In my last blog, I gave you a peek into my world of toxic thoughts about my body image. But my ability to punish myself didn’t stop there. I was pretty good at beating myself up for most things that happened in my life, not just what the outside world saw. So in the interest of normalizing what so many of us feel shame about, here I go again (Whitesnake reference intended)…
SHAME
When I was 18, I ran for Miss Kamloops (the city I was born and raised in). I won and went on to run for and subsequently win the title for our province, British Columbia. I didn’t enjoy it, I felt like an imposter. I wore my mom’s clothes, did menial things that didn’t seem to make a difference, and forced myself to constantly make small talk with strangers. Fascinating, right? Kill me now. Over time, my attitude must have shown as I was sternly disciplined. I could keep my scholarships, but they did not need me at the last few functions. My mom delivered this news, not with love, but with condemnation. A letter had come for me, addressed TO me, but she opened it anyway. Privacy didn’t mean much with her. She was devastated and so disappointed in me. What would her friends say? Nothing. No one knew. Things like this didn’t happen to me, I worked so hard to be “good”. It was so much deeper than disappointment. At 19, it was my own personal shame. I’m not sure I can explain what exactly went wrong. I’m not sure I even know. Being a pageant winner was never a dream of mine and I never imagined I would win either one of them. When I did, I thought, uh oh, what now? Talk about a fish out of water. I can still feel the hot burn of shame all these years later. What I made that mean about myself. How I’d failed. Failed my mom, the pageant staff, myself. Not many people knew the truth. I was smiling for the cameras and jumping through the hoops. I pretended it didn’t happen. I was mortified.
HUMILIATION
I was raised with a very strong work ethic. Being something WAS something. Get a degree, be accomplished, and be productive. Intelligence was applauded. Strength was expected. Feelings? Not so much. I went to college and got my degree. Then I got married. I worked hard, but never really felt successful. I didn’t have amazing jobs, didn’t make great money, or have much influence. But boy did I try. Then the business that we had hit a very hard spot and after much deliberation, we filed for bankruptcy. I think that time in my life is THE most humiliating. Calling creditors, hearing the judgement cut like a knife. No one could judge me more than I judged myself. How could I be here? I was always so good with money. People like ME didn’t go bankrupt. I remember like it was yesterday standing outside giving the repo man the keys to our truck, while holding my 3 month old son in my arms. SHAME. Like a wildfire inside of me. He was kind, I was mortified. I was a complete and utter failure. I couldn’t pretend this one away.
JUDGEMENT
Oh but I still had some lessons to learn. During this time, finances were tough. I signed up for WIC. For those of you that don’t know, that stands for Women/Infants/Children. If you qualify, you get checks for certain kinds of food like milk, cheese, and produce. If you’ve had any experience with these, you know that you pick out specific food, put it with the matching check and “pay” at the register. Inevitably, something would go wrong or it would take a long time as you had to separate other items out and purchase separately. The checkers would sometimes get frustrated, the people in line behind you would sometimes get irritated, but more than anything, I was riddled with shame. I wanted to disappear. Open a portal and walk through. I had sold a lot of the things in our house for cash, but I still wore my wedding ring. Were people judging me for having a ring on my finger while needing help with groceries? I don’t know, but I was sure judging myself. How did I get here? Mortified.
FAILURE
Then there was Medicaid. I want to be clear, thank God for these programs. But I felt like I was sometimes treated differently when asked what our medical coverage was. Medicaid? Oh, you must be poor, or lazy, or ignorant. I know these programs exist for times like these, but it just confirmed for me that I was the furthest thing from successful. Good thing I went to college. I was embarrassed every time I had to tell the front desk. Honestly, most people probably didn’t even care, but I sure did. It was a reminder of failure. Shame rode along in my pocket during this time in my life. I was on a mission to prove that I wasn’t lazy, or poor, or ignorant. I may still be on that mission even today.
WEAKNESS
Then I went through a divorce. I felt like a failure in my marriage, experienced shame for so many parts of it. By the end, throw in weakness, stupidity, and worthlessness and that sums it up. Feeling like I didn’t belong, like I wasn’t worthy was still part of my story. I’ve written about it at length, so I won’t rehash it here.
COMPASSION
Do I have many more examples? Definitely. Some are too personal to share. But we all have our stories. I look back on much of that time in my life and am grateful for ALL of it. I don’t love to admit this, but I used to judge people that went bankrupt, or when I’d see those weird WIC checks in the line in front of me, or worse yet, those women vying to win Miss this or Miss that. But then I was there, brought to my knees time and again to have experiences that will forever change me. I thought I was failing, but I was gaining new perspectives. I will NEVER be impatient with the woman ahead of me in the grocery store whom is flustered and embarrassed trying to buy cheese and milk and her WIC check is holding her up. I’ve been there and I’ve fought my way back. She will too. I don’t know her story but I can offer compassion and a smile. I didn’t want to be a Miss something, but I was and it was a lot of work. I didn’t feel like I deserved it in the first place. These woman have talents and are driven to make a difference if we give them a voice and a chance. I will stay committed to judging by character rather than by appearance. And there is supposed to be a stigma attached to being divorced. But that’s not necessarily true. I didn’t lose friends and if people look at me differently, I don’t notice, nor do I care. I had the courage to get married, the courage to go through a divorce and the courage to fight for love again. All of these experiences taught me about the human condition. How we feel shame when we falter, how we judge ourselves much more harshly than anyone else possibly could. I’m a different human having gone through all of these lessons.
I am still really hard on myself. I want to excel at things that I do. Like really excel. I’m still a work in progress. But I measure success differently than I used to. Success is the amazing relationships in my life. It is my family growing and thriving and learning valuable lessons. It is love and adventure. This kind of success brings me joy. I no longer think I’m weak, or stupid, or a failure. Do I want to disappear? Quite the opposite. I’ve got a voice now, a light that needs to shine. Shame no longer rides in my pocket. It’s been replaced with love and compassion.
Ready to talk about shame? I’m your gal. Want to see a different perspective? I can help. If you feel like no one will understand or you are all alone, I’ve got you. Together, we’ve got this.
