You're carrying shame that feels like it stains your soul

Out beyond wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field, and I would meet you there, in the place shame's verdict cannot reach — for the stain you feel is not the truth of you. Shame lies about what it says you are — there is a difference between guilt, which says you did a bad thing, and shame, which says you are a bad thing, and while guilt over a real wrong can be useful, shame's deeper claim that your very self is rotten is a distortion, a lie that magnifies a deed or a wound into a verdict on your whole being. Shame heals in the light of being seen and still accepted — it grows in secrecy and darkness, but brought carefully into the light before someone safe who receives it with acceptance rather than the rejection you feared, it loses its grip, for being seen and still loved disproves shame's core claim that you are unacceptable. And there is a self beneath the shame that was never stained — the deep self, the soul, which shame convinced you is rotten but which remains whole and worthy beneath, untouched by any deed or wound, so reach beneath the shame to the self that was never the ruined thing it says. What is the shame you carry?