At 73, I’m the age when people are supposed to be wise elders, passing on their hard-earned insights to younger generations. Yet I’m still vulnerable to what’s called a “shame attack,” where a person is so overwhelmed by a sense of shame that they lose their bearings. The good news is I’m learning how to free myself from the powerful grip of shame within a few hours and get my sturdy self back.
The experience of shame is so intense and visceral that I can’t always pinpoint exactly what is going on. Recently, though, I was able to figure out what it was and label it.
Naming is a way of framing the experience as separate from me: No matter how powerful it is, I am not the shame that is coursing electrically through my body. Once I can call it what it is, I’m still shaky, but the ground is within sight. Here’s what else I did that day that I now know will help me move past it.
Simple, calming tasks help ground me in the moment
My shame attack happened at lunch when I got furious with my husband at a restaurant. We live in Mexico for part of the year, and in my experience, people here are very polite and do not express strong emotions — especially anger — in public settings. I felt so embarrassed by my loud, visible outburst, especially as a foreigner.
Back home, I decided to do a few small, simple tasks that would help ground me, and one of them was brushing my teeth. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I remembered watching my sister sit up in her hospice bed on the last night of her life and vigorously brush her teeth. That she took care of herself with such dedication when she had only a few hours left deeply inspired me.
Then I flossed, not in the sloppy, half-assed way I often do, but with granular precision. I kept musing on the line, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” These routine, unhurried tasks helped to steady my unquiet mind.
Writing in my journal feels healing
I sat down in my comfortable chair in the living room and wrote for about 20 minutes. I believe the psyche heals faster in motion, and my fingers scribbling across a page is a form of movement.
I’m ashamed of the very public fight I picked with Barry at the restaurant. I turned into a loud, pouty two-year-old. I was territorial and stupid after he grabbed my bread. But he should’ve asked!
Big sigh. OK, there it is, it’s all out on the page, the healing, freeing page that accepts, hears, receives.
A few days later, as I read the passage, I couldn’t figure out why I felt so bad. A petty argument? So what? But I was under an enormous amount of stress that week because my frail 101-year-old father was undergoing kidney surgery. No wonder my anxiety leaked out somewhere. Shame isn’t rational.
Talking to myself kindly gets me through tough moments
Later that afternoon, I went on a walk on my favorite street in Guanajuato, the town where we live, and talked to myself internally. “Sweetie, what you’re going through is not your fault. It may feel personal, but it isn’t. You’re wired to experience it occasionally. Remember, shame served a useful function for your ancestors.”
Several times, I put my hand on my heart and said, “Hey, I’m sorry you’re hurting. How can I help?” Each time, I felt myself softening. It’s taken me years to learn, but I know when I’m going through a hard time, I need to be compassionate with myself.
Admiring the moon reminds me to appreciate something outside myself
Before going to sleep, I looked out the window and saw the moon high in the sky, her crescent shape glowing in the darkness. So creamy and lustrous! I felt in some strange way that she was reaching out and comforting me.
Admiring a thing of beauty helped me remember that even if I didn’t like myself at that moment, I could appreciate other things, and that was a start.
Shame feeds off secrecy, and talking to others helps me release it
Bestselling author Brené Brown maintains what most of us intuitively know: shame is universal. “We all have it,” she said in a 2013 TED Talk, “but no one wants to talk about it.”
She’s right, I sure didn’t want to talk about it. In my broken state, I was ashamed of feeling shame. Layer upon layer! I know I’m not the only person on the planet who experiences it, but when shame consumes me, I feel uniquely worthless.
Later, I was able to share my experience with two friends. But not at the moment.
I’ve realized that shame isn’t an adversary I can fight directly; rather, the only way out is through. Small steps, like brushing and flossing my teeth, help. What I know at 73, which I didn’t know at 7, is that it doesn’t last. Like storm clouds, the shame will pass.
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