The Shame Wagon

The Shame Wagon.  What in the world am I talking about?  Shame.  And a wagon.

By now, if you’ve read any of my recent posts, you know I’m on this self reflection, digging deep, looking at myself in the mirror place in my life.  And I’m talking that special mirror, the one that shows you not just the reflection of your face, but also shows the depths of your heart, mind and soul.  Yeah.  That one.  That mirror is scary.  Intimidating. And…it can be shameful.

So what’s with this shame wagon and why am I talking about it?  Well, I’m learning some powerful stuff in the Brené Brown e-course that I’m taking called The Gifts of Imperfection.  As part of this course, I am reading her book by the same name.  If you are looking to do some digging within yourself, I strongly suggest picking up this book.  Anyhoo…Brené Brown calls herself a shame and vulnerability researcher and thus, shame is a thoroughly covered topic in her book.

The topic of shame has really struck a chord, hit a nerve – since reading her book. Suddenly, I’ve realized that my whole life has been infused with shame.  I just hadn’t put that label on it.  And dammit…I’ve been shaming my son.  And I didn’t realize it.  I wasn’t trying to do it.  But I’ve done it.  And even more concerning, is that my son does it to himself.  ALL. THE. TIME.  He is good at it, too good at it.

Did I teach it to him?  Unknowingly, did I teach him to shame himself, to think himself unworthy?  He’s so hard on himself.  All of the time.  Then I got to wondering.  What came first?  With his mental illness that has included anxiety, depression and mood disorders…does the shaming come as a result of the mental illness?  Or did it cause the mental illness?  What is the relationship between the two?

One thing is for certain, we all have it…shame.  We have to, we’re human.  But some of us might live with it more readily than others.  You know what I’m talking about…the feeling of being small or unworthy, devalued or flawed.  You’ve felt that at some point in your life, right?  Maybe last week, maybe yesterday.  Maybe even right now.  That feeling you’re having of being insignificant or that you don’t matter?  That…that is shame.

So what if we all started being more aware of these feelings within ourselves and made a point to minimize its hold on all of us?  That is what I’m trying to do.  I’m clearly no expert on shame, but I have it.  I’ve lived it.  And reading this book, taking this course has caused me to evaluate the role it plays in my life.  So why not share it, share my experience in hopes that it gets others thinking?  Maybe together, we can minimize the shame!

Yesterday, I was reading Brené’s book for this course in the parking lot of my son’s school while waiting for him to finish his safety patrol duty.  As he skipped to the car, he saw me with highlighter in hand, reading intently.

He hops in the car, “Is that for your class mom?  Your reading you have to do?”

“Yep Noah, it is.”

“Why are you highlighting?” he asks as he throws all his school gear into the car.

“Well, because there are really good points in this book that I want to remember.  It’s teaching me a lot.  In fact, I think there are some things that would be helpful for you to hear too.  I’m learning that we are all imperfect…and that’s okay.”

“I’m probably the most imperfect in our whole house, right?” he laughs.  And as he laughs about his comment, my heart breaks.  Did I do this to him?  Why, at eleven years old, does he think he is the most imperfect in our house?  Good God…What. Have. I. Done. To. Him. What?!

“No, Noah…we are all equally imperfect.  Perfectly imperfect!  We all make mistakes.  And that’s okay too.”

Later that evening, he wanted to do art together.  So he grabbed some pads of paper and markers and sat down next to me on the couch.  He started drawing a flower and soon after he says, “That sucks.”  Now I see his self shaming all the time.  I notice it more. How do I break him of this? I’ve never looked at his drawings and said they suck or they’re terrible.  Never.  So when I said earlier that I’ve shamed him – it hasn’t been intended shaming with name calling or blatant critiques of his abilities.  But that doesn’t make it any better.  It’s still been there nevertheless.  Even if unintentionally and indirect.

For example, things can be exasperating in our house.  Sometimes, Noah tears through the house like the Tasmanian Devil, a whirlwind of dust and wind as he makes his way from room to room.  The joke has always been that he doesn’t walk anywhere, ever.  He either skips or jumps, runs or gallops.  He’s a kid with endless energy.  Bounds and bounds of it.  And much like Newton’s Law, this energy, once in motion spreads and things get knocked over, broken, etc.  Often, when something gets broken due to Noah’s impulsive actions, my first reaction is to say (ok…yell), “What were you thinking?”

I’ve said that to him for years, many times, without thinking of the possible implications it has had on his sense of self.  I’ve said it, without realizing the shaming I was doing.

So by now we know…I. Am. Not. Perfect. And I could tell you that I said it because I was angry, I was stressed, I was tired, frustrated, crabby, exhausted…depleted.  There have been so many days, months…YEARS…where I was depleted.  But still, the reason doesn’t make it okay.  We all do things without thinking, without realizing the impact.  But now I’m getting awakened to this thing called shame.  And I’m committed to think more.  Live more intently.  And it is helping.  It is working.  This doesn’t mean I won’t make mistakes.  This doesn’t mean that I won’t sometimes slip and still yell, “What were you thinking?”  But when I do, I can immediately apologize to Noah, acknowledge my poor choice of words and let him know that he is loved, he is worthy and he matters.  And I will tell him that I just SHAMED him.  And I didn’t mean to.  WE WILL TALK ABOUT THE SHAME THAT JUST HAPPENED.  I will own it.  And next time, when the, “What…were…” comes out of my mouth, I will stop myself.  And instead I will say, “What just happened.  Are you okay?”  And he will know he matters.  He will know he isn’t small or unworthy.

It doesn’t stop here.  The realization of how I’ve talked to Noah in the past, the whole “What were you thinking?” issue, causes me shame.  I feel shame for being a bad parent.  I feel shame for shaming him!  But the difference is, I’m now aware of it, so I’m switching the shame to guilt.  Because as Brené stated in her book.  The difference between shame and guilt is this:

 

Guilt = I did something bad

Shame = I am bad.

I may be imperfect.  But I am not bad.  I make mistakes.  But I am not a mistake.

Near the end of the current chapter I’m reading in The Gifts of Imperfection, Brené talks about the ability to have shame resilience.  That to move beyond the shame, there are four things we can do:

 

1. Name it
2. Talk about it
3. Own your story
4. Tell the story

This is what I’m trying to do.  Now that I have more awareness about shame and a realization about when and how it happens, I’m just calling it right out.  And I’m going to talk about it.  I’m owning it too friends.  And that might be the hardest part.  Knowing, admitting that I’ve shamed my son and perhaps caused him to feel unworthy is incredibly painful.  But I have to own it.  Because once I own it.  I can change it.  Lastly, Tell the Story.

That’s what I just did.  Because I refuse to be shamed into feeling shame about the shaming I did to my son. And this is exactly the circle I was running in.  No more!

Because, I am worthy.  I am imperfect.  And I am enough.

________________________________________________________________

P.S.  If you want to get on the Shame Wagon (that is – learn how to rid yourself of shame, eliminate your shaming of others and begin to accept your imperfections), I STRONGLY suggest buying The Gifts of Imperfection.  I’ve even linked it up right to Amazon to make it easy!  I just believe in Brené Brown’s work this much.  She has other great books too.  But this is a great place to start.  I’m not going to shame you into buying it.  Promise.  But I don’t think you’ll regret your purchase if you do.