Same World Can Teach More Than One Voice

There is another complication worth preserving. If formative relationships can contribute to Saboteur voices, they can also contribute to Allies. Inner Voice Origins explores this possibility directly: the same environment that contributes to doubt or pressure may also help form quieter voices of self-belief.

A demanding teacher may leave behind fear of disappointing authority while also being the first person who saw a capability we could not yet see. A parent’s rising expectations may be experienced as “never good enough,” while another part of the same relationship communicates, “I believe there is more in you.” A mentor’s voice may later become available when our own confidence falters: “You can figure this out.” “You belong here.” “You’ve done hard things before.” “Stay curious.”

The origin of an inner voice may therefore be relational without being reducible to blame. Tracing a voice backward is not necessarily an exercise in finding who damaged us. It can be an inquiry into what the voice learned, what it was trying to preserve, and whether the conditions that gave it meaning still apply.

That also keeps us from making another premature classification. Inherited does not mean false. Uncomfortable does not mean Saboteur. Encouraging does not automatically mean Ally. A warning learned long ago may still contain wisdom. A reassuring family belief may also constrain us. Origins provide context, not a verdict.

Perhaps a more useful question is not simply, “Whose voice is this?” It may be: “What did this voice learn about what I needed to be, do, avoid, or become in order to remain safe, valued, or connected?”

That question brings us back to Brown. A social expectation may begin outside us. Repetition can make it familiar. Belonging can give it weight. Experience can reinforce it. Eventually, the grammar may change.

“They expect more from me” becomes “I should be more.” “I disappointed them” becomes “I am disappointing.” “I failed at something” becomes “I am a failure.”

At that point, the story is no longer only carrying an expectation about behavior. It is beginning to make a claim about identity. That is where Brown’s deeper work on shame becomes especially important.


3. Shame: When the Story Becomes Identity

Brown draws an important distinction at precisely this boundary. Guilt focuses on behavior: I did something bad. Shame turns the focus toward the self: I am bad. In Brown’s work, shame reaches into our sense of worthiness, threatening our belief that we deserve love, belonging, and connection.

Her exploration of “never enough” helps make the approach to that boundary visible. Sometimes “not enough” describes a real circumstance. We may not have prepared enough, practiced enough, achieved enough, or understood enough. Brown’s broader scarcity work also examines the persistent sense that we are never successful enough, productive enough, attractive enough, accomplished enough, or otherwise enough.

Scarcity and shame are related, but they are not the same. The crucial shift comes when “not enough” stops describing what we have, did, or achieved and begins defining who we believe we are.

“I wasn’t prepared enough” becomes “I’m incompetent.”

“I made a mistake” becomes “I’m a failure.”

“Someone rejected me” becomes “I’m unlovable.”

Seen through the Talent Whisperers lens, this is where an inner message can become an identity-level authority. The voice is no longer simply describing an experience. It is telling us what that experience proves about us.

That distinction does not require avoiding accountability. Separating behavior from identity can leave more room to examine what happened, repair harm, learn, and choose differently. “I did something I regret” gives us somewhere to go. “I am unworthy” can make the entire self seem like the problem.

The stakes rise further when we fear that others may see the same flaw we now believe exists within us. A mistake is no longer merely something others might notice. It can feel like exposure of who we really are.

When being seen begins to feel dangerous, protecting ourselves from exposure can begin to feel necessary.



7. The Tale of the Turtle Who Dared

Baby sea turtle leaving its nest and crossing a sunlit beach toward the Pacific, symbolizing courage, Learned Confidence, and Learned Resilience.
The Tale of the Turtle Who Dared: from eggshell to sand, beach, surf, and ocean, each larger arena begins with a first small Reach.

Before there was an ocean, there was an egg. Before there was an arena, there was a shell. Inside it, a tiny turtle developed in darkness, protected by something it would eventually have to break through. The shell was not its enemy. It had kept the turtle alive. But a protection that once made growth possible could not remain its whole world.

So the turtle dared. Not greatly. Not yet.

It made the smallest Reach available to it. It broke through the eggshell and entered a slightly larger arena. For a while, that arena was still beneath the sand. The turtle had left one form of protection without becoming fully exposed. It pushed upward through grains that still sheltered it from the open world above.

Then it dared again.

This time, it emerged onto the beach. The arena had grown. There was sunlight now, open sky, distance, heat, movement, and perhaps danger. The turtle did not charge blindly forward. It paused, oriented itself, and then began to move. A few inches at first, then more. Each movement carried it farther from the safety of the nest and closer to something it had never experienced.

Eventually, it reached the surf. Another threshold. The first wave might push it backward. The next might tumble it sideways. What had looked like the destination from the beach revealed itself as only another beginning.

Still, the turtle moved forward.

Eventually, this creature that had begun its journey protected inside an egg entered the vast Pacific Ocean. That might look like Daring Greatly. But the journey did not begin greatly. It began with a tiny act of emergence.

Eggshell. Sand. Beach. Surf. Ocean.

Each arena was larger than the one before it. Each Reach demanded a little more exposure. Each successful passage created new experience for what came next. And through all of it, the turtle kept its shell.

Perhaps that matters.

Courage may not require us to cast aside every form of protection. Learned Resilience may be less about becoming defenseless than learning when we are ready to emerge, how far to Reach, and which arena we are prepared to enter next.

The first act of daring may not be great in size. It only needs to reach far enough beyond what feels safe to create real learning and build confidence without overwhelming us. Then we can Reach again, a little farther, into a larger arena, until one day what once looked impossibly vast becomes the place we know how to swim.


Brené Brown’s research on shame offers a powerful lens for understanding the inner saboteur. Brown explains that shame thrives on silence, secrecy, and judgment. It convinces us we’re not enough—that our failures define us and that vulnerability is weakness. When external criticism mirrors our internal doubts, our saboteurs amplify the message, reinforcing feelings of inadequacy.

Brown helps us understand what happens within us when we stumble, feel exposed, or fear we are not enough. Learned Resilience explores how repeatedly engaging with such challenges, learning from them, and recovering can expand what we are capable of facing next.

Seen together, they raise a further possibility: some of the armor that once helped us survive may later keep us from the vulnerable experiences through which resilience grows.

What if some of the inner voices we experience as saboteurs are forms of psychological armor, stories learned to protect us from shame, rejection, failure, or vulnerability? And what if resilience grows not by silencing those voices, but by becoming curious about the stories they tell, testing whether those stories still serve us, and gradually developing the capacity to remain vulnerable without being overwhelmed?

Brené Brown’s work suggests that when fear, shame, or uncertainty arise, we often protect ourselves with armor and stories about what those experiences mean. Talent Whisperers explores those stories as inner voices. Learned Resilience adds another dimension: by becoming curious about those voices, testing their stories, engaging vulnerability in recoverable steps, reflecting on what happens, and returning to the arena, we may gradually expand our capacity to face what once required armor.

Questions we might ask ourselves could include:

  • What does Brené Brown say about the stories we tell ourselves?
  • What does Brené Brown mean by armor?
  • Why does Brené Brown say we need to take off our armor?
  • What is the relationship between Brené Brown’s work and resilience?
  • How do shame and vulnerability affect resilience?
  • Can self-protection keep us from becoming resilient?
  • Why do we make up negative stories about ourselves?
  • How do inner voices relate to Brené Brown’s work on shame?
  • Is the inner critic a form of self-protection?
  • Can vulnerability make us more resilient?
  • What is the connection between Rising Strong and resilience?
  • How do you change the story you are telling yourself?

Shame as a Tool of the Inner Saboteur

Brown distinguishes between shame and guilt, noting that guilt is about what we’ve done, whereas shame is about who we are. Shame is the voice that tells us we are fundamentally unworthy, defective, or beyond redemption. In many ways, shame is the ultimate inner saboteur, acting as a reinforcing mechanism for self-doubt, fear, and avoidance.

Brown describes shame as thriving in three conditions:

  • Silence – When shame is not spoken about, it festers and grows.
  • Secrecy – When we hide our struggles, our saboteurs use them against us.
  • Judgment – When we internalize external criticism, we become our own worst enemies.

Shame-based saboteurs tell us:

  • “You’ll never be good enough.”
  • “Who do you think you are?”
  • “If they knew the real you, they’d reject you.”

The Man in the Arena: Facing the Inner Critic

Brown often references Theodore Roosevelt’s Man in the Arena speech, which celebrates those who step into the arena, take risks, and dare greatly. She argues that saboteurs act like external critics—judging from the sidelines, pointing out flaws, and discouraging us from showing up fully in our lives.

The inner critic, or shame-based saboteur, works by weaponizing past failures, amplifying self-doubt, and exaggerating the risks of vulnerability. Brown’s antidote is learning to recognize these voices and name them for what they are: fear-based self-protection rather than truth.

Transforming Saboteurs into Allies and Rewriting Your Inner Dialogue: Lessons from Brené Brown

Brown’s work suggests that the antidote to shame-based saboteurs is self-compassion, vulnerability, and connection. She emphasizes that shame cannot survive being spoken—naming it weakens its hold.

Her research aligns with the idea that inner allies can be cultivated to replace self-sabotaging voices. The practices she suggests include:

  • Recognizing shame triggers – Identify when and where saboteurs show up.
  • Speaking shame aloud – Confide in trusted allies to remove shame’s power.
  • Practicing self-compassion – Replace self-judgment with kindness and curiosity.
  • Rewriting internal narratives – Challenge negative self-talk with evidence-based truths.

Brené Brown’s Key Works and Their Connection to Inner Voices

The Gifts of Imperfection

Brown discusses the importance of embracing vulnerability and letting go of perfectionism. She provides insights into cultivating self-compassion and silencing the inner critic that often drives feelings of inadequacy.

Daring Greatly

This book explores how the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. Brown addresses the internal narratives that hold us back and emphasizes the power of vulnerability in overcoming them.

Rising Strong

This work focuses on the process of recovering from failure and the internal dialogues that accompany it. Brown offers guidance on how to reckon with emotions and rewrite the stories we tell ourselves to foster resilience.

The Power of Vulnerability (TED Talk)

Brown discusses the significance of vulnerability and how confronting our inner critic can lead to a more wholehearted life.

Unlocking Us (Podcast)

Through various episodes, Brown delves into topics related to self-talk, shame, and personal growth, providing practical advice on managing inner voices.

A Deep Dive into Brené Brown’s Work on Shame and Inner Critics

The Science Behind Shame and Self-Sabotage

Brown’s research is rooted in social work and psychology, particularly the study of emotional resilience and the nervous system’s response to shame. When the brain perceives social rejection or failure, the amygdala triggers a fear response, reinforcing avoidance behaviors and negative self-talk.

  • Neuroscience shows that shame activates the same brain regions as physical pain, which is why it feels overwhelming and paralyzing.
  • The prefrontal cortex, responsible for reasoning, can override shame-based reactions when we introduce self-compassion and logical counter-narratives.
The Role of Vulnerability in Disarming Saboteurs

Brown argues that vulnerability is not weakness, but courage. The willingness to be seen, even with imperfections, is a direct challenge to shame-based saboteurs.

  • Vulnerability creates space for connection and belonging, neutralizing the isolating effect of shame.
  • Brown’s research shows that people who develop strong inner allies—those who practice self-kindness and acknowledge their worth—are more resilient to external criticism.
How to Build Shame Resilience

Brown identifies four steps to shame resilience, which align with the practice of developing inner allies:

  1. Recognize shame – Notice when saboteurs are activated.
  2. Reality check stories – Question whether the self-criticism is based on fact or fear.
  3. Reach out – Speak with trusted allies who provide perspective and validation.
  4. Practice self-compassion – Replace self-judgment with understanding and care.

Conclusion: Integrating Brené Brown’s Work with Saboteurs and Allies

Brené Brown’s work on shame and vulnerability provides a powerful framework for addressing inner saboteurs. By naming shame, cultivating vulnerability, and fostering connection, we create space for inner allies to emerge. Her research affirms that self-compassion, courage, and emotional resilience are essential tools for transforming the internal dialogue that holds us back.

Recognizing that shame-based saboteurs are fear-driven, we can learn to approach them with curiosity rather than judgment, building a foundation for greater self-acceptance and personal growth.



Bibliography and References – Brené Brown: Shame, Saboteurs, and Allies

To deepen your understanding of this specific topic, explore the following resources:

Books by Brené Brown
Articles and Online Resources
Research and Psychological Perspectives on Shame and Vulnerability

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

I would initially organize Brown’s recurring narratives something like this:

The story we may tell ourselvesBrown territory underneath it
I’m not enough.Shame, worthiness, armor
I’m unlovable.Lovability and shame
Something is wrong with me.Shame as identity rather than behavior
I don’t belong here.Belonging, shame, vulnerability
If they really knew me, they would think less of me.Exposure, vulnerability, shame
If I show weakness, people will use it against me.Armoring against vulnerability
I have to prove my worth.Worthiness tied to achievement or approval
If I fail, it means I am a failure.Shame, perfectionism, identity
If I cannot do this well, I should not do it.Perfectionism and creativity scars
Their criticism proves what I already feared about myself.Shame triggers and the internalization of judgment
Their reaction tells me what they think of me.Story-making when facts are incomplete
I know why they did that.Confabulation and filling gaps in the story
This is happening because of me.Personalization and premature story-making
I need to protect myself before someone hurts me.Armor
If I stay in control, I can avoid uncertainty.Control as armor
If I know the answer, I cannot be exposed as inadequate.“Knower” armor
It is safer to blame than to examine my part.Shame/blame versus accountability
Their shortcomings justify my behavior.Defensive armoring
Maybe I’m actually better than they are.Defensive superiority as protection
I shouldn’t need anyone.Vulnerability myth of going it alone
I must earn belonging rather than risk being myself.Fitting in versus belonging

Shame Whispers Courage Speaks- Brenee Browns Guide to Inner Voices Small

Brene Brown Inner Voices: Shame vs. Worthiness

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