Morning-After Shame: Why It Hits So Hard (and How to Talk Back)
Recently, I was a guest on the Hump Day Quickies podcast, and one of the topics that (unsurprisingly) came up was the shame (or guilt) that can sneak in after a big, fun weekend. You know the one: everything felt amazing in the moment - connected, sexy, alive - and then, the next day (or maybe two or three days later), something shifts. That pit in your stomach, that little voice that whispers, “Should I have done that?” Or even, “WHO was that?”
This is something I hear from my clients very frequently. It also came up on another podcast I did about sacred sexuality on The Monogamish Marriage. As an exercise for working with shame, I often recommend parts work (IFS, or Internal Family Systems), developed by Dr. Richard Schwartz) as a framework to get to know the part of us that feels shame, or sexual shame in particular. What clicked for me recently is this: the sexually expressed one might also be “acting out” in some instances, for the very same reason shame shows up - because she doesn’t always get listened to. She doesn’t always have a seat at the table.
The Parts That Live Inside Us
Parts work is based on the idea that each of us has different “parts,” or inner voices or aspects of self, that show up at different times. None of them are bad; they’re all trying to help us survive, even thrive.
What I keep hearing, though, is that after a big weekend, two common parts collide:
· The Sexual Part (for sake of this discussion, but you may call your part something else) – She’s the one who loves freedom, touch, pleasure, and the thrill of being seen and desired. She often gets shushed in our everyday lives: “Not now, you’re too much, be careful.”
· The Sex-Shaming Part (again, simplifying for discussion) – She shows up with a wagging finger: “That was reckless. You should be embarrassed. What will people think?” Her job, in her mind, is to keep you safe from rejection, abandonment, or loss. And growing up in puritanical cultures (like the U.S.) means most of us have this part.
Here’s the kicker: when either of these parts has been ignored for too long, she tends to overreact.
Why Shame Feels So Loud
Think of your Sexual Part. Most days, she’s told to pipe down: There are kids to raise, jobs to do.. responsibilities. So when she finally gets a stage, she doesn’t just come out to sing one song… she belts the entire album at full volume.
Then, the Shaming Part, who feels her warnings have been brushed aside, swoops in afterward. Loud. Judgmental. Overbearing.
Both parts are “too much” only because they haven’t been heard enough in everyday life. The overreaction is their way of saying: “See me! Pay attention to me!”
I’m not suggesting your sexual adventure was too much, but it’s not a bad idea to do a self-check after every experience, to really presence whether it felt in alignment with your best self. The sluttiest of evenings may absolutely feel aligned - and that’s great. The important part is being honest with ourselves, making that judgment from our higher self, not just from our shamed part.
The Old Programming We Carry
There’s another layer here, especially for those of us navigating non-monogamy: the unlearning.
Most of us grew up steeped in messages that sex is dangerous, that pleasure is shameful, that love should only look one way. Even if you’ve shed much of that conditioning and embraced a relationship model that truly serves you, your parts don’t always get the memo.
Your Shaming Part, in particular, is probably still running old programming. She’s pulling from the scripts she learned decades ago, in a culture that didn’t make space for your desires.
That’s why she often shows up later, when the fun is over. She’s not calibrated to your new reality yet. She’s still acting like the world will collapse if you color outside the lines.
This is where the conversation comes in: you can actually talk back to that part. Gently. Compassionately.
“I hear you. I know you’re trying to protect me, but that belief doesn’t serve me anymore. You don’t have to protect me like that.”
When you acknowledge that she’s carrying outdated lessons - and reassure her that you’re safe - the intensity of shame often softens.
the Shame-reframe
Here’s the shift: shame isn’t proof that you messed up. It’s simply a messenger, holding onto a script that might not belong to you anymore.
Instead of trying to silence it or letting it drag you into the mud, you can pause and ask:
· What does my Sexual Part need right now?
· What does my Shaming Part need right now?
· Which of their beliefs are still true for me, and which are outdated programming?
Sometimes the answer is simple: your sexual self may need to be integrated more into your daily life so she doesn’t have to go wild to feel alive. Your shaming self may just need reassurance that the “rules” she learned growing up don’t apply anymore.
Gentle Practices to Try
· Before the event: Take a few quiet minutes and acknowledge both parts. Let your Sexual Part know she’ll get space to shine. Let your Shaming Part know you’ll listen later.
· After the event: Instead of shutting down the shame, sit with it. Ask: “What are you worried about for me? Whose rules are those?” Sometimes, just being curious diffuses her intensity.
· With your partner(s): Share what you’re noticing. Simply saying: “I’m feeling some shame today, I think it’s my old programming talking” can take away its sting.
· Ongoing: Find small ways to honor your sexuality outside of big weekends. And keep having conversations with shame, teaching her gently: “We don’t need that rule anymore.”
Closing Thought
What I love about parts work is that it doesn’t make shame the enemy. As Dr. Richard Schwartz teaches, every part of us has good intentions - even the ones that feel heavy or inconvenient. Shame is just one of the cast members, sitting at the same table as desire, joy, playfulness, and care. (Yes, really, think Inside Out, the Disney-Pixar movie. They got it right!)
When we stop silencing these voices and start listening, they don’t have to scream so loud. And that means less whiplash between the ecstasy of the weekend and the heaviness of the morning after.
Shame isn’t here to punish you, necessarily. She’s here to remind you of the old lessons you’ve carried and to give you a chance to decide whether they still fit. When you meet her with compassion, alongside your radiant sexual self, the whole system feels safer. Once she really hears you - that she is safe - she’ll show up less, or with less intensity.
When these two parts aren’t at odds pleasure can become not just a weekend escape, but a fully integrated part of your life.