Start the Shame Series from the beginning: here
Once you start to accept that we are all in fact equal, that means you no longer need to prove you have value. You just have it. And it’s not a question of how much value you have either. It’s all the same. It doesn’t fluctuate. There is no hierarchy. You have as much value as any other human life. That means you don’t need to “hustle for worthiness”, and anyway you can’t! You cannot change your intrinsic worth or value. Not through the opinions of other people, not by winning an Olympic medal, or a Pulitzer, or a Nobel Prize, or an Oscar. Not by becoming the president of the United States, nor singing in a rock band, nor marrying Amal Clooney. Not through comparing, or judging, or being perfect. Not even through good deeds, or ab exercises, or making a lot of money. Not even by writing a shame manifesto (oops). I’m not saying we shouldn’t pursue those things. We absolutely should follow our passions. We should endeavour to grow and make the world a better place. As long as we recognize that none of that improves on the fact that we are all the product of stardust and billions of years of evolution and each and every one of us is already a goddamn miracle. Nobody — and I mean nobody — has any say in how valuable you are or are not. Not even you. Especially not you. That isn’t to say that people won’t try to devalue, degrade, judge, or reject you. They absolutely will. But it’s up to each and every one of us to hold onto our intrinsic sense of equality none the less.
That said, we still have to be aware that some people are born with a lot more privilege than others, based on their socioeconomic background, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc. So the playing field is definitely not level. Some people are undeniably more powerful than we are and we need to recognize that they could impact our lives. Some people are less powerful, or fortunate, and may need our support. Some people are way more famous or way more skilled at playing Jenga, if you need pointers. Some people are obviously better at sports or math or being “attractive”, which is worth being aware of. And some people really are experts in their field and it’s in our best interests to listen to them. But we are all still equal in terms of human value. We all share the same near-limitless human potential (given our innate abilities, learning, luck, and hard work). And we are equal in terms of who is “good” and “bad”, which is to say we are all capable of both. And for that reason, no one else has any real, objective authority over us. Not our parents, not our heroes, not our religion, not our Gods, not our priests, not our siblings, not our culture, not our society, not our lovers, not the prime minister, not the president, not the king, not the queen, not the police, not corporations, not rich people, not straight people, not white people, not hot people, not successful people, not famous people, not Kanye West, no one. I’m not saying you should throw all common sense out the window and start breaking laws and ignoring science and become an anti-vaxxing flat earth creationist climate change denier. I’m simply saying: we are all de facto equal, valuable, special in our own way, and of course — the bottom line — we are all therefore innately worthy of love.
And if you can truly let go of the fictional hierarchy of human value, shame finally becomes a bit of a relic. An uncomfortable ache from the past that with the right perspective could actually help bring us together rather than tear us apart. But how could shame possibly bring us together? Isn’t that like the opposite of shame’s whole deal? Yes, but shame is too effective for its own good. The sheer universality of shame ironically undermines its own alienating message. When you feel different, bad, and alone, just remind yourself that in fact everyone else – literally everyone – feels exactly the same way.
The last thing you’re probably expecting from me right now is to get all religious on your ass, but humour me. According to a common interpretation of the Christian bible, it was by eating from the tree of knowledge against God’s will that our symbolic ancestors first developed shame. As a result, they were banished from the Garden of Eden (it’s fitting that this so-called “paradise on earth” was by definition shame free). It is said that Adam and Eve’s shame was inherited by all of mankind as “original sin”. Though this makes all of us intrinsically flawed, in theology this can actually be seen as a good thing. It binds us all together in a shared sense of modesty and humanity. This is where we get the saying, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone”. Of course, thanks to original sin, no one has the moral superiority to cast that first stone, not even babies (as much as I would love to see an army of self-righteous babies roving around stoning people).
This parable betrays the positive side of shame. It encourages us to recognize and admit to one another that we are all imperfect. That we all make mistakes. That we all have weaknesses. And that we all feel shame. By acknowledging this, we are building empathy and mutual respect, and affirming our equality. This kind of universal acceptance, understanding, and togetherness is like the holy grail for a social species like ours. In fact, I suspect the euphoric feeling that people call “spirituality” is actually less about connecting with “God” than it is about connecting with a feeling of universal love, respect, empathy, compassion, and equality with all of humanity.
This is why my boo Brené Brown is always encouraging us to “embrace vulnerability”. When she says “vulnerability” she means purposefully keeping ourselves vulnerable to shame. Brené sees this as the pathway to true human connection. And as social animals, the best feelings we can possibly feel always come from positively connecting with others. Brené says, “We are wired for connection. But the key is that, in any given moment of it, it has to be real.” Real connection only comes from authenticity. Basically opening up and showing your true self, shame and all. Because, if you think about it, you cannot claim to have true connection if no one actually knows who you really are. If you’re just showing people what you think they want to see, that isn’t connection at all. That’s just people pleasing. It’s hiding your true self and essentially lying about who you are. It’s perception over reality once again. And while it used to keep us alive, now it just keeps us miserable. It keeps us feeling disconnected, robbing us of the best feelings that a social animal can feel: connection, belonging, love, joy. But don’t worry, we all do it. I struggle with this all the time. Our misguided desire to hide our imperfect true selves is the plot of most RomComs and every single Shakespeare play ever.
And so to varying degrees, we all know that unpleasant feeling of living a lie. It’s an awfully anxious and unsustainable position, nothing like the wonderful experience of being accepted for who you really are. But to be who you really are requires making yourself vulnerable, because there’s a chance certainty that at some point being who you really are will lead to a big, fat, ugly rejection. No doubt about it. Someone will look at your true, authentic self in all its imperfect glory and say, Nah. And what happens next? The unavoidable instinct of shame kicks in, as always. We may have to weather many rejections on the road to finally finding those people who will love and accept us for who we really are. But when we do, it will all have been worth it. To belong, to truly be seen, to be appreciated, accepted, respected, and loved, these are the very best feelings we’ve got.
So to be your true self is to court shame. This is the big paradox of shame and connection that you never really stop wrestling with. On the one hand, we are trying to avoid shame because its message of “I’m not good enough” stops us from truly connecting with other people. But on the other hand, in order to truly connect with other people, we need to show our true selves, which inevitably opens us up to more shame. So either we stop trying to connect with people in order to avoid shame altogether, or we embrace shame in order to truly connect. Obviously, this isn’t really a choice at all. As Brené Brown warns, in the absence of connection there is always suffering.
For a while, I actually believed I could become a shame-free superhero by forsaking connection and genuinely not caring what anyone else thought of me. It sounds kind of amazing, doesn’t it? To truly “not give a fuck” as they say way too often on the internet. To have the power to do anything you want. No matter what. With no fear of the social repercussions. It’s an appealing thought. But then I realized, if you take this idea to its logical extreme (as I am always want to do), you are actually just becoming a sociopath, not a superhero. To live completely without connection and shame is to be a pathologically selfish, isolated individual with no care or empathy for the feelings of others. Which is not quite as cool as being Batman. And so this got me thinking. If shame truly serves no useful purpose, as Brené Brown asserts, then why does getting rid of it lead to sociopathy instead of salvation?
According to Brené, the antidote to shame is empathy. Which makes perfect sense. If shame is the feeling that you are different, bad, and alone, empathy says, actually we are the same, we are okay, and we are not alone — we have each other. Shame and empathy are like two sides of the same coin. In this way, I suspect that without the instinctual feeling of personal shame we might not be able to develop and maintain a healthy sense of empathy either. Like it’s a kind of balance. Shame being the painful yin to empathy’s soothing yang. Or to quote various cliché fantasy novels, “There can be no good without evil”. And so in this one fundamental way, maybe shame is actually a key ingredient in bringing us together.
Part 5: Shame Resilience, here!
