Full of Shame - The Fuel to Become Extraordinary

The Invisible Weight of Shame

Have you ever felt a weight so heavy inside you that it dictated every move you made, without you knowing its name? It wasn’t until I turned 30 that I realized shame had been living in my body all along, exiled and forgotten—until it demanded to be seen.

Reading time: 8 Min.

The Drive to be Extraordinary

I always wanted to be extraordinary. I tried to be prettier, more athletic, smarter—constantly chasing different paths to become something great, something that would finally give me peace. I thought that’s what an extroverted young woman should do—keep going until she reaches the top (What top though?).

My life took many different routes because of this drive to be extraordinary, and I saw nothing wrong with the constant urge to optimize myself… until I realized there was shame buried deep inside me. I had been so convinced I was extroverted, confident, “healthy”, and happy that I didn’t realize these were masks I wore to hide the shame I couldn’t feel.

Psychedelics and the Unveiling of Shame

As some of you may know, I have quite a bit of experience with psychedelics. It’s been nearly 10 years since I began my first psychedelic healing journey, and over the years, my self-therapy with psychedelics has evolved. Today, I want to share a profound experience with 150 micrograms of LSD, where I encountered my shame for the second time.

We got comfortable with music, yoga mats to lie on, and lit some candles and the fireplace. After reminding ourselves of our intentions, we were ready to begin. My intention for this trip was to learn how to expand my true self—not the anxious, performing version of me.

The Rose Analogy: From Awe to Disconnect

Tillmann had felt pressure in his body from the very start of the journey. He couldn’t quite get comfortable, constantly shifting positions.

Then, sitting upright in the chair, he looked down at me and began describing in detail what he was sensing in his body. The pressure he was talking about suddenly made sense to him as he connected it to the metaphor of a rose, that is about to bloom.

He said: “You know those time-lapse videos of a flower unfolding? There's that moment of tension just before it bursts into full bloom—that’s how I feel right now.”

A firework display of flowers blossoming in unique shapes and shades. The video beautifully portrays the moment of transformation, as the buds open into their full glory.

His image moved me deeply, and I felt gratitude like a warm blanket wrapping around me. But when he told me: "Lisa, I see you bloom like a rose," the more he spoke positively about me, the more his words felt distant. I began to lose the connection to him and the beautiful image. My heart went cold, my body numb.

Something enormous and tremendously uncomfortable was surfacing.

Surrendering to Shame

Thankfully, just before it hit, I was still able to tell Tillmann what I was experiencing and that, "I’m fine, let me be. I’ll surrender to this now. I can handle it."

Then it all came crashing down. A wave of shame overwhelmed me, and I knew it was the same shame I had felt during a previous LSD trip when I recalled a forgotten sexual trauma. If I hadn’t recognized it as that, I don’t think I would have been able to surrender so gracefully without any resistance.

The Physical Manifestation of Shame

The shame was so deeply rooted in my body that it made me feel sick—so sick and disgusted that I wanted to throw up. I felt pressure in my mouth, my tongue felt thick, and my throat clogged. As I observed the connection between my gut and throat, I realized my vagina was cramping and twisting as if being wrung out.

That’s when I began screaming. Over and over again. The pressure needed to leave my body, and using my voice to scream was my release. Once the energy left me, I felt completely drained.

It took all the life out of me; I shrank smaller and smaller, falling into a black hole, into the infinity of darkness. I lost the ability to move, my consciousness slipping away, and it felt like I might die. In that state, I just ‚was‘. Nobody, no pain, nothing but floating consciousness. I just ‚was‘.

My Heartbeat led me Back to my Dignity

Then, I felt it—my heartbeat. Soft and steady, barely there. Still, nothing else existed except this tiny pulse:

*bumbum bum bumbum bum bumbum*

My attention locked onto this vibration. Tears slowly and silently ran down my face, still in a trance, one with the vibration of my heartbeat.

Suddenly, I realized: this was my heart, my body, my blood flowing through my veins, my lungs pulling air into my chest as I grasp for air during the now heavy crying.

For the first time, I truly felt mySelf.

Fully connected with my body, my heart open, and I finally realized my existence. I had entered the world of dignity—one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

Creating a Safe Space for Deep Healing

Getting here wasn’t easy. Taking LSD alone won’t lead to healing; it requires intention, practice, safety, and the ability to observe without becoming identified with your somatic experiences.

It’s important to connect with your body and observe the process during the trip. While some approach it differently, I’ve found this method serves me best in reaching my emotional exiles.

Having someone you trust, like I had with Tillmann, is incredibly helpful during such an intense process. It's not about romantic intimacy, but rather a deep connection where you can fully let your guard down and feel 100% safe.

Embracing the Process

Today, I can access this exile more easily. I no longer need high doses of LSD to reach these depths—sometimes a pair of headphones and heavy drum music will do the job.

Some people may wonder why I put myself through this. The words I write can’t fully convey the reward of coming out of an exiled emotion and in this case — reclaiming my dignity.

I craved acknowledgment from others all my life but only felt seen in moments like this when I turned towards mySelf. The feeling is so deeply rewarding, far beyond any external validation.

And I’m willing to return to that space as often as needed because now I know I can feel it, process it, and hold myself through it.

It’s like crossing the finish line of a marathon—when people fall to their knees, tears running down their faces in pure relief. That’s how they meet themselves. That’s why they run 42 kilometers. Well, I guess that’s why I do this work.

Conclusion: Transformation of Shame to Dignity

This journey of facing my shame has taught me that the parts of ourselves we often unconsciously exile are the ones that hold the key to our deepest healing.

For years, I chased perfection, thinking that if I could just be extraordinary enough, I’d finally feel worthy. But it was in letting go of that chase, in surrendering to the raw and uncomfortable truths buried within me, that I found my way back to mySelf.

Through the pain, the discomfort, and even the terror of reliving those emotions, I realized that freedom doesn’t come from pushing away the things we’re ashamed of—it comes from embracing them, from integrating them into who we are.

The process of reclaiming my dignity wasn’t easy, and it’s a path I continue to walk. But every time I return to that place, I come out stronger, more grounded, and more at peace with mySelf.

This is my journey. A continuous unfolding, like the rose Tillmann saw in me, moving from tension and pressure into full bloom. And in that bloom, I am learning to hold both my pain and my potential, allowing me to show up in the world with a heart full of dignity.

Watch this remarkable transformation of a dried-out desert plant as it bursts back to life after being exposed to water, turning into a vibrant green fern over several hours. This stunning rebirth mirrors the journey of embracing and healing shame discussed in my blog post. Just as the plant returns to its full potential when nourished, we too can reclaim our dignity and self-worth by watering our deepest wounds, allowing ourselves to grow and thrive.

“This is a space for exploration, for feeling, for raw honesty. I invite you to join me as I move through life’s cycles. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. We grow together, in unique ways.”