Self-Esteem
When Shame Becomes a Voice: Learning to Speak as Myself
by Michel Peen
For a long time, being alive and feeling able to live were different things for me. My childhood included abuse and bullying. In adulthood, fear, isolation, alcohol and hard drugs became part of my story. I describe those experiences in my memoir Finally Living because silence had already taken enough space in my life.
Shame can make a child’s world very small. When somebody repeatedly humiliates you, it can become difficult to separate what happened from who you are. A child needs adults who make that separation clear: being hurt does not make you worthless, and somebody else’s cruelty is not proof that you deserved it.
What hurts is being made responsible for everybody else’s comfort. A child may already be trying to keep trouble out of sight. Telling them to stop being difficult, smile, or forget about it can add another task: hide the pain more successfully. Looking quiet or cheerful is not the same as feeling safe.
I know the habit of making myself small and putting on a mask. That habit did not disappear just because I grew older. For years, I withdrew from the world. Animals felt safer than people. The door could be closed, but the consequences of the past were still inside with me.
What I want for a child in that position is an adult who listens without making disclosure an examination. Let the account arrive in pieces. Do not require perfect words or force eye contact. Ask what the child fears will happen next. Explain any necessary safeguarding steps rather than suddenly taking away all sense of control.
A helpful response also needs action. If a child speaks about harm, adults must consider safety and involve the appropriate people. Encouragement by itself cannot make an unsafe situation safe. Nor should forgiveness or reconciliation be demanded as proof that the child is recovering. The child’s needs deserve attention in their own right.
For me, recovery has involved learning that my past is part of my story without being the whole of it. On July 7, 2025, I stopped drinking alcohol and using hard drugs. That did not erase my childhood or cure every fear. It created room in which I could begin responding to life differently.
I remain precise about that change. I still smoke a joint before bed. I do not present myself as free of every substance, or offer my experience as a treatment plan for somebody else. An honest account matters more to me than a label that makes the story sound tidier.
Writing gives me a way to use my own words. Music, walking, radio and the company of animals also have a place in my everyday life. These ordinary things do not undo what happened. They make room for something besides it. A page can hold a memory without that memory having to occupy the entire day.
When my mother had a serious accident in October 2025, I needed to read documents, follow correspondence, and ask questions. I discovered that I could stand beside her. Later, I began helping other people organise letters and case files. Something that once made me feel powerless became part of how I could be useful.
That usefulness is meaningful to me, but it is not a debt that everybody who has suffered must repay. Nobody has to turn pain into a book or help other people to justify receiving care. Recovering for yourself is enough. I also need breaks; another person’s difficulty cannot always become another file on my desk.
For children, I would begin earlier than I was able to begin for myself. Listen carefully. Make clear that abuse and bullying are not their fault. Act on safety concerns. Keep returning after the first conversation. Give them opportunities to be ordinary children, not only children with a problem.
For adults carrying old shame, my story offers companionship rather than a promise. I still have a past, scars and fears. But they no longer decide everything by themselves. Writing has helped me speak in my own voice. That is part of what I mean when I say I am finally living.
Author biography
Michel Peen is a Dutch author who writes from personal experience of childhood abuse, bullying, isolation and recovery. His books include Finally Living and When No One Sees. He also helps people organise letters and case files. His books are available through his author bookshop at Brave New Books online.
