Most of my life has been spent
outside the lines, being a bit different and not fitting into the averages. My
early years are a story of traveling, living in cars, hotels, horse ranches,
orange orchards and other bizarre places.
We never lived in one place very long, we didn’t stay long enough to
make friends and the constant transitions meant I never really fit in anywhere
I went.
Throughout my life, the pain of
this this uniqueness paid off in many ways
and most days I am proud of my stance in my beliefs and my ability to be
different from others. The silver lining
in my odd childhood was I had traveled through most states by the time I was in
middle school and geography was a cinch, since I had been through the map
several times over. My ability to be
different and unique has been a solid foundation many times in life, but the
fear and aloneness that comes with it can be painful. Sometimes I find myself on the brink of
melting into the crowd so I can belong and be liked.
Most of us have a painful experience
or two from childhood that sticks with us because of the emotional intensity it
leaves in its wake. If that statement made
you think back to one of these, you probably felt it somewhere in your
body. Your chest tightened, maybe your
face flushed, your shoulders tensed. You
felt that hot pit in your stomach. It
might have been a word or more from someone, it might have been a disagreement,
and it might have been a comment from an adult or teacher. One of my experiences was walking into yet
another new school and starting new classes with new faces. I was in eighth grade, and on top of dealing
with the awkwardness that comes with that age, my clothes were not cool and it
was the only set I had. My uncoolness
radiated from me as I slipped into a seat and tried to stay off of anyone’s radar. It never worked. Within minutes I was overwhelmed with the heat of
shame that comes from knowing you don’t belong and never will. The things the boys said to me have faded,
but the feeling in my stomach, my heart, my head remain vivid. I have come to
know them as the red flags of shame. I know
the feeling and to this day it triggers
a hot angry response in me. The shame of
not being good enough, the shame of comparing yourself to others and falling
short.
The pain and anxiety of being
different from others is tough to step into and it takes courage to endure this
with grace and dignity. Back then, in
eighth grade I wasn’t so good at it. Up
to fifth grade, I hid from those kinds of taunts. After that I discovered fighting and the power
it had, back then the only power I could find.
Growing up with two brothers and a hard ass father I was good at fighting. I learned that I got
immediate respect when I kicked the ass of the boys who taunted me. It didn’t mean I fit in but people did leave
me alone. Not exactly the result I wanted
but the taunting usually stopped.
As an adult, after years of work and brutal self-reflection I began
to learn to tolerate the pain and stand by my beliefs and to let go of what people
thought. I learned the courage of
standing tall but proud in the face of bad behavior and after years of practice
I got much better at not taking it personally.
I still intensely dislike feeling
uncertain, and I try like hell not to be rejected. Welcome to the human race I guess. I have amazing friends and am so incredibly
grateful for them, yet I’m cautious and have to push myself to take the risk,
taking the chance of being hurt. I feel the
weight of the gamble, and the chance of feeling stupid aka shame for being a
sucker. Because if I get hurt that is
what I am right? How many times have you
thought that very thing? Said those
words to yourself….”I am so stupid” , “
I knew better” , “ How many times do I have
to get hurt” …..
As an adult who has accomplished
some good things in life, I still find myself standing on the fringes many
days, not sure where I fit in and feeling as though I don’t.
I want to belong and in some ways
I do, certainly more than I ever thought possible in my younger years. I have gained enough confidence and self-worth
that I no longer come out swinging to
shame and rejection. Nor do I shrink
back and make myself invisible. Both are
still tempting and at times instinctive for me, but discipline practiced year
after year have helped break this pattern.
Today I felt the sting of shame
deep in my stomach and the worst part is
I didn’t realize it was shame until hours later. I felt the anxiety of being different, of not
belonging, of standing by my beliefs but even more of standing up for myself
and my own importance. I forgot today
that this is courage, because I still think of courage as feeling strong and
powerful. In fact, courage today felt
small and anxious and uncertain and different and scary and alone. Courage didn’t feel big to me today, it was
painful emotions and I struggled to take responsibility for those emotions let
alone be responsive to them. Brene Brown
defines the first step one of being wholehearted as letting go of what other
people think. Being wholehearted is
ironically enough the opposite of shame. I was humbled today by how little progress I have
made in life in my childlike desire to be liked, to belong, to be approved of and
to fit in. I spent entirely too much
time today on other people’s opinions which meant I didn’t honor my own emotions or honor my courage to be different and true to
my principles.
The lesson from this isn’t entirely
clear yet, and whatever it is will be challenging to face in it’s
entirely. It will mean standing out, and
standing up. It will include painful
moments no doubt but that is usually the most valuable lesson. If strength,
character and courage come from tolerating this type of pain, the pain of not
belonging, it was something I developed early on in life. It is hard to step
into the pain and accept that its part of the experience and part of my choice.
