When shame shatters us
This master emotion can wreak havoc on our emotional circuit board but here's how to dismantle it
Wrapping presents on December 24th this year, my heart was exploding.
Not from joy or excitement.
No. It felt like shrapnel was hitting me, firing from the inside.
Folding paper around each little gift for my few family members sent waves of inadequacy coursing through my emotional body.
This exploding-chest feeling kept on as I wrapped one small gift after another. These weren’t just small-in-size gifts, they were small-in-value gifts. Nominal. Maybe, likely, not important at all. But this is what I had to give.
At first I didn’t really know what it was, those pop-pop-pops firing off inside. It’s a type of feeling you don’t really have to identify to want to squash—throughout human history alcohol or pot or shopping or sex or any other distraction, even if destructive, is more soothing that this exact feeling.
But I kept on wrapping these tiny gifts that just didn’t feel like “enough.” So small compared to how I would usually shop for the holidays.
As I folded the lightly creased wrapping paper from 3 years ago (my parents don’t recycle regular household items but they’ll be damned if they don’t get 5 years’ use out of a single cutting of reindeer emblazoned wrapping paper), I stayed with the pops in my chest, breathing slowly enough to let my mind catch up to what was happening in my body.
Shame.
Well, well, well. This is what shame feels like.
Not to say I’m superhuman and have never experienced shame before, of course I have. It’s just not the most common of my emotional maladies (anxiety is my personal teacher’s pet) and when I’ve had a bout of shame, I usually only notice it later…much later…like a year or so later it dawns on me why I felt so out of sorts or reacted in such a way.
But here we are on Christmas Eve; I wanted to crawl out of my skin and into a gutter, and I already knew why.
Though really, this shame visitor was just a drama queen
This year my family, including my parents, husband, brother and sister-in-law, agreed that we wanted this to be a “smaller” Christmas. We all had our different motivations, some wanted to cut down on consumerism overall and break the cycle of guilt-induced shopping that benefits Amazon more than anyone here. Some wanted to resist more “things” just for the sake of “things.” But my reason was different, I just couldn’t afford it. I had to be real about what the holidays cost and take a big step back.
That decision extended farther that just in gifts under the tree. My husband had suggested weeks ago, as I was furtively trying to throw a holiday collage together on Shutterfly on my phone, that we just skip it this year. I really didn’t want to—we just moved from Virginia a few months ago and I thought this year’s card would be such a great way to show our smiling faces to everyone we’d left. Look! We’re ok! Life is good! WE’RE HAPPY!-!-!
But you know what? I could also just text them a cute pic and say Merry Christmas. Or nothing at all and they could all assume we were fine and they’d be equally pleased to see our faces on a card next year.
What’s interesting is that each of these decisions, and more like them throughout the holiday season, actually made for a lovely, less stressful holiday (aside from that whole emotional assault while wrapping).
That momentary shame spiral aside, I reclaimed more time and less stress and was liberated from the perceived “must-dos.”
And yes, that one moment while wrapping presents could have dismantled my whole vacation, but I got past it by seeing it for what it was. A story I was telling myself; that I wasn’t good enough and what I had to offer wasn’t good enough.
According to Shame and Vulnerability researcher (and my own personal hero), Brené Brown,"Shame is the most powerful, master emotion. It's the fear that we're not good enough."
While shame seems to have this control over our feeble little human psyche—it’s a doozy, riveting our insides and wrecking some of our outside behaviors—I got through this by just letting the feeling stay—like a toddler in a tantrum, I didn’t give it too much attention. I didn’t have to “fix” it.
More importantly, I didn’t have to “fix” me.
I could exist in the perplexing, messy reality of the emotional patchwork quilt we all have inside us: I could feel shame but I could also still be happy. Yes, it could feel like I was cracking inside, but I could still be fully in the joy of my daughter’s second Christmas. Part of this “small Christmas” idea came from the fact that she’s not even 2 yet, so there was no need to go crazy on gifts, just wrap a bunch of small hand-me-downs and enjoy the process of discovery without worrying too much about the “things.”
And for that I was very happy.
Another superb quote from Brené: "If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can't survive."
So here I’ve done it, shared this story with you. Maybe it’s squashing my own seed of shame or maybe it’s helping yours feel seen. In whatever circumstance you’re in, if you’re feeling shame, guilt, sadness, loss or any one of the many emotions in your own unique patchwork quilt, I hope you can let that emotion exist while also stoking positive feelings of strength, safety, and worthiness that you hold within.
Blasting through yuck emotions
If you are feeling an uncomfortable amount of uncomfortable emotions, here’s my tried and true 3-step process to shift out of the yuck and into a more enjoyable mental state:
Ask: What is my fear in this situation? Listen for an answer. It may sound large and bold and absurd. Silly even. But sillier still, realize that just a moment ago we were giving this emotion full license to roam our subconscious and crush our soul. In reality, this fear is a throwaway bit of trash. It’s not real.
Next ask: What is my truth? Because if that fear felt real but was actually fake or exaggerated, then, what is the actual truth hiding beneath the loud negative feelings? Turns out, the truth was always better. It might have been buried, but bringing it out into the light will elevate you.
And, now, make it real. The last step is to take an easy but logical next step that lines up with that truth. Do one thing that feels right when listening to that good, juicy truth.
And I leave you with a quote from a different type of personal hero, Moira Rose, reminding us that we are just beginning. We’re at the start of a new year and there are new possibilities all around, especially when we can break free from old, fear-led ways of thinking.
You are living the exciting new chapter in the book-on-tape of your life.
- Moira Rose, Schitt’s Creek (S4: E7)
New things coming!
Next week I’m introducing a new part of Fierce Resilience….The Show! This will be a regular video newsletter where I take reader questions and dive in to examine some of the biggest topics we’re chewing on.
So, tell me what’s on your mind! What are you curious about as it relates to humans getting through tough times? Send it in or leave a comment and it might be the topic of an upcoming show! Examples that have already come in are, “Can resilience be taught?” and “how do you foster vulnerability in men” (asked by a man!).
Join me next week when we dig in!!
One last thought
Wherever you live, you are probably aware that Los Angeles is on fire, with five different fires burning, some with 0% containment, 100mph winds and depleted water supplies. This is truly horrific. I’m sending as much love as possible to anyone in LA and those of you who have lost your homes, safety and so much more. If you’re interested in helping, here’s a link to a list of resources that can help those in need. And there are a lot in need.
I love this, Mary. Christmas has become complicated for me as I've gotten older, I admit. There is so much wrapped up in this season, especially for mothers, I think. I wrestle with it year after year, and have learned that yes, it really is okay to let some things go if they do not serve you, even if it feels like everyone else is doing it or it's one of those boxes you've always checked (I've skipped a card several times, BTW). I find myself craving a smaller and smaller Christmas, and after reading this, I do think that inclination includes shame at excessive consumerism. I don't like the hollow feeling that creeps up when I realize what a performance it can turn into. It's not Christmas itself, but a matter of tuning out a lot of noise, understanding how we want to feel, and what needs to happen to get there.
This was a wonderful read, and I thank you for your brave, frank vulnerability followed by your words of wisdom. I had a learning moment this Christmas, and it was that my shopping is a result of the shame I felt as a child - of not feeling worthy of receiving gifts. Interesting how these lessons appear later in our lives sometimes.