story time
“You should’ve known better and handled that situation differently.”
That’s all it took. I was suddenly neck-deep in my own shame story that was already scaffolded by dozens of my own “shoulds” when this frustrated accusation was lobbed at me.
My face got warm with shame and I held my breath. Too tight to cry, my jaw, chest and fists solidified their resolve against the perceived attack. From its contracted state, my body chose fight and then flight mode. I started with a venomous defensive reply then exited the confrontation to a quiet space. In solitude, the heavy feelings of unworthiness surrounded me like a dense, dark fog. I didn’t want to feel my feelings that felt worse than physical pain. Tears of anger tried to soothe the shame to no avail. Along with defensive anger, I tried distraction, numbing and a perennial favourite of mine, a pity party.
I’d like to say that I handled the highly-charged encounter with emotional elegance but I didn’t. It wasn’t until a few days later that I finally said to myself “The story I was telling myself was…”. There were many stories.
I’m not intelligent enough to know how to effectively handle every situation
I’m too easily overwhelmed under pressure causing inconvenience for others
My incompetence will lead to being unreliable and, ultimately, being left alone
Looking at these decades-old stories from a compassionate distance, I allowed the shame of incompetence to rise to the surface. Digesting the shame and letting it flow through me was an act of compassion for the child in me who did not feel safe to express feelings. With a warm neck and face, I wrapped myself in a large, comforting scarf, added a gentle sway to my body, and invited some softness in the tight areas. Over time, with the gentle movement, silence and self-care, my nervous system settled and I felt cared for.
In the softness of self-compassion, I realized that my stories served me at some point in my life, maybe for safety or security reasons or even for survival. But these stories no longer serve me and can keep me stuck in an angry defensive emotional position in a tight, contracted body. The unchecked tightness could muffle my body’s messages and lead to dis-ease in my body.
Instead of resetting myself to my factory settings that would erase my feelings and stories, I’m practising digesting and processing the feelings that I would rather numb than feel.
When I am easily irritated, feeling shame or defensiveness, I know that an old story is trying to take centre stage. Pausing, noticing and letting the story come to light to feel the difficult feelings and digesting what comes up has proven to let the air out of the stories’ tires. No more power.
Recognizing my body’s signals that a story has been activated allows me to rewrite the story to recognize how capable I am, even with mistakes, to navigate all that life puts in front of me.
I got this! Until next story time…
