[1/30] Shame

This is part of a month-long experiment of trying to write without aiming for an outcome. It's something that I have been wanting to do for awhile now and to keep ourselves accountable, I'm doing this experiment with Sumaer Jolly who's a close friend.

I think shame is the worst kind of pain. It might be how I was raised, but nothing cuts like it. Nothing else hurts me as much.

And it shows up in almost everything. Not making enough money. Making too much. Getting turned on by something you're not supposed to. It hurts so much because it’s not about what you did, it’s about who you are. And suddenly that part of you feels gross. It feels tainted. Like something is fundamentally wrong with you. Like maybe you were just born wrong.

It's because you're naked. You have nothing to hide behind. And it feels like they hate your existence. It's like you say "this is me" and they just laugh. And it's the people you care about that inflicts the worst wounds too. It's your partner, your brother, your mother. Everyone that you thought accepted you for who you are. You can't crawl back into your room or pretend it didn’t happen. You’re right there, bare, with nowhere to hide.

I remember once I painted my nails. Just black. Not some glittery neon pink (not that there's anything wrong with that), just black. I wanted to try it. Thought it looked cool. My aunts saw them and their faces could chased away ghosts. They told my dad and I got a random call from him on the train which turned into a three-hour lecture on how far I'd fallen.

Forget the grades. Forget the engineering degree. Black nails meant I wasn't the son he raised.

I get it, though. Shame keeps people in line. If you drift too far from what’s normal, shame’s how they yank you back. But I’m grateful for the self-acceptance movement and the internet. At least now you can find a group somewhere that reminds you there’s nothing wrong with you. That you’re not broken. That you is just you and that there is nothing wrong with that.

That was years ago. These days, I wear “weird” like a badge. So do a lot of people. It’s not even weird anymore, really. It’s just people finally being honest about who they are. Even if they grew up in the same house. It does make the world more confusing and that has it's own downsides but at least there seems to be more acceptance for weirdness now.