The Futility of Blame

I was chatting with someone recently about how each generation believes they’ll do better than the one before. Many parents strive to provide a better life for their children—more comfort, more opportunity, more protection from hardship. But in doing so, they sometimes shield their children from the realities of life, creating a different set of struggles.

It made me think of The Living Years by Mike & The Mechanics—a powerful reminder of how short time is, how much goes unsaid, and how we often don’t understand the weight of generational patterns until it’s too late.


Blame is everywhere. It runs through generations, through cultures, through our conversations. We blame parents for our struggles, governments for our hardships, and past generations for the state of the world. We blame partners, colleagues, strangers. And in doing so, we unknowingly pass down the habit—teaching the next generation to point fingers rather than seek solutions.

But what does blame really do?

It might feel justified. It might even feel like control. But in reality, blame stifles progress, poisons relationships, and keeps us trapped in cycles of resentment. It divides rather than unites. It silences rather than heals. It keeps us looking backward when what we truly need is a way forward.

Many of us have been shaped by a culture that externalises responsibility. If something goes wrong, someone must be at fault. But the more we focus on assigning blame, the less we focus on change. Responsibility is not the same as blame. When we take responsibility, we reclaim our power. When we stay in blame, we hand our power away.

None of this is to say that harm doesn’t happen. That suffering isn’t real. That people aren’t left carrying the weight of another person’s actions. Some wounds are caused by others, and acknowledging that truth is part of healing. But staying in blame forever binds us to the pain. Justice is important. Accountability is essential. But healing is something no one else can do for us.

Blame shuts down communication. It fuels division. It breeds resentment. And resentment doesn’t just live in the mind—it settles in the body like poison. It keeps us tethered to what hurt us rather than freeing us from it. If we truly want to heal, we must release the grip of resentment. Not for those who harmed us, but for ourselves.

Blame—whether directed at others or ourselves—shuts down communication. It fuels division. It breeds resentment. But when blame turns inward, it takes an even deeper toll.

Self-blame can feel like control, like taking responsibility. But instead of leading to change, it often leads to shame. And shame doesn’t make us better—it makes us feel unworthy of being better. It silences us. It keeps us small. It convinces us that we are our mistakes.

“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” – Brené Brown

Self-blame and shame are deeply connected, often reinforcing each other in a painful cycle.

1. Self-Blame: Turns Pain Inward

When something goes wrong, instead of recognizing external factors or acknowledging that mistakes are a natural part of life, self-blame makes it personal. It turns an event into a reflection of who we are. Instead of thinking, I made a mistake,” we think, I am a mistake.”

2. The Birth of Shame

Self-blame, when left unchecked, evolves into shame. While guilt says, “I did something bad,” shame whispers, I am bad.” Over time, this internalised belief can become part of our identity, shaping how we see ourselves and the world around us.

3. The Impact of Shame

Emotional paralysis – Shame makes it hard to take action or change because we believe we are inherently flawed.

Hiding and isolation – Shame thrives in secrecy. The more we blame ourselves, the less we reach out for connection or support.

Self-sabotage – If we believe we are unworthy, we may unconsciously reinforce that belief by pushing away opportunities, relationships, or success.

Perfectionism and people-pleasing – To compensate for shame, we may overcompensate by trying to be “perfect” or constantly seeking approval.

To stop the cycle, we must shift from blame to understanding. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” we can ask, “What happened to me?” Instead of punishing ourselves for struggling, we can offer ourselves the kindness we would extend to a friend.

Because healing doesn’t come from blame. It comes from self-compassion.

If we want to heal, we must recognize that mistakes and struggles do not define us. We must replace self-blame with self-compassion. Because healing doesn’t come from punishing ourselves—it comes from understanding ourselves.

If we want to create change, we must model something different. We must shift from blame to understanding, from division to connection, from resentment to responsibility.

• Instead of blaming, we can seek understanding

• Instead of resentment, we can seek healing.

• Instead of passing down blame, we can teach accountability and self-awareness.

Because the next generation is watching. And if we show them how to move forward without carrying the weight of blame, maybe—just maybe—we start to change the cycle.