Shame On Me

“Shame- the less you talk about it, the more you have it.” -Dr. Brene Brown

Deepest apologies for missing last week. I was traveling, and then a bunch of jazz hit the fan at home with my family. Not related to the travel, but boy it sucks to be two plane flights away when one of your children has a fever of 101 and the other thinks he just lost his best friend at school. Welcome to modern motherhood.

The stuff with my older son, about his friend, hit a particularly acute chord in me. At first it was because he was acting out at school and we had no idea why, and there is no fear like fear for your child. Finally, after a few days of major drama and trauma, we find out one of his dear pals had decided to put some distance between himself and my son, in the mercurial and Darwinian way that only 10-year old boys can.

Cue clip from “The Sandlot.”

This may surprise you, but I don’t consider myself one of “those moms.” I don’t mean the moms that show up at school looking perfect in their Lulu yoga pants and Uggs, or running clothes and visor coordinated with their ponytail, walking the family dog and never spilling their adorable mug of still-hot coffee the whole 2-block walk to school. Although I’ve seen those moms from far away, when I’m peeling out of the parking lot having shoved my kids out of their booster seats 20 minutes late with no lunch or jacket when it’s pouring rain and I’m cussing out the crossing guard as I dial my cell phone with one hand and apply mascara with the other.

I mean a mom who fights for her kid; who gets up in people’s grills when I think my child is being treated unfairly or not being understood and supported as needed.

I prefer to think of myself as much more rational and fearless than I actually am, and have been known to tell myself –and my kids– that they can deal with their issues all by themselves.

I often recall –and retell– how my parents, when faced with a discrepancy between my version of events and the version told by any adult even remotely connected with said event, sided with the adult. I point to this as evidence that learning to align oneself with the authority figures in one’s life will lead to happy endings for all involved.

But then I remember the famous quote from John Wilmot: “Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children, and no theories”, and I realize I grew up in a different time. And what worked for me — even for some kids today — even what works for one of my children — may be the absolute worst direction to head with another. The world is different today, and the educational system is a prime example.

But I digress. My point is that I had to admit this week– at first grudgingly, then with increasing equanimity- that I am one of those moms. A mom who, despite feeling excruciatingly self-conscious and intimidated, speaks up and asks for help for her child when he needs it. Who speaks for him when can’t speak for himself. Who stands with him when he stands alone, and who picks him up and dusts him off when he falls.

And let me tell you, it is so much less glamorous, and so much more humiliating, than I had ever imagined.

But after viewing this talk by Dr. Brene Brown, I had a much better understanding of what self-leadership looks like through the lens of a parent-child relationship. The talk is not about parents and children, though; Dr. Brown studies vulnerability, courage, authenticity, and shame. I’d say just about everyone can relate to that.

I share this with you in hopes that it will remind you of the importance of leaning into your own discomfort as you lead yourself, give you permission to seek what you and those who depend on you need most, and help you to allow yourselves to be seen.

May you “tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.”

Lead Your Life.

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