Shame, eye contact, and the intimacy of attention

There’s a certain loneliness that has nothing to do with being single or alone.

It’s the feeling of being invisible.

You can feel it in the elevator when someone comes in and doesn’t acknowledge your presence, as if you were made of cellophane, as the song “Mr. Cellophane” from the musical Chicago painfully reminds us:

“Cause you can look right through me, walk right by me And never know I’m there…”

You can feel it when you’re in a roomful of friends, when the conversation keeps moving around you, but never quite lands with you. You’re there, you’re smiling, you’re nodding, but you don’t feel included.

You feel unseen.

This type of loneliness has nothing to do with being alone, but with being unmet. And somehow, if you’re plagued by shame, this kind of invisibility can feel familiar and safer than it really should. That’s because having someone’s attention is intimate. And intimacy can be scary. So people avoid making eye contact.

Eye contact is not just visual. It’s a moment in time and space where you recognize another human being and acknowledge “I see you”, “I’m here”, “I’m real and so are you”. It is a bridge between two nervous systems when a connection is made.

But for some of us, that can seem like an impossible threat.

What do shame, eye contact, and attention have to do with each other?

How the body learns to fear being seen.

Let’s first talk about shame. It’s very different from guilt.

Guilt is behavior-based and says, “I did something wrong.”

Shame is identity-based and says, “I am wrong; there’s something wrong with me” It’s important to know the difference because guilt can inspire, change, repair, and responsibility.

With shame, the goal is to disappear. Shame motivates hiding, because “I am wrong”. So we will show up, but not be fully present. We will communicate, but keep our real feelings locked up and throw away the key so no one can get to them; sometimes, we can’t access them ourselves. We will be friendly, but keep our eyes moving, lest anyone make eye contact and really see us. The fear is that being seen invites judgment. And that isn’t just theoretical for many people. It’s a memory stored in the body.

Maybe, as a child, when you performed, achieved something, or were useful, you received praise. But you also probably learned that that attention meant being evaluated, compared, shamed, rejected, or sexualized. So you adapted. Your body associated eye contact with danger, so you avoided it altogether. And that is why shame is so destructive to intimacy. It doesn’t just make you think you did something wrong. It makes you think that you are wrong.

Eye contact is nervous system contact.

Eye contact creates a little moment of recognition and vulnerability.

If eye contact makes you uncomfortable, there’s nothing wrong with you. Eye contact might seem warm and connecting for some people, but for others, it can feel like being in the spotlight with no script, or even invasive, like someone trying to look inside your soul without your permission.

That reaction is a nervous system response, not just a personality trait. Eye contact can also activate desire. And that can bring up another can of worms for other people! To be seen as attractive, wanting or wanted, triggers shame in people who learned early on that their desire is wrong, or too feminine, too gay, too dirty…. You get the picture.

So, avoiding eye contact became a protective boundary. And I can understand that.

Attention is a form of touch.

We tend to think of touch as only physical. Holding hands, kissing, cuddling, a warm body next to your body.

Attention is not physical, but it is a kind of touch that lands in the body just like physical touch would. Have you ever been in a conversation where the other person was really listening?

Their eyes were steady; they were present; they were not thinking about what to say next; they were with you. You felt your chest soften, and your breath deepened. That was co-regulation, not magic. That is the intimacy of attention. Attention can be erotic in a non-sexual way.

Erotic as in energy. Aliveness. Presence. The sensation of being met. But then shame tries to prevent that from happening by urging you not to linger, or be too much, and certainly, not to invite anyone to look closely! Shame makes attention feel dangerous. So we keep it light, quick, and safe. And then we wonder why connection is so elusive.

The way we look away today

These days, we have perfected the art of being occupied: phones, earbuds, sunglasses, and busyness, which give us permission to avoid each other.

But this is not completely baseless because we are navigating real safety concerns, such as being overstimulated, tired, or managing anxiety. But there’s also something else happening. It protects us from the vulnerability of being seen.

If you never look someone in the eye, you don’t have to wonder what they think about you, or feel the ache of your own longing. If you never stop long enough to be recognized, you can keep moving through life as though everything is fine.

Shame loves that. Shame does best without witnesses.

How shame shows up around eye contact

Shame doesn’t always look miserable and unloveable. Shame can look pretty smart. Sometimes it looks like competence, charm, humor, sexual confidence, or social fluency.

Start noticing when shame makes an appearance in your life around attention and eye contact: • You make eye contact for a second, then quickly look away to break the intensity.

• You hold eye contact but your body feels tight and braced.

• You smile a lot to manage the other person’s reaction.

• You avoid being the one who initiates eye contact.

• You feel exposed when someone looks at you with warmth.

• You interpret neutral expressions as judgment.

• You feel safer being desired than being known.

• You can be physically intimate, but sustained eye contact feels too intimate.

If any of those seem familiar, I’d like to emphasize that there’s nothing wrong with you. Your nervous system just learned something early on about the cost of being seen.

Learning the intimacy of attention

To become more comfortable with eye contact, you want to make sure you have safety and choice, and not force yourself into intensity.

• Connect with strangers in micro-moments. Make eye contact a second longer than you normally would, then soften your gaze and naturally look away. You don’t want to stare, but just offer a moment acknowledging that human being.

• You can look at features of the face if direct eye contact feels too intense. You can look at their eyebrows,, their nose, or cheekbones. You will still appear to be engaged without you feeling exposed.

• Notice your body, not your story. When looking at someone makes you feel uncomfortable, notice what is happening in your body. Is your chest tight? Do you feel flushed? Do you hold your breath? Being aware of that is the beginning of intimacy with yourself.

• Try with someone safe. Sit facing each other and set a timer for 30 seconds. Look gently in each other’s eyes. Then discuss what came up with each of you. Just your sensations, not an analysis of your response.

• Shine a light on it. Noticing shame and naming it even to yourself is one of the most powerful things you can do to begin reducing shame. You noticed shame and survived.

What’s the point?

The point is to make you reclaim attention as nourishment and make you better at eye contact, but not because it’s a social skill you’re failing at.

When you can, even for a brief moment, hold someone’s gaze without collapsing into shame or performance, you will start to feel more confident in your own presence. You begin to trust that you can survive being seen, and even slowly believe that you can be liked just for being you.

Eye contact during sex

Eye contact during sex can feel like the most intimate thing ever, sometimes even more than the sex itself. This is because you are being witnessed in your wanting, your desire, your uncertainty, your tenderness, all in real time.

For some people this can bring up a lot of shame. You might enjoy touching and being touched, but the moment eyes meet, something makes you want to disappear, or go numb. That is shame conjuring up stories like “If you really see me, you’ll change your mind”, or “I am not enough”. But that same eye contact can become erotic reassurance, saying “I am here with you; not above you; not judging you; just in this moment with you”. Those few seconds can transform sex from something you’re doing to something you’re sharing.

In closing

Maybe this is the gentle reframe your body has been craving. Attention is not meant to expose like a spotlight. In reality, it is warmth; it’s nourishment; and it proof that you can be seen and still be safe.

So this week, try holding someone’s gaze for a second longer than usual and notice what happens in your body. Take what you find as information, not a verdict. And if all you can offer is a brief bridge of connection, that ok, but it’ll be brief, real, and human.

Trevor James

Author

Trevor James is a certified touch and cuddle therapist, sacred intimate, masseur, intimacy coach, as well as a workshop and retreat facilitator, and the author of "On Being Seen: Chronicles of a Touch & Intimacy Therapist". His work helps men reconnect with pleasure, presence, and authentic expression—one breath, one touch, one moment at a time.