Well There’s That

I was taking a writing class a few years back and the first day assignment was to greet your neighbor and ask them questions about themselves. Get to know them before sharing your memoir writing.  The lovely lady to my right started the conversation with, “Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.” It stopped me dead in my tracks.

I turned on my scanners in the hopes of finding something to satisfy this woman.  I realized I could just tell her anything and she would never know if anyone else knew it, but that would not be truthful. As I vacuumed around the corners of my being looking for morsels, I realized that I have shared (some might say over shared) everything of any import. There are probably meals I have eaten that are lost to the sands of times or movies I have watched or books that have been read, but when it comes to behaviors that many in society would find shocking, appalling, immodest, embarrassing, horrific, challenging, unattractive or just plain unimaginable I have told at least one other person and more likely ten to twenty.

There is nothing I have done about which I am ashamed.  I am sure others would like me to be, but I think it is a waste of time. If I did something that was, to quote my husband, “less than elegant” I have spent time reviewing the situation and making future decisions.  You cannot change what has already been done so what is the point of being ashamed. 

Some might call it regret, but it does not matter what you call it so why Monday Quarterback it?

I view my life and its experiences as a self-help book for others. In some instances, it is uplifting and motivational and in others a cautionary tale. There are amazing moments and “what were you thinking?!!” all mixed in together. Just like everyone else, but the difference is for whatever reason I am not embarrassed or repentant.

Are there a number of them I would choose not to do again? You bet there are but I am grateful I had the experience so I would know what not to do. I am also grateful that when someone else I meet (and they can be strangers) needs to know that others have walked down those dark corridors and found the light again, I can provide that bit of hope. Simply knowing that you are not alone when you are beating yourself up can be the best life preserver to grab onto.

The more important question is “Why should you be ashamed?” Who are you allowing to judge you in that moment? Who will no longer like you, love you, want to spend time with you? If you are afraid of the loss, then you are afraid of the consequences of your actions. Remember, they are your actions, so you made the choice and therefore the results of those choices are also yours. I learned this one at the age of 8 when I shoplifted a key chain and made up a fascinating story about how I came to possess this wonderful piece of fun. My mother listened and then said, “Where did you steal it from?” I was stunned and made a half-hearted effort to keep the story up, then folded.  She looked at me, told me we would be going back to the store where I would return it and confess and apologize. “Be sure to take money with you,” she said knowing she was truly hitting me where it hurt. After I had completed the task, she said, “There is nothing you can ever do in life that it is worth lying about. So don’t.”

All your choices have brought you to where you are in your life. If you do not like the location you have landed in, then change it. Wishing you “hadn’t” will not get you there but changing the way forward will. To quote Glinda the Good Witch, “You’ve always had the power my dear. You just had to learn it yourself.”

And in honor of Mother’s Day, Mom was right.