Shame Disguised as Motivation

Let’s Talk About Shame Disguised as Motivation

Something’s been showing up repeatedly in my feed — and it needs to be addressed.

Images of disabled people being used as inspirational tools to shame others:

“If I can work with no hands, so can you.”
“If you can scroll on social media, you can work.”

Let’s be clear — this is not empowerment. This is shame-based bullying. And it is deeply harmful.

This narrative pushes a dangerous message:
That your struggle is invalid because someone else has it “worse.” That you should stop claiming disability support. That you’re lazy.

It’s not just unkind — it’s wilfully ignorant.
It assumes that all disabilities are visible.
That trauma doesn’t exist.
That chronic illness, anxiety, neurological differences, or exhaustion aren’t real.
That everyone who can physically touch a screen is mentally and emotionally well enough to function in a workplace.

This is not person-centred thinking.

No two people are the same.
No two stories are the same.
Recovery looks different for everyone. Some people may never recover. That doesn’t make their life less valuable or their needs less real.

If someone has overcome incredible odds and is now able to work — that’s a story worth honouring. For them. But using their story to shame others is not inspiring. It’s violent.

What people need is:
• Compassion
• Care
• Support
• Time
• And the right to be believed.

So if you’re tempted to share one of those posts, stop and ask:
“Is this helping — or is this hurting?”

To those who are struggling quietly, feeling unseen, invalidated or shamed by these messages — I see you. You don’t need to prove your pain to anyone.

You matter.
Your experience is real.
And you are not alone.

Perhaps one of the hardest parts to witness is this:

Why do people make comparisons with others who are suffering — to judge what they cannot possibly understand?

Because judgment feels safer than empathy.
Empathy requires courage. It asks us to sit beside someone in their pain without fixing it, ranking it, or pushing it away. That’s confronting — especially for those still running from their own wounds.

Suffering holds up a mirror.
And for many, that mirror is unbearable.

To see someone struggling — especially when that struggle is raw, messy, invisible, or ongoing — reflects back all the fears we try to keep hidden:

What if I break down? What if I need help and no one comes? What if I’m not strong enough?

So instead, some people turn away. Or worse, turn on those who are already hurting.
To say, “You should be coping better.”
To imply, “It’s your fault.”
To believe, “That will never be me.”

But here’s the truth:

No one escapes life untouched. And when we stop judging and start listening, we begin to heal — together.

And while we’re here — it’s worth asking: Who is sharing these posts, and why now?
Because I don’t believe in coincidence.

These “inspirational” shame posts often surface during political debates about disability benefits, just as media headlines begin to push narratives about “scroungers” or “fraudsters.” They don’t appear in isolation — they rise alongside policy shifts and public messaging designed to divide, distract, and dehumanise.

We must ask:
Who benefits from this narrative?
Certainly not those who are struggling.

It’s not motivation — it’s manipulation. And we need to see it for what it is.

“The test of our humanity is not how we treat the strong, but how we stand with the wounded.”