Once again, I’m appalled that I haven’t written on my own blog in forever. But, hey...here I am….thinking about shame and authenticity and trust and how sometimes it’s good for people to let you know they’re not your people. Heavy thoughts for 6:30 in the morning when they actually started swirling around in my head.
I had the good fortune to wake up this morning at the beach. I took full advantage of not being responsible for getting kids to school or walking the dog or taking care of anyone except myself and walked out to the beach to watch the sunrise and get in a sunrise yoga practice.
I can’t recommend sitting alone on the beach watching the sun rise highly enough. If you ever have the chance, do it.
The whole experience for me was not only calming, restorative, and invigorating, it was a chance to be in quiet and solitude and allow some residual thoughts and emotions from something that happened yesterday bubble up and drift away.
As I was going through my sun salutations and listening to and following my body to see which poses she needed this morning, I found myself fighting the urge to try getting into bakasana or crow pose. I’ve been trying to get into crow for a long time and just struggled. Then, I realized that I needed to focus on building core strength and made a commitment to myself to make sure I got consistent about adding poses that help build the core. So...at the end of my practice when I continued to feel the urge to try, I did...and even though I only held it a few seconds, getting into the pose felt comfortable and I did it without doubting myself. Halle-freaking-lujah!
But the whole time I was replaying something that happened yesterday. It was just a little thing...I posted something totally innocuous (at least I thought it was) and someone reacted critically. Then a few more people piled on and suddenly I wanted to sink through the floor. My face burned with shame and my heart with fury. I was so angry at these women for publicly reprimanding me for what was intended as an act of kindness that I questioned why I was part of this particular group to begin with. The thing is, the point they wanted to make was fine. They weren’t wrong...it was the way they told me I had made a mistake that got to me. Every one of them responded in a bossypants, know-it-all, bitchy way intended to make me feel stupid. And for a few hours, I found myself sloshing and roiling and rolling around in the thick, slimy goop of shame they poured over me. These women chose to make themselves feel high and mighty at my expense. But that realization didn’t come to me quickly.
It took a night sitting on a porch, breaking bread and sharing wine and laughing until I couldn’t breathe with a group of women whom I’ve known throughout these last several chapters of growth, women whom I trust…. It took a pre-dawn walk to the edge of the ocean where I meditated and watched the sun rise then did my yoga practice for me to understand what happened. And then, as I was standing on my yoga mat asking myself why I let myself feel so yucky and ashamed over the words of virtual strangers (and the “likes” of their rude comments by more than a few people I’ve actually met), I remembered Brené Brown’s talk on shame. As well as one she gave on trust.
Brown says “Shame is the most powerful master emotion. It’s the feeling that we’re not good enough.” It’s a feeling I grew up in and I’ve talked about that before...growing up the child of a poor, unwed mother in the near-rural South in the 1970s is pretty much the definition of shame and unworthiness.
But...Brown also says, “If we share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive,” and “...the very best thing to do in the midst of a shame attack is counterintuitive: practice courage and reach out.” And I realized that I’ve shared that shame from my past with people I loved and trusted and that it really is truly gone for me. It burned up in the love and grace they showed me. What I felt yesterday was an echo of those feelings of being unworthy and as hot-face humiliated as I felt in the moment, those feelings were a powerful force that brought me to a startling realization.
It hit me like a ton of bricks as I worked through all this on my yoga mat. As I was feeling my body push me in certain directions...a deeper down dog, bow pose, warrior three, a revolved chair pose, wheel...and ultimately into bakasana, I thought how can I be so comfortable knowing what my body wants and needs and remain so clueless about my heart and spirit.
For a few weeks now, I’ve felt a divide and disconnect with some people – not real life friends really, more acquaintances. They haven’t done anything to me, but I just realize we’re never going to be close. Yet...these are the very people, at least some of them, I felt were publicly shaming me for something that was totally not something to condemn someone for.
This morning, I realized that disconnect and the feelings of irritation I experience when they share self-righteous posts and humblebrags...those feelings are telling me “these are not your people.” I’ve just been resistant because...well...because I’m a Type 2 and in my core I want everyone to like me. What I know, but forget sometimes because growth doesn’t always happen without stops, starts, and some backtracking, is that I don’t need everyone to like me. It’s okay if they don’t. And it’s okay if I decide I don’t like them. They’ll live. So will I.
As much as this experience caused me a few uncomfortable moments, I’m really grateful for the lessons it held. It offered a great reminder to value true friends and to tell them how much they mean. It also reminded me to check in with my heart and head a little more and actually listen to what they have to say. The next time they tell me, “Girl, they’re not your people,” maybe I’ll listen.”
Here near the end of the day as I’m getting ready to pour a glass of wine and go watch the sunset with my people, I just thank God for beaches, Brené Brown, bakasana, good friends, and lessons learned.
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