The Shame Of It All

Here’s the thing about shame, similar to self-esteem, you either have it, or you don’t. Although people can try their best to increase or decrease it, how you feel, is just how you feel.

When it comes to me, I’m mostly shameless, infrequently embarrassed, and rarely care about other’s feelings about me. It isn’t because I am perfect, far from it. It is because no one has the ability to check my actions more efficiently than myself. I don’t hold back; I constantly and systematically knock myself over the head with some pretty aggressive truths. I don’t enjoy feeling sometimes feeling inadequate when I have let myself down, but I appreciate the internal dialogue that keeps me honest and aware.

Why does this matter when it comes to blogging? Much of what I write is rooted in my transparency. If I told you the same stories concerned about modesty, they would fall flat. Everyone doesn’t have this range of conversation. Everyone does not do regular emotional audits. Everyone does not have to ability to bypass shame into healing, or action.

Everyone isn’t me.  

So whenever, if ever, I talk about anyone other than myself, the first thing that comes into my mind is, have they healed from this? Have the recognized the impact of their actions or words? Will this bring them shame that they cannot manage? Will this cause others to see them in an unsavory light?

I may have forgiven their transgressions and moved on…

But have they?

Will others?

There are things I want to share. There are things I need to shout, to declare, and to be heard. But when combining the impact that honesty may have on any offending parties, whether that is how they identify themselves or not, and the weight of their potential shame, it seems almost cruel to speak my reality. It feels offensive to discuss my truth.

What it comes down to is, I don’t want to hurt anyone. Yes, even those that have hurt me. I never want to seem as though I’m sharing from a place of vengeance or anger, but from a place of understanding and progress. I want to show you that you can survive what happened to you, move beyond the worst people have given to you, and recognize you can forgive yourself for any of your actions that amplified your pain, without feeling indignity because of it.

Without discussing the huge conversation of that superstar couple talking at the red table, I will say this, as much as we tell people to live their truths, to be honest in their failures, and to seek community for assistance, there is little place for peace when shame takes up so much space. Shortcomings within yourself, relationships, or career so easily become salacious fodder instead of a moment of clarity. Even those closest to us witness and respond to our struggles within the nearsighted lens of their own comfort. When so many of us want scandal instead of sacred space, I find myself asking, how can openness be an option?  

I recently shared a quote by Anne Lamott.

“You own everything that happened to you.

Tell your stories.

If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

The response was instant. There was a wave of people in my inbox, declaring how difficult it was for them to tell their story. A mix of embarrassment, confusion, sadness, fear, and of course, shame, prevented them from discussing matters weighing heavy on their soul, dragging them down, and holding them back.

I told them to be brave.

I told them believe in their right to be free from anything that has harmed them.

I told them I would gladly listen if they ever needed an audience to their growth.

Then, despite championing everyone else, I did not share my own ugly. Not the ugly that extends beyond me.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt ashamed.

See, while they reminded me of the hurdles that I’ve proudly leapt over, they also highlighted how hypocritical I’ve been. They left me face to face with seeing how my desire to be noble has inundated me with carrying the potential shame of others. I don’t think that is healthy, or necessary to “air out” everything and everyone for shits and giggles. But I do feel there is immense value in providing a place for others to recognize themselves, or their struggles, without any stigma. Somehow, I don’t hold grudges toward those who have harmed me, yet I have burdened my healing with being preoccupied with potentially hurting them.

That isn’t my concern anymore. This isn’t altruism, its avoidance.

Throughout my book, Toxicology: Transform Your Unhealthy Relationships by Becoming Your Own Best Friend, I encourage readers to focus on themselves, because that is the only person they can control. However, I am the one who needed the reminder.

I say all this as a preface to the emotional purge that will be happening on the blog in the upcoming weeks. Who you are is largely molded by what happened in your life and how you navigated those situations.

I want you to know who I am.

You can judge me, them, us… but there is no shame here.

Our stories need to be told. Not just because we deserve to say them, but because someone may need to hear them