On the shame we know, the self-compassion we need.

Processed with VSCO with f2 preset

I used to laugh and half-roll my eyes when people would suggest I was a perfectionist.  I would smile and internally affirm that those people really didn't know me.  Sometimes I would outwardly disagree. "I don't have to have things be perfect or just right.  I don't get obsessed with details or making things look perfect," I would say.  They didn't know that I half-hazardly cut out papers and pictures to stick into my scrapbook or that I didn't follow the artist's precise teaching during paint-and-wine nights.  They didn't know that my bedroom is often disheveled with covers thrown astray or that I still considered a bowl of cereal to be an adequate dinner. Later, I read a book and took an honest look at myself.  I learned what perfectionism really is. When I read Kristen Neff describe it as a 'compulsive need to achieve and accomplish one's goals with no allowance for falling short of one's ideals,' I immediately felt both validated and surprised.  I wasn't sure how I had missed it after all this time, but it finally captured the stress, anxiety, and worry I experience in pursuit of the things that are most important to me.

 Perfectionism is one of those character traits that is culturally accepted and even encouraged in our society of achievement and efficiency.  It's often considered a strength in someone's character to set unrealistically high standards and work compulsively to achieve them.  We reward high productivity and form our perceptions of people based on what they have accomplished.  The other side of perfectionism, however,  is that when our efforts fall short of the extremely high expectations we place on ourselves, we experience feelings of inadequacy, guilt, or shame. The other side of perfectionism is the deep sense of disappointment and frustration we feel towards ourselves  and the decreased sense of self-worth after making a mistake.  In pursuit of greater self-compassion, I began to more closely notice the shame I experience in my own life.  In the past, it came from the grades I received in school or the papers I wrote in college.  Today, it shows up when I feel like I'm falling short at work or feel that I'm being judged as incompetent. Although we may experience it differently, we all know the pains of shame.  That heavy sinking feeling in the pits of our stomachs or the tightness in our chests.  The tears that well up in our throat and eyes because we feel flawed and inadequate.  The hollowness.  An internal sense of "not-enoughness" or tinges of emptiness that come from how we judge our appearance, weight, mental health, addiction, gender, or race.  It may not be work for you; maybe you experience shame as a mother, in comparing your childrearing abilities to the mothers you see on the screens of your telephone, or the mothers around you. Maybe you look in the mirror, at the size of your pants, or the weight on the scale, and feel this deep sense of embarrassment, dislike, or shame .  This frustration and sense of not being good enough to measure up to society's unrealistic and false sense of beauty.  Maybe you feel like a failure as a provider for your family, or maybe shame shows up when you think about trauma from your past. Shame is the fear we have about someone discovering who we really are and it's the secrets we keep about our deepest vulnerabilities.  It is the effort and discomfort we place on ourselves to mask these feelings of 'not-okay.' I share my shame and try to write about yours because we need to know that it exists for all of us.  Part of being human is about experiencing shame- and part of our growth is learning to be connected by it. 

This is an invitation to be curious about how shame shows up in your life and why.  This is a reminder about the importance of getting to know yourself in this way so that we can each begin to sense our individual suffering.  So that we can start to understand the depth of pain caused by our feeling of not-enoughness, and so that we can turn to ourselves mindfully with kindness. Self-compassion is not a superficial dismissal of your pain or a "think positive" kind of attitude.   It's an intentional recognition of your suffering.  It's seeing the hurt and choosing to turn towards yourself in this moment- instead of away.  Self-compassion is learning how to listen for both the inner critic and inner soother and choosing to befriend yourself in moments of disappointment and mistakes- rather than berate. Self-Compassion is about noticing misguided attempts to self-soothe through unhealthy behaviors and about learning gentler ways to approach ourselves instead.  A comforting comment, recognition that your worth is not dependent on achievement, or validating how difficult moments can be.  Self-compassion is about being able to fully inhabit the present moment and allowing yourself to feel what is yours to feel.  To sit with the discomfort, to take a deep breath, and to name it.

The only way that we grow is to know what's planted inside.  We must know what weeds to sort through, to treat, and to unroot.  We must make room for the flowers that are ready to bloom inside.   What I know is that sunlight is to flowers as self-compassion is to healing.