Shame, body image and new religion

Recently, I was talking with a colleague about why it's so hard to fill a group about body image. The topic is relevant, important, there's demand. But people don't come. And we realized — it's about shame.

Shame isn't just "I feel uncomfortable"

Shame is a deep conviction: "I shouldn't exist as I am".

When we feel shame about our bodies, we don't just dislike our weight or the shape of our thighs. We feel that our very existence is a mistake. That we're too much. That we're fundamentally wrong.

And you know what's scariest? Shame isolates. When I feel shame, I'm convinced I'm the only one. That everyone else is normal, and I'm not. So I hide. I don't go to therapy, don't talk to friends, don't seek help.

Because it's shameful.

The Diet Industry as New Asceticism

Our culture has taught us for centuries that the body is something to be tamed, controlled. Body needs are about pleasure. Pleasure from food, touch, closeness. Kant joked that "urination is the only pleasure that brings no remorse".

The modern diet industry has adopted the entire philosophy of religious asceticism:

• If you ate something "forbidden" — you must "atone for your sins" at the gym

• Your body is a battlefield between "willpower" and "weakness"

• Hunger is good, it means you're strong

• Pleasure from food is suspicious, dangerous

And shame works perfectly here. Because when I'm ashamed of my body, I'm willing to do anything to "fix" it.

Shame Isn't Just About Appearance

It's very shameful to be... something. Thin, fat, with those legs, hair, ears. There will always be someone whose beauty you'll never measure up to.

But in the age of social media, it's even more shameful to be a loser: not having "successful success" in your career, not being a perfect mom, not managing everything.

All these narcissistic tricks — the eternal competition with an imaginary ideal in your head — flourish on the soil of shame.

And then food becomes the last place where you can let yourself take something. Even if it's numbing pain, not real pleasure.

Shame Breaks Connection

Here's what's most frightening about shame: it disrupts our ability to connect.

I work with survivors of domestic violence. You know what's hardest? They don't believe they can get help. Because they're ashamed of being someone who needs help.

An abuser isolates the victim from people who could mirror them as good, normal, healthy. And in isolation, without a "good mirror", a person quickly starts believing: "There really is something wrong with me".

The same way an internal abuser works — that voice in your head that constantly criticizes, humiliates, demands the impossible.

The Way Out: From Shame to Compassion

When I feel my body — that it exists, lives, breathes, gets tired and hurts — I become sensitive to its needs.

And then I have less need to "anesthetize" it with sweets, punish it with diets, or exhaust it at the gym.

The body stops being an enemy. It becomes home.

But for this to happen, you need a good mirror — a place where you're seen not as a problem, but as a person. Where you can slow down. Where you can be imperfect. Where your shame meets not judgment, but compassion.

Therapy is an opportunity to find such a mirror. To see your reflection in another person's eyes and hear:

"You're okay. You have the right to exist. You're enough — simply because you are".