I wonder, have you heard the story of Narcissus? It’s an old tale of a young man of unfathomable attractiveness.

Ovid, Metamorphoses 406, 412-425
Picture a clear, unmuddied pool of silvery, shimmering water. …
Here Narcissus arrived, all hot and exhausted from hunting,
and sank to the ground. The place looked pleasant, and here was a spring!
Thirsty for water, he started to drink, but soon grew thirsty
for something else. His being was suddenly overwhelmed
by a vision of beauty. He fell in love with an empty hope,
a shadow mistaken for substance. He gazed at himself in amazement,
limbs and expression as still as a statue of Párian marble.
Stretched on the grass, he saw twin stars, his own two eyes,
rippling curls like the locks of a god, Apollo or Bacchus,
cheeks as smooth as silk, an ivory neck and a glorious
face with a mixture of blushing red and a creamy whiteness.
All that his lovers adored he worshipped in self-adoration.
Blindly rapt with desire for himself, he was votary and idol,
suitor and sweetheart, taper and fire—at one and the same time.¹

Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection—and it was his undoing. Driven mad by desire, he refused to leave the pool of water. He stopped caring about food and slowly starved to death. This Greek myth is the origin of the term narcissism. The idea is that when you are so self-obsessed that you don’t care about how your actions affect others, you’re a narcissist.

However, today many psychologists have moved away from seeing narcissism as something that people have or not, instead preferring the idea of a spectrum from low to high. Dr. Jim Wilder, a clinical psychologist, said, “A narcissist is someone who is unable to metabolize shame in a relational way.”²

That definition really got my attention. What does it mean to “metabolize shame”? What is shame? Are there different kinds of shame? How can I metabolize shame in a relational way?

Metabolizing shame means accepting that you were wrong. Perhaps an example will help show how this works in real life.

Joshua: “Why didn’t you call me back? I called you; I texted you; and I emailed you. But you never responded!”

Sean: “You don’t respond either. I call you and you NEVER answer. Don’t give me this. You’re accusing me of what you do.”

In this scenario I refused to metabolize shame. Instead, I counterattacked Joshua. He brought an accusation against me: “Why didn’t you call me back?” Rather than accepting guilt, I attacked him.

Joshua: “I know I’m not always as responsive as I should be, but, right now, we’re talking about you. I had an emergency and you weren’t there for me.”

Sean: “I was doing stuff with my kids. I didn’t hear my phone. If my wife or their grandfather were more involved, I would have more time to check my phone for missed calls.”

Joshua calmy reasserted his criticism. I, however, changed tactics. Rather than attacking him back, I shifted the blame to others. I blamed my kids for taking my time, my phone for not getting my attention, and my wife and father for not helping more.

Joshua: “I see you were busy at 3:00 pm when I called. What about 4:00 pm when I texted? What about 5:00 pm when I emailed? What about in the morning when I called again? Didn’t you see my messages on your phone? Why didn’t you get back to me after you weren’t busy anymore?”

Sean: “Who do you think you are, accusing me? I have poured myself out for God and his people for twenty years of my life and here you come—the new guy—and you just waltz in here and start accusing me?”

In this part of the conversation, Joshua continued to calmly hold me responsible for my wrongdoing. He defeated my blame shifting by pointing out that I had plenty of opportunities to get back to him. Rather than accepting any guilt, I pulled a “power move.” Perhaps you’ve seen this sort of thing before. Rather than take responsibility or make excuses, you just question the other person’s right to criticize something you’ve done. It’s an effective, though destructive, way of avoiding shame. Also, if I succeed in provoking Joshua into fighting about that, I won’t have to face his initial criticism.

Joshua: “Sean, I mean no disrespect. I admire your stand for God. That’s why I was reaching out to you. My wife was in the hospital. I needed a man of faith to come and lay hands on her and pray for her. You let me down.”

Sean: “Oh my goodness. I had no idea! I’m no good; I’m such a loser. You’d think I’d be better at this by now. I’m nothing more than a piece of trash. I can’t believe I let you down. I’m so ashamed and embarrassed.”

Here Joshua deftly side-stepped my attack on whether he had the right to hold me accountable and explained his disappointment more deeply. Here though, instead of escaping the shame, I metabolized it in a toxic way. Rather than focusing on my actions, or inaction in this case, I turned the shame inward to criticize my character. This, too, is an unhealthy way of dealing with shame.

Joshua: “Sean, it’s ok. Everybody messes up from time to time. We are the kind of people who learn from our mistakes. God loves you and I love you. I’m not discarding you; I’m not going to tell others about this. I care about you and want to see you do better.”

Sean: “You’re right. I should have been there for you. I’m sorry you had to go through this alone. It must have been scary for you. What can I do?”

Joshua: “Just be there for me next time. I may have another emergency one day, and I need you to get back to me when I reach out for help.”

After offering reassurance that our relationship is going to make it through this crisis, Joshua expressed love and concern. Finally, I was able to appropriately metabolize my shame by admitting I was wrong, saying I was sorry, and asking what I can do to help. Additionally, I was at last able to activate empathy and feel how Joshua must have felt when my inactivity resulted in him facing his difficulty alone.

I hope this little fictional story helped you to see what not to do. When someone comes at you with an accusation, don’t counterattack, shift the blame, question their right to correct you, or attack your own character. These are all toxic responses that will erode your relationships in life. Rather, processing the shame relationally allows for change over time.

This is absolutely necessary if you will mature throughout your life.

Sadly, many people stay stunted, because they are not correctable. What drives this? More often than not, it’s our fear of shame. You see, shame is a painful feeling. So, we do what we can to avoid it.

When we look at the Bible, we find many examples of avoiding shame. Immediately after Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, they felt shame. Their response to God’s questions shows a pattern we must fight to avoid.

Genesis 3:8-13. 8 They heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden. 9 But the LORD God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” 10 He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.” 11 He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” 12 The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate.” 13 Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent tricked me, and I ate.”

They did something wrong and felt bad about it. This caused them to hide from God. When he confronted them, they shifted the blame. The man blamed not only the woman, but also God when he said, “The woman whom you gave me … she gave me … and I ate.” Likewise, Eve blamed the serpent. This ancient response to avoiding shame comes very naturally to us today. Have you blamed something or someone else to avoid feeling the heat of shame in the moment? I know I have.

Cain, too, after he killed Abel refused to face what he had done. When God asked Cain where his brother Abel was, he said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen 4:9). It’s unbelievable to me that Cain tried to play dumb with God. Cain knew exactly where Abel was—dead in a field, his blood soaking into the ground. Rather than feeling the pain of his actions, he lied and excused himself from responsibility.

But even if the Bible contains plenty of negative examples of what not to do, it also has positive examples to emulate. Perhaps the most chilling comes from the life of David. Having slept with another man’s wife and having orchestrated that man’s death, David thought he had gotten away with his sin. Then came Nathan the prophet. Rather than confronting the king directly, he told him a little story.

2 Samuel 12:1-4. 1 and the LORD sent Nathan to David. He came to him and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. 2 The rich man had very many flocks and herds, 3 but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb that he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare and drink from his cup and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. 4 Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.”

Do you see what Nathan did here? Nathan’s story is really about wealthy David who took his poor neighbor’s wife, even though he already had lots of women. Funnily enough, David took the whole matter literally.

2 Samuel 12:5-6. Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, “As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; 6 he shall restore the lamb fourfold because he did this thing and because he had no pity.”

Here David’s rage boils over. He can’t believe that anyone would do such a thing in his kingdom. Such callous greed must be punished. Though the Law of Moses required repayment of double for such a scenario (Exodus 22:4), David doubled it with the result that the offender would pay fourfold.

Then we arrive at the most chilling moment in the confrontation.

2 Samuel 12:7-12. 7 Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; 8 I gave you your master’s house and your master’s wives into your bosom and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah, and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more. 9 Why have you despised the word of the LORD, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword and have taken his wife to be your wife and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. 10 Now, therefore, the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. 11 Thus says the LORD: I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house, and I will take your wives before your eyes and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in broad daylight. 12 For you did it secretly, but I will do this thing before all Israel and in broad daylight.”

Nathan’s words must have stung like a slap to the face. How will David respond? His face must have been red hot. He must have felt the pain of shame deeply. He could just kill Nathan. That would be the ultimate power move. Instead, David metabolized the shame relationally. He confessed and admitted his guilt. Here’s what he said.

2 Samuel 12:13-15. 13 David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the LORD.” Nathan said to David, “Now the LORD has put away your sin; you shall not die. 14 Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child born to you shall die.” 15 Then Nathan went to his house.

David repented. He admitted what he did. He said the magical words, “I have sinned against Yahweh.” What an incredible moment of honesty and integrity! As we read on, we see that he prayed and he fasted. We know from Psalm 51 that David was truly repentant.

It was a tough road ahead. He still had to face the consequences of his sin, but his relationship with God survived. He got through it and became a better man because of it.

What about you? What do you do when someone confronts you? I know what I do.

If my wife calls me out on some behavior, I’m embarrassed to say, I go into lawyer mode. I become defense attorney Sean P. Finnegan. I start pointing out the flaws in her reasoning. I bring up counterevidence to prove that I wasn’t wrong. I blame others. I do whatever I can to get out of it.

The crazy thing about this response is that it is immediate and involuntary. Like a reflex, it just happens automatically. And it’s sincere. I actually convince myself that she’s got it all wrong. She’s having a bad day. Her hormones are unbalanced. Or perhaps she’s just got too much stress between managing the kids and work. Or she’s just oversensitive. Somehow, I know in my bones, she’s the problem.

Do you know what my wife says to me when I do this? She says, “You’re not listening!” But here’s the thing. I am listening. In fact, I’m listening intently… so that I can disprove her criticisms of me. I’m listening for the flaw in her reasoning or the misstated fact so I can escape the shame.

Due to my defensiveness, I avoid feeling the pain of shame that I should experience for hurting the woman I love the most. As a result, I fail to change. I do the thing again. She gets upset again. She confronts me again. I defend myself again. And I stay the same. Around and around we go.

Can you relate to this?

However, if I can learn to metabolize shame relationally, I can change over time. I can grow and mature to become more like Christ (Eph 4:13, 15). Rather than protecting myself from the criticism, I can own what I did, regardless of the motivation or extenuating circumstances. The fact is I did something that hurt my wife. I can own that. And if I do, I can change over time and my marriage can improve.

In a conflict, I still feel the urge to defend myself. I want to counterattack, blame shift, or dismantle the logic. I don’t know if that will ever go away. But I can hold this compulsion at bay while I listen to what she says and echo it back to her. I can say to her, “What I hear you saying is…” and then summarize what I think she said. If I can understand how my actions or inaction caused her pain, I can unlock the secret and most necessary ingredient to escape from narcissism—empathy.

If I can feel her pain in the moment, I can say, “Oh dear, I’m so sorry I made you feel that way” or “That must have been hard for you.” She can feel heard. I can ask, “What can I do?” She can help me to become a better man. I can experience transformation.

What about you?

How can you handle shame better in your life?

One last issue I need to mention is that there is such a thing as toxic shame. This is when someone attacks your character, not your actions. For example, someone says to you, “You’re such a loser. Look at you. You’ll never amount to anything.” In this kind of attack, there is nothing positive or healthy. Telling someone they’re no good is not a proper method of confrontation. Rather, you must focus on actions and their effect. You can say, “When you did x, I felt y.” Here are some quick examples.

When you didn’t take out the trash last night, I felt unloved.
When you left the sink piled with dirty dishes, I felt frustrated.
When you rejected my request for sex last night, I felt unwanted and undesirable.
When you corrected me in front of others, I felt diminished and insignificant.

You get the idea. Instead of attacking the person, point out the action. Toxic shame will not produce godly results. Healthy shame, however, is a great key to transformation over time. Those who can process it relationally can escape from narcissism and have better relationships.

1. Ovid, Metamorphoses, trans. David Raeburn (New York, NY: Penguin, 2004), 112–13.[↩]
2. Michel Hendricks, and Jim Wilder, The Other Half of Church (Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers, 2020), 157.[↩]