Freeing Myself from Shame

 

I started an Internet Read-Along for the book I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn't).

We're just one chapter in.  So far the Internet community and podcasts really haven't done anything for me but the book is great.  As a woman growing up in the South I'm well acquainted with shame and shaming.

We even have a special little phrase we use to judge, shame, and blame, Bless her heart.

If you say, "Bless her heart first," then you are free to shame, judge, gossip, bitch, moan, and anything you can think of.  You can even follow up a bad statement with, "Bless her heart" if you think you were particularly cruel.

And since playing nice and keeping up appearances are especially important to us tea swilling southerners I think shame is wide spread epidemic here.

I grew up in a very small town.  Shame was practically spread on bread and served with every meal.  There was an undercurrent of it in everything we were taught.  Don't pull on your dress.  Don't say that.  Don't wear that.  Don't drink that.  Don't get pregnant.  Don't do drugs.  All fine and dany if it weren't for, "the because of what people might think," that followed all those rules.  Whether it was said out loud or not you knew your mama didn't want you wearing that Nirvana shirt because what people might think.  And those people might talk.  And they might tell Nana.  And then what would Nana think.  Letting your child out in public dressed like that.  And then your momma would feel ashamed for not being a better mother.

Give me any situation and I guarantee I can get to shame in seven degrees or less.

As I've begun to peel back the onion of my self awareness I've discovered that way of thinking of teaching your children has poisoned me.  I'm a victim of shame.  I have pools of it from when I was a kid.

To this day I still feel ashamed about something that happened in the 4th grade.

THE 4TH GRADE PEOPLE.  I can recall exactly what I was wearing.  What the teacher said.  What the other kids did for their assignment.  Click my heels and I'm right back in the 4th grade standing up in front of the class lying about why I didn't have my homework.  And the teacher is shaming me.  Mrs. Davis.  Gah.

And that's only one of the things I feel shame for.  Let's not forget the hundreds of others.  And for mostly really minor stuff.  Stuff that shouldn't pack such a punch.

I mean it was one dumb homework assignment.  I still got all A's.  I still managed to graduate high school and go on to college.  Hell, I even have a good job. 

But can I focus on all that?  No.  Just that one time in 4th grade I screwed up.

Shame is a deadly thing.  It cuts you off from all your strengths.  It tells you how stupid and messed up you are.  It doesn't allow for growth or change.

And yet it's everywhere. 

I encourage anyone reading to check out the site and pick up a copy of the book. 

It feels really nice letting go of shame.

-The Paper Doll thinks y'all are beautiful

Comments

[antiplath]

Thanks for posting about this. I *love* the photo (of you?) at the beginning, just gorgeous. Shame does seem even more malicious and pervasive down here in the South, from my experience. Mine wasn't so much in school as it was in the family, esp my dad's family. Now that I'm older, I can see just how screwed up and pathetic most of them are and I say no, I will not be at Grandma's this year for Christmas. And when they ask why, I say it's because y'all are a bunch of hateful, emotionally wrecked, miserable humans who are NOT GOOD COMPANY.

sorry, got carried away. I still remember - that said - this one incident from school in 7th grade when I got really nervous in Science class and couldn't remember an answer, then the teacher busted me for having an answer written on the cover on my text book. She yelled at me in front of the whole class, asked me to explain myself, sent me to the principal's office. It was this huge deal. Looking back, I see that that woman was a miserable, chain-smoking wretch who got her kicks out of humiliating children.

I can't wait to check out the site you linked.

[Lindsey]

This is one of my favorite posts. I have only lived in the South (although some people tell me it's not the true South) for the past 8 or so years and I am still surprised and awed by the "Bless her heart" thing. The pure judgment and the whole "I'm a good Christian and as such would never gossip about ---, but I sure hope --- heard the preacher on Sunday, because he might as well have been talkin' about her." Sometimes, I look around to make sure I'm not on candid camera. Shameful.