Freedom from Shame

I'm listening to The Soul of Shame by Curt Thompson. I've never thought of myself as a person who struggles with shame. But as I'm taking in Dr. Thompson's ideas, based on the study of interpersonal neurobiology, I realize much of the suffering I have caused myself (and others) is due to unrecognized shame.

Example: I was on hormone replacement for hot flashes for six years and also enjoyed my wine and hard kombucha. Did I set myself up for breast cancer? Why didn't I just tough out the hot flashes? Why did I think I needed alcohol? Why didn't I do enough to prevent myself from getting breast cancer?

See what I mean. That is shame.

As Thompson says, shame is not just a feeling. It is an embodied reality that becomes woven into the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.

It's not enough to look at past actions and say, "Hmmm, maybe I could have made different choices for a different outcome." Shame says quite literally--"Shame on you! You SHOULD have done better. What's wrong with you?"

In the first days after my breast cancer diagnosis, I felt shame for letting my kids down. I never want to be a cause of worry for them due to health issues. I know the fear and pain of watching my mom smoke all my life, somehow knowing even as a young child that it was making her sick, and ultimately watching her die of lung cancer. So I do all the things -- exercise, eat nutritious foods, meditate, try to get enough sleep (that's a tough one for a natural-born night owl!). And yet, I've given them a reason to worry. Shame on me!

Let's talk puppy training. I have tried all the methods for leash pulling and jumping. Yet we still have some jumping and leash pulling. I can't just say, "Oh, well, I just wasn't consistent enough, but that's ok. This is good enough." Instead -- shame on me for not being more consistent and training my dogs better.

Let's go back to the publishing of my first book Days of Whine and Noses--Pep Talks for Tuckered Out Moms. My book was in Target, Barnes & Noble, and other stores across the country. I SHOULD have done more to capitalize on that opportunity. I had three boys and a toddler to raise, but in my mind, I SHOULD have been able to do it all and make it look easy. What's wrong with me that I couldn't make that happen? Shame on me.

As a human, I come by shame honestly. It's just built into us, some of us more than others. My upbringing in a very conservative evangelical tradition helped reinforce a foundation of shame that kept me in line and ensured I would be a good girl. There's nothing wrong with making choices that are congruent with your values and beliefs. That is a good thing. Where things go sideways is when you begin to tell yourself that no matter what you do, you're probably doing something wrong, could do something better, or are certainly not living up to whatever subconscious (or conscious) standard you've set for yourself. That is shame.

Decades after the fact, I can still remember vividly a couple of scenarios that laid down some pretty solid groundwork for shame in my life.

I was a young teenager enjoying a week at church camp. The girls and boys had to swim separately because, you know, one minute you're in the pool together, the next you're raising twins. I was waiting outside the boys' cabin for the boy I liked to come out so we could walk together to his pool session. The coordinator of the camp approached me, and with all sincerity, said, "Young lady, this is a good way to lose your Christian testimony." If I knew then what I know now, I would have laughed and said...well, I won't say what I would have said. But back then, as a young girl who loved Jesus, took my faith seriously, and cared deeply about pleasing God, I took his words to heart. I really liked boys. And by that I mean, I was boy crazy! In the most innocent of ways, but still. There must be something wrong with me. I shouldn't be waiting for this boy outside his cabin. I shouldn't be liking boys this much at all!

One Sunday evening, I was set to sing a "special" at church. Yes, back in the day, I went to church on Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings for youth group. And, for good measure, about once a month, I went to a youth group "rap session/prayer meeting" or a CA (Christ Ambassadors) rally. I showed up that Sunday night, loving Jesus, grateful for the opportunity to sing about His love, and praying I could be a blessing to someone. There was just one problem. The music director, again, with all sincerity, informed me I would need to stand behind the piano to sing because I was wearing slacks. Today, I would offer some choice words in response to his correction. Back then, I had a sinking feeling. I had done something wrong. How could I have worn pants to church when I knew I was going to sing for Jesus? What is wrong with me?

That is shame.

I hate to say it, but I'm sure I have unknowingly shamed my kids and my husband through the years. Shame on me for that!

See, the shame cycle never ends. Or does it?

This is where grace steps in. Grace is the antidote for shame.

Grace is a hard pill for us to swallow. I'm not talking about grace just for the choices we make that we know are flat out wrong. I'm talking about grace for being human. For making human mistakes. For doing dumb things when we didn't mean to do those dumb things, but we couldn't do better until we knew better. For all the ways we judge ourselves harshly for not measuring up. For not being...perfect.

As Brene' Brown says, "Where perfectionism exists, shame is always lurking."

I like to think in pragmatic terms. What can I do to rid myself of this pervasive sense of shame?

First, acknowledgment.

I have known forever that I tend to feel guilty for things -- not returning a library book on time, hitting a parked car (even though I always leave a note), wearing pants to sing for Jesus. But it wasn't until I was listening to The Soul of Shame that I was able to excavate the roots of this pattern. When I pulled them up and examined them in the light of day, it became clear -- this is shame at work.

Second, shine a light on the truth.

Shame is mostly counterproductive (there is a place for healthy shame, but that's not the context I'm talking about here) and not at all in line with what I believe about Christ---the embodiment of love and grace. How must his heart be grieved when I beat myself up for being human? My core belief is that God is good, loving, merciful, gracious, present, and FOR me! That is not at all congruent with pervasive shame.

Third, practice patience.

A lifelong framework of shame won't be disassembled overnight. I will be patient with myself along the way. When I experience that feeling of shame in a given situation, I will ask myself, "Is there a legitimate reason for me to feel this way? Have I done something that has hurt someone and merits an apology or amends?" If not, if I'm just beating myself up for being human, I will label shame for what it is and invite grace into the process. Actually, either way, I will invite grace to do its deep work. I will pray. I may journal. I may do some meditation. I will read scripture and other inspirational material. I will remember that I'm doing the best I can.

How has shame shown up in your life? Is it a pervasive pattern? How has it affected your health? Your relationships?

Today can be fresh start. Recognize shame for what it is. Shine the light of truth on it, and be patient with yourself as you invite grace into the process. Show shame the door, and rest in God's unconditional love for you.