Are We Living Shame-Based Lives?

To my agemates, those of us in the elite group of people born in the fantastic year of 1990? How are you doing? As we are all entering our 35th year, I believe we have unlocked a new level of adulting that we would have happily declined if we could take a preview into the future. There are so many things I am grateful for in this stage in my life – most notably an increase financially. I certainly do not wish to transport back to the time I was making single digit dollars per hour to hand out flyers to strangers on the streets of Philadelphia.

With the financial increase has also come responsibility increase. As time has passed, it appears we are all now eligible to go through actual hardships in life. I used to think not getting that internship was intense disappointment, not enjoying that first date was earth-shattering, or not getting a valentine’s day bouquet was devastating. Now in this stage in my life, I have experienced real disappointments. My friends and I find ourselves exchanging bombs of sad and good news when we meet.

But.. you see.. my issue isn’t that we are sharing interesting news.. my issue is with the timing we are choosing to share this news. I am finding that we are sharing these events towards the end of the trials. I am hearing about green card approvals after two years of displacement. I am hearing of divorces after years of separation and the documents have been signed. This is not judgement on my friends because I am also guilty.

I am sharing about a breakup after months of instability, I am sharing a state of residence after living in multiple states. I, TOO, am keeping unnecessary secrets.

But why are we doing this? Why are we hiding the process of the struggle from the people we are supposed to be leaning on during the struggle? If the person you are dating or married to is posing a problem to your mental health, if your job has been frustrating your life and feeling highly insecure, if your health has been up in the air for months…… why would we continuously respond to “how are you?” messages with “I am good!”.

Once again, I am guilty of this. I am in no way judging or implying that folks should remove the lid off the privacy they deserve.

But I do wonder how much of us are hiding the real facts due to SHAME?

Why are we ashamed of a tough season? Why do I feel embarrassed that a relationship had to end due to issues that would be compounded by marriage? Why do we feel ashamed that the economic realities of the country might be confronting us and our jobs might feel insecure? Why do we feel embarrassed that we might be going through a season of displacement? How many of us moved forward with that relationship because we were ashamed to go through another breakup?

I have no answers to these questions because I am a willing participant in this game.

I reflected on my the tough times I have recently come out of and I realize that at the heart of my secrecy was a thick layer of shame.

Small story time: I have had close friends gather around to send me off to my next adventure in Toronto – the 10th city I’d be moving to in a year. WOW, RENNY THE ADVENTURER. We danced, we ate, and they wished me a merry adventure in Canada. They assumed that I was happily going up North. What I did not tell them was it was not by choice. All the gallivanting about was not necessarily a choice. As part of a tedious immigration process to the US, I was required to live and work outside of the country to maintain my legal status. For 2 years, many friends assumed that I was romantically traveling outside of the country as part of an “eat pray love” experience. While I was indeed having the time of life, I was also shedding the largest batches of tears in my whole life. By day, I was enjoying a food tour in Puerto Vallarta but by night I was waiting for Immigration to tell me when I would be able to enter the country. But when my some friends would FaceTime me to see how I was doing, I would only share about the fantastic mezcal tasting I attended earlier that day. All because of what? Shame.

Why would I be ashamed of something happening to me that I did not cause? Why did I deprive myself of real support? Yes, there is the risk of ridicule – but whoever ridicules me isn’t my friend then right?

At the end of the day, I can admit that shame has been holding me back from trying to many things in my life. Here I am… I have accidentally built a platform based on comedy that lightly touches on the serious challenges women like me face in dating and navigating being single in a society where being single over 30 is leprosy. I know I could be leading more serious discussions about these topics. I know I am eloquently gifted enough to do it (humble brag, thanks). And through the growth of my platforms, I know there is someone out there who would value what I have to say. Yet, I feel a touch of shame when I think about what I have to share. Why did I have to walk away from another relationship? Why did I have to be displaced for so long? Why is it that I have stories to share in the first place?

I am working on flipping this line of questioning. I am fortunate to have many stories of trials where I came out victorious. I am blessed to be able to tell stories of relationships where I was presented with the opportunity to move forward, but I had the foresight to walk away. I am fortunate to have been able to successfully navigate the US immigration system and still fulfill my dreams of traveling. I am blessed to have been able to glean wisdom from all that I learned while living in obscurity. Why would I let shame hold me back?

This year I am working on freeing myself from the spirit of shame. I cannot allow shame dictate how I navigate my friendships. I cannot internalize shame to the point that I am feeling embarrassed when disappointments come, as if I merited tough seasons. I cannot let disappointment take up so much of my identity that I feel inclined to line when the people I love inquire about my well-being. I invite you, wonderful reader, to join me on this journey.