The Four Bridges - From shame back to vulnerability — and how to walk across
- Chris Colcomb

- 4 hours ago
- 4 min read
Last week, we looked at the Compass of Shame — Donald Nathanson's map of the four directions we tend to run when shame shows up: withdrawal, attack other, attack self, and avoidance. The compass is a useful piece of self-knowledge, but it can leave you with a question. Once you've noticed your default move, what do you do instead?
Nathanson's compass is sometimes drawn with something added at the centre: a quiet pairing of shame and vulnerability. Shame is the place we land when something hurts and we feel exposed; vulnerability is the place we can land if we stay with the feeling long enough to let it become something else. The four poles of the compass are all ways of refusing that landing. The four bridges, in turn, are ways of crossing back to it.

A bridge isn't a trick or a technique. It's a small reflective question, asked at the right moment, that turns you back towards yourself and the people around you rather than away from them. Each pole has its own bridge.
From Withdrawal to Engagement
The bridge for withdrawal is engagement, and the question is: who can I connect to?
When shame sends us into hiding, the instinct is to assume nobody wants to see us anyway. The bridge is to test that assumption. Not by broadcasting our worst moment to the world, but by reaching for one person who has earned the right to know us — a partner, a friend, a therapist, a colleague — and saying something true. It can be small: “I've had a hard day.” “I felt stupid in that meeting.” “I'm struggling.” The act of being seen, by even one person, is what withdrawal cannot survive.
From Attack Other to Empathy
The bridge for attack-other is empathy, and the question is: how did their pain put them there?
When shame makes us lash out, we tend to see the other person as a threat — they're the problem, and the world would be simpler without them. Empathy doesn't excuse anyone, and it doesn't mean we have to like what they did. It just means we widen the frame. The colleague who snapped at us is also someone with a story we don't know. The driver who cut in front is having a day we can't see. Empathy is the willingness to grant other people the same complexity we grant ourselves, by moving into their frame of reference.
From Attack Self to Self-Compassion
The bridge for attack-self is self-compassion, and the question is: how did your pain bring you here?
When shame turns inwards, the inner critic gets loud and certain: you're useless, you always do this, no wonder. Self-compassion is the practice of speaking to yourself the way you'd speak to a friend in the same situation. Not letting yourself off the hook — friends don't do that either — but offering yourself context, warmth, and the understanding that you, like everyone, are doing your best with what you have. Kristin Neff, who has spent decades researching self-compassion, describes it simply as treating yourself with kindness, recognising your common humanity, and noticing your suffering with mindfulness rather than judgement.
From Avoidance to Accepting Responsibility
The bridge for avoidance is accepting responsibility, and the question is: what is my part in this?
This bridge is the one people most often misunderstand, because “taking responsibility” can sound like another way of attacking yourself. It isn't. Self-attack says “this is all my fault, I'm terrible.” Responsibility says “here's the part of this that is mine — no more, no less — and here's what I'd like to do about it.” Avoidance keeps us small and stuck. Responsibility, oddly, is the thing that gives us back our agency. The moment we own our share of a situation is the moment we can do something about it.
Why the bridges work
Each bridge does the same underlying thing: it slows you down enough to feel what shame was trying to make you skip. Shame is in a hurry. It wants you off the feeling and onto a behaviour as fast as possible — hide, lash, blame, distract. You’re struck in the “I’m not OK, you’re not OK position.”
The bridges ask you to pause, breathe, and ask a question. In that small pause, vulnerability becomes possible. And vulnerability, despite the word, is not weakness. It's the precondition for almost everything good — honest conversation, intimacy, creativity, learning, repair. Vulnerability allows yourself to move into the “I’m OK, you’re OK position.”
You won't always cross the bridge. Some days the compass wins and you find yourself halfway across one of the poles before you notice. That's not a failure; it's the human condition. The point of knowing the bridges is not perfection. It's that, more and more often, you'll catch yourself mid-stride — and remember there is another way to walk.
Talking Works
If you would like to find out more, I would welcome a conversation with you.
Why not book a FREE Zoom consultation with me at a time to suit you?
I hope to speak with you soon!
Chris


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