Sarah, a 26-year-old junior graphic designer, seeks help after a conflict with a close friend, Julia, following an incident at a pool party. Although typically outgoing and confident in her identity as an open lesbian, she struggles with confronting people who show insensitivity towards her sexual orientation. Sarah recently experienced conflict with Julia when she gently reminded her about keeping pubic hair inside bikini bottoms. Instead of appreciating the concern, Julia accused Sarah of being a pervert. Other friends later accused Sarah of trying to turn people into lesbians. Conflicted and visibly upset during the intake session, Sarah may benefit from individual counseling sessions focusing on improving communication skills, particularly in confronting insensitive behavior, while also exploring strategies to deal with social pressure and developing a stronger support network.
Feeling embarrassed in social settings is a complex reaction, not simply a personal failing. When we feel judged or uncomfortable, our natural response is often to become defensive or accuse others to protect ourselves. Because of this, even well-intentioned attempts to address a social issue can easily be misinterpreted by others. Recognizing these underlying emotional struggles is key to approaching difficult social moments with empathy rather than immediate judgment.
Auto-Homophobia in social Groups
Sarah sat in the chair opposite me, her posture rigid, her eyes doing that thing where they dart away from the room as if the walls might be listening. I remember the first time we met. She was twenty-six, a junior graphic designer who could talk her way through any room, yet here she was, stuck in the mud of a social media feud she couldn’t untangle. This emotional byte of shame and self-doubt had been festering beneath her confident exterior – an invisible script that told her she was somehow wrong for pointing out that her friend Julia’s pubic hair was showing under her bikini—and in return she had been accused of being a pervert, with texts flooding in from their wider circle saying she’d been trying to turn everyone into a lesbian.
From what I’ve seen in my two decades of practice, we tend to think conflict is about the argument itself. It isn’t. It’s about the shame that sits underneath it. Sarah was fighting against the feeling of being caught out for something she hadn’t even intended as a big deal. When she said, “Hey, Julia, your hair is showing,” she was attempting to create a moment of connection, but her words got hijacked by the collective anxiety that comes with auto-homophobia.
What I’ve Noticed
The counterintuitive truth I’ve carried from this case is how often we blame the messenger for the message. Sarah used humour to describe the incident, a classic coping mechanism for someone who wants to appear unbothered while feeling deeply wounded. But I noticed that her confusion wasn’t about the text messages accusing her of being a proselytising lesbian; it was actually about the speed of the backlash. This was an overwhelming emotional byte, a surge of feelings that left her reeling and unsure of how to respond. What she needed was the ability to differentiate between her own emotions and the projected ones of her friends.
What I’ve noticed in counselling is that when someone feels exposed, they don’t just defend their action; they defend their entire sense of self. Julia’s accusation about her pubes wasn’t about Sarah’s comment; it was about Julia’s own fear and vulnerability. When she was made aware of her body in a public space, she felt a surge of anxiety, a kind of social blushing that turned into anger. This was a moment of disintegration – a breakdown that forced Julia to confront her own discomfort of being perceived as a lesbian herself and even her own fear of being homosexual herself. But instead of facing it, she flipped the script by accusing Sarah of being a pervert. It’s a classic move of someone’s internal Protector, trying to deflect attention away from their own exposed feelings.
The Thing Worth Holding Onto
The core insight here is that we don’t need to take the blame for other people’s defensive mechanisms. Sarah had done nothing wrong. She had seen a fact and stated it. The chaos that followed was a projection of Julia’s own fears, not a reflection of Sarah’s character. This is what I call an Invisible Structure – a set of unspoken and unseen rules that dictate how we respond to each other. What Sarah needed to remember was to keep her own autonomy while maintaining connection – she had every right to speak up without being punished for it, but her competence in communication was being questioned.
What Actually Helps
So, what actually helps? It’s not about learning to speak less; it’s about learning to detach. When you say something practical and are met with an emotional explosion, don’t engage with the explosion. Engage with the fact. “I saw your hair was out. I told you because I was concerned about your embarrassment. I thought we had a relationship which could handle that?” This is about being clear and direct without taking on the burden of others’ shame. As Sarah’s intention was helpful – she had simply wanted to be a good friend – but it got hijacked by Julia’s need to protect herself.
We need to stop trying to manage other people’s shame. It’s not our job. When Sarah stopped trying to convince her friends she wasn’t a pervert, she was able to see the situation for what it was: a group of people, caught in a moment of social embarrassment, lashing out to protect their own sense of self. This is the work of the Observing Self – the part of us that can step back and witness the chaos without getting caught up in it. Sarah’s job was to sit with her own discomfort, to feel the sting of the accusation, and to know that it wasn’t about her. It was about Julia. And that’s a truth you can carry forward, without sugar-coating it.
Some people are so busy defending their own edges, they forget to check if they’re holding a knife.