I felt the familiar shame settle on me. I circled it before deciding to take it on. But when I did, it fit well. Like it had never been taken off. The old people pleaser in me had rebelled and it was uncomfortable. Shame was soothing this discomfort.
The dichotomies of my personality are subtly inappropriate. I love social gatherings, but only in short spurts. I love to be around others because they fascinate me, but I tire quickly of having to interact. I'm opinionated and can't help but be confrontational, but I'm also overly concerned about disappointing people. I'm impulsive and make decisions from my gut, but I overthink them until I have justified my behavior. I'm recklessly logical and logically carefree. Sigh.
I have been the unhealthy, people pleasing version of myself most of my life. I desperately needed people to tell me what to do ... even if I didn't listen, and mostly I didn't, I was desperate for their input.
We all settled into our roles over the years. Rebekah was the unhealthy, sick person in need of others' wisdom and care, and they were the strong ones who were always more "together".
But eventually, the gig is up. And you realize that you are the only YOU in the world. And you must make decisions that suit YOU. Because other people's shoes just don't fit right.
I have shouldered a lot of shame about who I was most of my life. Nothing is more of a buzzkill than shame. It creates doubt when there should be none. It nurtures guilt and secrets. Shame single-handedly dictates decisions and leaves the vessel marred and wounded.
My bestie sent me a podcast that she knew I would eat up. Brene Brown was answering the question of how to handle shame in your children. I have one who functions from a place of shame and one who is oblivious to it. Her answer was to normalize failure and discomfort. I love this.
Humans are the epitome of failure. We're not supposed to get it right 100% of the time. We are wired to need others to fill in where we are weak. For some reason we continuously fight this. But this should be our greatest accomplishment. We need others and there is nothing more beautiful than connection with another human.
But instead of celebrating our deficiencies, we shame them into submission. Instead of proudly airing our imperfections, we hide them in the basement. Like the Babadook.
Thankfully, old age is weeding out the inauthentic. I no longer have the patience to pretend to be someone else. Nor do I have the time to feed the beast in the basement.