The first time I remember being embarrassed was in the 4th grade.
My mother had decided I’d be better off in another classroom and transferred me after the second week of school (what could possibly go wrong!?), which meant I was the new kid.
I remember we were asked to read a section of a particular book during Mrs. Costuma’s English block. I was paying about as much attention as any 10 year old, when all of a sudden she called on me to share what I had learned from the reading. I hadn’t raised my hand, and had never been put into a situation like this before. While I had read the passage my 4th grade mind, gripped by the sheer panic of the situation, drew a complete blank!
I went numb. I could feel my face reddening, my heart pounding, and my skin starting to sweat. Surely this was it: it had been a good 10-year run, but this was where it all ended.
Luckily the merciful Mrs. Costuma, who ended up being one of my all-time favorite teachers, took pity on me and turned to another student, allowing me to recover from my ordeal.
Seeing that I was only 10 years old, I didn’t know how to fully process, or even understand, the embarrassment I had felt. I just knew it was a painful feeling to be avoided. However, because I didn’t come to terms with the emotions I had felt, they stuck with me. Throughout my life, whenever I didn’t have an answer or couldn’t think of what to say, I instinctually fell silent.
This paired quite well with my introverted personality; instead of drawing any attention to myself, I would see how invisible I could possibly become. I got pretty good at it too, I think I would make a wonderful ninja.
Later on, when I began learning Nonviolent Communication (NVC), I realized I was one of those students who honestly could not identify what I was feeling.
Others seemed to so easily express their frustration, elation, confusion, or joy. For some reason, unknown to me at the time, I just didn’t have access to that place. Where others felt this entire spectrum of complex emotions, I just felt...numb.
Now, if you read my post last month (which I encourage you to do! No worries, I’ll wait….) you may recall that it wasn’t until I fully reflected on my origins, on how my family processed emotions as I grew up, that I began to understand where the numbness came from.
Since the statute of limitations for blaming my parents had expired, the only remaining option was to do the hard work and reclaim those numbed feelings. I vividly remember the first time in my 40-something years finally saying out loud to someone: “I’m embarrassed about that.”
The response was the socially mandated, “Don’t feel embarrassed.” I made sure to quickly retort (much to her surprise):
“Actually, I want to feel that way!”
Here’s something I’ve learned about my habit of avoiding embarrassment: It’s kept me smack dab in the middle of my comfort zone for most of my life.
If I don’t make mistakes, if I don’t take risks and possibly do the ‘wrong’ thing, then I can avoid the face flushing, heart pounding, skin sweating, painful experience that 10-year-old me learned all too well in Mrs. Costuma’s 4th grade class. I don’t have to confront that fear and that panic, the memories of all the embarrassing experiences I numbed out.
I also don’t grow.
I know that I have missed out on valuable life lessons, on wonderful experiences, by not trying something new for fear of not understanding or not belonging. There are opportunities where I could have spoken out, maybe even impacted people’s lives, but chose to remain silent. All for fear of embarrassment.
Recently I ventured boldly into the uncharted waters of embarrassment by sharing some vulnerability in a meeting. I felt that full flush of embarrassment with all (Zoom) eyes on me, but instead of trying to suppress it I simply allowed it to be, without wishing it to be any differently.
And guess what? I didn’t die!
It simply passed through me, and I was able to put myself out there like never before.
In his poem “The Guest House”, Rumi reminds us to treat each feeling as an honored guest in our home, a guest that offers us ‘a new delight’. Befriending this particular emotion, this newly welcomed guest, has delighted me with more freedom of expression and the courage to more fully be myself.
Ever since COVID-19 broke out, I have found myself hoping and wishing for more courage. However, these recent experiences have taught me something profound: I had every ounce of courage I could ever need right there with me all along.
It was just waiting on the other side of embarrassment.