A Joyous Perspective on Shame: When sharing brings release and power.

It's Friday, and time for another Friday Night Thought Tale Hour with the Henderson's. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week about shame. I watched Brene Brown’s Netflix special (if you haven’t you should, it’s terrific) and re-read part of her book “I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn't)” that I purchased for a friend. It brought back to me a truth many people don't know about me, that is, that I lived in and with shame for nearly three-quarters of my life. All during that time, no one would have noticed or suspected unless they caught me on a day when I wasn't very good at hiding it. Yes, the person you see today, who shows their warts, amplifies their errors and discusses their challenges - the one you might think so transparent and secure - well, she used to be all about the masking.  I vividly remember the day one of my counselors who was helping me to work through my shame uttered this sage quote to me from her comfy chair across the room:

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”

 ~Maya Angelou

“But how could that possibly be true?” I recall thinking. “Isn’t life all about being worthy enough of love and acceptance?”  

That was what my childhood had taught me. Raised by two people, who I now understand were fraught by shame history of their own, I learned early and fast that only the best could be completely loved. And even then, there would be others, maybe even in your own nuclear family, who would be competing for that prize. They would fight you to the death for the award of love and acceptance. 

Before my teen years, I chose to live in a fantasy world of sorts to

help ease my shame. I would go to friend’s homes and pretend that this was my family and my house… Then my mother would pick me up, and I would still pretend that this wasn’t my real family, I was just staying there.  Later, there were arguments where I had to drive down the road to coerce my mother to get back in the truck to go home, talk a parent out of the bathroom threatening to kill themselves, being dragged in the house in front of others and then beaten with a belt due to wearing mascara… I had no way out. This was my lot in life.

In my twelve-year-old mind, my family defined who I was, and their mistakes left me feeling not good enough and not worthy. 

At this young age I had never heard Maya Angelou’s words, “You alone are enough,” so I tried to prove my worth by over-achieving in any way I could. And my work, school, and activities at church - all these became a means to prove to others I was good enough. Trying to do anything I could to hide the shame. I would even lie to my parents about my grades, my popularity - anything to make them proud of me and happier with me.

It was this shame that led me to be a plastic surgeon of sorts, who always tried to cover up my imperfections well into my adulthood.

Shame encouraged me to keep a perfect house, talk about my

perfect children and husband, always wear makeup, and to build a resume that said I was somebody. And then, after a very public divorce and exposure of everything I had ever done to hide my secret shame, I found myself in a new town and a new state, hoping to make a new me. Hoping to save my children from the wages of all my sins.

But it never is that easy. 

Shame has a longer shelf life than one can ever imagine, and it grows wherever you go.

That day in the Counselor's office and other visits with other Therapists, I began to come to terms with the work of unmasking myself. The process of undoing the shame for me has been one of letting go of the need to be perfect, If I don’t have to be perfect, I can then be honest and vulnerable with friends about the struggles I am facing in life. For me, the turning point was losing my kid. There was no hiding in that grief, and I let myself come clean and I began to recognize those around me who wanted me to remain in my cloak of shame. 

Those people who start to see your real strength as you remove the cloak will remind you of your shame because they are incredibly threatened by who you really are.

That’s when you look them straight in the eye and tell them goodbye.

The death of my son allowed me to strip off the cloak and

acknowledge all of my weaknesses, my errors, my falsehoods. And when I laid these things out to those who I had once struggled so hard to get acceptance from, they ran. But others who heard my story drew closer, and I found out that they too were eager to drop the facade of shame.

“The two most powerful words you can hear when you are in a struggle are ‘me too’”

~Brene Brown

Another essential tool for me on the quest to free myself from shame has been to find people who offer me empathy and acceptance. 

Shame can be a very isolating feeling that makes us feel like we are sinking in quicksand, but when we keep our story to ourselves, our profound feelings of self-loathing deepen and we descend further into the sand. 

Finding safe people who will receive our stories and help pull us out of the sand that traps us is an antitoxin to avert shame.

How do we find these people? I encourage you to think of someone in your circle of friends, at your workplace, in your family, or at your place of worship which is accepting, empathetic, free of judgment, and who it just feels good to be around. The person you are likely thinking of is the type of person who kindly remembers when you’ve had a recent death in the family, and when they ask you how you are managing with the grief and loss, you really feel that they care about you. This is someone who it feels safe to share your darkest secrets with because you believe this person will confidently hold your story. When I was a teenager, the first people I really trusted to share my shame and pain with were school counselors, Bible study leaders, and eventually, I opened up to trusted friends.

Dropping the cloak means you get to evaluate and value who you are.

It is crucial in the process of healing the shame we internalize, to start affirming ourselves and our value. I have turned that now favorite Maya Angelou quote on its head and made it into the following mantra:

Take a deep inhale and exhale and then say out loud or inside your head:

I am enough.

I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

Everything is as it should be.

So young people don’t end up like me and waste way too many years trying to prove your worth. You are complete, beautiful, and worthy just as you are.

Instead of being a plastic surgeon who masks and hides shame, I

am now making it my mission to become a soul surgeon. I believe the task of a soul surgeon is to operate on shame through naming our vulnerabilities, surrounding ourselves with people who celebrate us, and making sure we find a voice from within that knows our own worth and value.

We are truly enough. 

Tonight Chris and I will be toasting to being enough with a wine called “Chronology" and another called, "Legacy."  The story of our lives may not always be filled with sound decisions, but sharing how we have overcome them offers a legacy that will last far longer than either of us will. No shame here, only boldness as we go into the best chapters of our lives, those that are free of the burden of making others love us. Cheers