What We Misunderstand About Jung's Shadow
- Chris Tompkins

- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
For many gay men, shame is conscious. Worth is not.
KEY POINTS
For many gay men, shame is conscious — but worth, resilience, and capability often are not.
Minority stress and anti-LGBTQ legislation are reactivating familial homophobia in gay men across the country.
Shadow work includes acknowledging our inherent worth, resilience, and abilities.

Carl Jung described the shadow as the unconscious parts of ourselves — aspects we've repressed, denied, or didn't know existed.
For a long time, my understanding of the shadow, as it relates to gay men and shame, was pretty straightforward. I had always viewed it as internalized homophobia, believing something about me was fundamentally wrong, or aspects of my identityI'd learned to hide.
But a recent experience in therapy helped me see my understanding had been incomplete.
Many gay men know shame and are familiar with hiding. Most of my clients can tell me they've had a close and personal relationship with shame—so much so that it's created negative consequences in their lives, including their relationships, sex lives, and even their careers.
What is often less recognized in the shadow is something else entirely: that we're capable of doing difficult things, we're resilient, and we've been able to accomplish a lot in life. Yet that part seems to be unconscious.
For gay men, what's already conscious is the shame we've internalized and feelings of not being enough — a story many of us know well. Where those feelings come from is an important part of our healing process. The goal, though, is to help make our unknown, and often unconscious, worth known.
Clinically, the most commonly diagnosed disorders in the LGBTQ community include mood disorders, substance use disorders, co-occurring disorders, trauma-related disorders, and eating disorders (American Psychiatric Association, LGBTQ Patients - Mental Health Disparities, 2022). Depression and anxiety are 1.5 times higher in LGBTQ individuals than in heterosexual individuals. Research also shows that LGBTQ individuals have rates of substance abuse two to three times higher than the general population in the United States.
Minority stress refers to the chronic stress experienced by marginalized groups, including LGBTQ individuals, as a result of ongoing stigma, discrimination, and exclusion — from society, family, and early environments where their identity was ignored or invalidated.
Over the past few months, a common theme among many of my clients has been the reactivation of familial homophobia. Clients of all ages and backgrounds are seeking support to process pain that's being reactivated by the wave of anti-LGBTQ legislation sweeping the U.S., particularly under the current administration. A well-known affirming therapist I know, Nick Fager, co-founder of Expansive Therapy, shared a report from his group practice echoing the same sentiment and other therapists across the country are hearing similar experiences from their queer clients who want to shrink, hide, or live their lives under the radar.
I recently watched an interview between Emma Grede and Oprah Winfrey about Grede's new book, Starting with You. She was talking about her purpose for writing the book and her hope for women. She said, "All women are exhausted. While it's very easy — and we see this all over our culture — to blame men and inequitable systems, that's not how I roll. Nothing is fair, it's true. But I don't have time to wait for equity; I'd rather make it. I take full responsibility for my life, and I create my own future, regardless of what comes back at me."
I thought about her quote and how it could apply to gay men. While the experience of gay men is not the same as women's, I related to what she wrote about being exhausted from navigating inequitable systems — in our case, heteronormativity and homophobia.
What would it mean if more gay men were able to make their unconscious worth conscious? What would that look like? What impact would it make in our own lives, and in the lives of our communities?
This isn't to minimize, downplay, or bypass pain. It's an encouragement for each of us, as gay men, to understand our shame as a defense mechanism, one that helped us survive at one time. Now that we're adults, though, we don't have to hold onto it anymore. We can consciously choose to release it and, in the process, bring our unconscious worth into our conscious lives — in how we relate to the world, our communities, and most importantly, to ourselves.
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Chris Tompkins is a gay male therapist in West Hollywood (Los Angeles) who specializes in working with adult gay men, individuals and couples. He supports clients navigating identity, relationships, religious trauma, addiction, and self-esteem. To learn more, explore therapeutic services or schedule a free consultation.




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