;)
Blog Design Eclectic Whimsy
Illustration Nicholas Wilton
Cool Signpost David Robinson
Sky paper Weeds & Wildflowers
Background paper Sande Krieger
OK. I have an advance copy. I cheated. All I can say is, "I heart Katherine Center." Just click here and pre-purchase your copy so you don't have to stand in line with all of the other people who will want to get their hands on this wise and funny book! Honesty, humor and great writing is an amazing combination.
I love Joan Chittister. I'm always searching for spiritual guidence on living a balanced life. I recently met and was inspired by a Benedictine monk. So, there you have it!
Three brothers raised singing tent revival songs hook up with their first cousin and make some serious old-school music with a very fresh sound. I'm totally addicted. iTunes shows their "influencers" as Tom Petty, Neil Young and The Allman Bros. I also hear The Call (my fav). Careful in the car with the kids (the tent rivival days are long gone). Thanks to Ash & Lauren for the recommendation.
I can't stop listening to this! Soulful and bluesy - absolutely awesome.
;)
The heart of my shame research is really about resilience. Across all of my interviews, women and men with high levels of shame resilience share four things in common - they:
1. Recognize shame and their triggers
2. Practice critical awareness
3. Reach out and share their stories
4. Speak shame
Unfortunately, no matter how much you know about shame, it can sneak up on you (trust me, I know). You can be in the middle of it without even knowing what’s happening and why. The good news is that, with enough practice, shame resilience can also sneak up on you!
Here’s my latest shame story.
For several months, my blog was featured as an example site on the Squarespace website. It was really fun because I got lots of traffic from people who wouldn’t normally search out a blog on authenticity and courage.
Earlier this summer, I got an email from a woman who liked my layout and design. I felt proud and grateful . . . until I got to this part of her email:
“I really like your blog. Its very creative and easy to read. (The snap of you and your girlfriend in the theater would be the only exception....egads. I would never add a bad photo to a blog, but I am the photographer here. ;-)”
I couldn’t believe it. I was so angry/confused/shocked. I kept reading and she went on to ask lots of questions about the design and then closed her email by explaining that she works with lots of "clueless parents" and she's going to let them know about my parenting work. WHATEVER.
I was so pissed off.
I paced back and forth in the kitchen then sat down to pound out an email.
Draft #1 included this line: “Egads. I would never put down someone’s photography, but I’m the shame researcher here.”
Draft #2 included this line: "I checked out your photography website – talking about bad photos – egads back at you!"
Mean. Nasty. I didn’t care. I also didn’t send it.
I read over my attack emails, took a deep breath then raced into the bedroom. I threw on my running shoes and a baseball hat, and hit the pavement. About one mile into my walk, I called my good friend, Laura (who also happens to appear in said theater picture).
I told her about the woman’s email and she gasped, “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. I’m not kidding. Wanna hear my two responses? I’m still trying to decide which to use.”
I recited my "kill and destroy" responses and she gasped again.
“Brené, those are really ballsy. I couldn’t do it. I’d just be really hurt and probably cry.”
Laura and I talk about heavy stuff all of the time. We have a very comfortable rhythm. We can ping all over the place or both get really quiet. We’re always saying things like, “OK, hang with me. Does this make sense? NO. NO. Wait. Here it is.”
At this point in our conversation, I said, “Don’t say anything. I need to think about what you just said.”
For 2 or 3 minutes the only sound was my sweaty panting.
Finally, I said, “You would get your feelings hurt and cry? That’s ballsy for me.” Laura asked, “What do you mean?”
“Mean and nasty is my default setting. It doesn’t take courage for me to be shaming back. I can use my super powers for evil in a split second. Letting myself feel hurt – that’s a totally different story. Your default is my courage.”
Laura said her courage is more comfort with confrontation and I said my courage is more comfort with acknowledging hurt.
One woman's ballsy is another woman's dangerous default. Either way, we both agreed that cruelty is never brave - it's mostly cheap and easy (especially in today's culture).
After talking for another mile or so, Laura asked, “OK, then, what would be the courageous thing for you to do with this email?”
I fought back tears. “Be hurt. Cry. Tell you about it. Let it go. Delete the email. Don’t even respond.”
Laura was quiet, then said, “Oh my God. That’s shame resilience right?” I snapped back, “Huh? What do you mean?” Laura patiently said, “Shame resilience – you know – your book? Name it, talk about it, share it . . . your book. The blue one."
We both started laughing. I thought to myself, “Holy shit. It works.”
A week later I was standing in front of students talking about shame resilience and one of the students asked for an example. I decided to tell the “egads” story. It’s such a great example of how shame can happen at a totally unconscious level and how important it is to name it and talk about it.
I set up the story by describing my blog and my new commitment to learn photography. I told them that I felt vulnerable about sharing my pictures and I felt ashamed and belittled when I received this critical email.
When I told them about my deep desire to respond with cruelty, several of the students buried their heads in their hands and others just looked away. I’m sure some were disappointed by my lack of enlightenment. Others looked plain scared.
One student raised his hand and said, “Can I ask a question?” He continued, “I hear you saying it was about your photography, but was that really the vulnerability? Did the shame come from feeling like you were being criticized for a bad picture, or were you ashamed because you’re allowing yourself to be vulnerable and open rather than closed and protected, and someone hurt you? Was it really about letting yourself be open to connection and getting hurt?”
My mouth got dry. I started sweating. I rubbed my face (clinical sign of stress) then looked straight at the 62 students. “Oh my God. That’s exactly what happened. I didn’t know it until this minute, but that’s what happened. That’s exactly what happened.”
A couple of the students glared at their brave colleague like, “Way to go. You traumatized her.”
But I didn’t feel traumatized. Or found out. Or exposed. I felt liberated. Students looking for the all-knowing, never-too-flawed-or super-human teacher shouldn’t sign up for my class. I ask require students to push themselves and I work very hard to hold the space for that to happen. My students are amazing and equally capable of holding that sacred space.
Resilience is often a slow unfolding of understanding. What did that experience mean to me? What messages did that tap into? What old tapes started playing? Where is the wound?
I love the work from the Stone Center at Wellesley. In one of their articles on shame and humiliation, they talk about the Strategies of Disconnection – the most common strategies we use to deal with shame. I also talk about these strategies in my work (page 89-90 in that book I wrote and apparently need to read).
Most of us rely on one or more of these strategies to deal with shame:
1. We move away by withdrawing, hiding, silencing ourselves and secret-keeping.
2. We move toward by appeasing and pleasing.
3. We move against by using shame and aggression to fight shame and aggression.
Most of us use all of these – at different times with different folks for different reasons. I just know that becoming resilient requires us to understand how we protect ourselves and why. All of these strategies move us away from our authenticity.
Using shame to fight shame is how I armor up – it’s not me at my authentic best. Luckily, I have great friends and brave, insightful students to keep me true.
Who do you become when you’re backed into that shame corner? Who do you call to work through the mean-nasties or the cry-n-hides or the people-pleasing? How do protect yourself? What's the most courageous thing you could do for yourself?
08.7.2008 | by Brené Brown | in authenticity, shame resilience Share Article Email Article Print Article 21 Comments 
Reader Comments (21)
I so appreciate the way you model your own work here. I learn so much and I am inspired to follow my own courageous path.
Thanks, Brene.
yet when I went back & looked at the photo - all I saw was the love of two best girlfriends enjoying the moment to the fullest!!!
I didn't see a bad photo - I saw a snapshot of a legacy memory moment -
maybe I think differently .... or maybe I have lived enough years to realize the legacy memories that are fortunate enough to be captured on film are worth every single red-eye or curve or line that is captured as well -
one day - none of the "shouldisms" of what is good will matter - only the zeal of love shared in a moment between two people who love each other !!!
the shame work you began in me has lead me through so many different places and poses and purfumes - I thank you w/ my deepest gratitude !
all my best - Meg Crady
I went to a depth I hadn't know for sometime. So, I invited friends over for dinner, then painted my bedroom the next day! The friends helped as a distraction and some laughter, and while painting I was silent enough to be reminded of some truths, and who I really am. And then of course I talked to my therapist about it all on Monday! ;)
The most courageous thing I could do for myself? It's too scary to even put in print......
Great post. I always enjoy your wise words and have learned much from what I've read or listened to thus far (on your blog and the parenting CD series at least... your books are now on my list of 'things to read'). What I like best of all, however, is your authenticity. I feel like you are right here with us in the trenches, working through "stuff", being totally honest and open about your experiences good and bad, triumphs and stumbling blocks. It is a brave thing to open yourself up like this (and I guess your story about the picture perfectly captures the vulnerability of this process - you run the risk of someone's critical commentary). Isn't it true though that we all run this risk (of criticism) if we are seeking out a new path for our lives, a more authentic path that might take us somewhere that not everyone approves of/expects of us, etc? It is a tough row to hoe now matter how you slice it. Keep up the wonderful work - I can't wait to hear more. Your posts are a bright spot (not to mention an inspiration) as I move through a difficult period in my life. Thank you so much for sharing.
-sarah
A recent courageous moment (that I'm super proud of) happened a few months ago. A friend of mine was feeling insecure about the various beliefs in our little church group. She and her husband initiated a group discussion on belief statements. I was so freaked out b/c I really didn't want to share my true beliefs ... I didn't think my beliefs would be accepted. But I didn't want to lie. And I couldn't see myself just not sharing. I was so stressed going into this discussion. Well the discussion happened. I was honest and held some, but just a little back.
My friend and I continued the conversation later, I was hurt, there were tears (maybe she was too). I obsessed for days. Lots of crying and talking with my mom, my husband and a few close friends. The discussion between my friend and I continued for days via email. I was feeling more and more overwhelmed and uncomfortable by the conversation. Backed into a corner I didn't want to be in. But I'd always been taught to work things out (at all cost). I was scared I'd be a failure if I didn't find a way to make her and me happy.
There was a glimmer in the back recesses of my mind that said I could just ask my friend if we could not talk about this anymore. I was scared shitless to to this. I ran it past my mom and my husband and another family member. They all agreed it would be okay to end the conversation. After all, I couldn't give my friend what she wanted. My beliefs are my beliefs, they won't just change to match hers, as much as I wanted them to, if for no other reason, to end the confrontation. So I took a deep breath, and I asked her to not talk to me about this topic anymore. I told her I was feeling very fragile where this discussion was concerned. My hands were sweating, I was shaking, my mind swirling. And then I braced myself for a backlash. Guess what!!???!!! None came. She said she'd respect my wishes. End of story.
A few days later, I went and told her how much I appreciated her response. How I'd never before set up boundaries around a conversation. How I was terrified she'd hate me. How she'd given me a gift in this opportunity to respond courageously.
Now ... not everything with this relationship is nicey, nice. Our relationship has changed. It's hard to be together and feel comfortable, knowing our beliefs are somewhat different. I'm okay with our beliefs being different, but I worry about what she think of me and that for her my beliefs probably aren't okay. And that still hurts. But she's totally respecting my no. I wish it wasn't weird when we're together. But it is.
It took a ton of courage for me to say something that probably wouldn't be pleasing to her. Something that would change our relationship in a way that might not be repairable. But if I'd said what she wanted to hear, the relationship wouldn't have been authentic anyway.
There's my story of courage (and shame).
Lee
I read this last night and decided to be vulnerable with the person who I have no reason to worry about feeling vulnerable with- my husband. Sometimes I'm so involved in the life I live in my head that it becomes scary to share some of it with him. It was a little less scary knowing that others are out there being vulnerable with me.
When I first go there I retreat. I blame me. I focus the conflict or the question on the error of my ways, and it feeds my insecurity monsters. I cry because I feel bad about me.
Then, when I've had enough and I feel like I've been the punching bag for other people and their issues for too long I lash out. I fight, I kick, I scream, I claw. And I still cry, though at this point it's invariably out of anger. Anger that I feel wronged, and anger that I've allowed shame to make me think that everything that is broken is my fault.
Then when I've calmed down I go apologize to the people who suffered the wrath- even when they probably deserved at least a little piece of it.
And no, these things don't happen often. But when they do it's really, really awful.
One of my big projects this year has been breaking this cycle when it starts. I'm learning to stop and ask myself what I'm feeling at a given time. Once I establish what I'm feeling, I get to establish if it is true (subjective) or factual (objective). Then, and only then, do I get to start figuring out how to manage it. But it really does help to be able to pause and realize I'm feeling shame or feeling put-upon, to figure out if it's perception or reality, and then decide what to do with it.
And the most courageous thing I can do for myself? I probably need a new answer to this question. About 2 months ago I realized that no matter how scary it was that I needed to let people around me know that I was really, really struggling with how much my career had managed to take over (take away) my life. And you know what? No one has said anything bad about me for my candor. I've actually found a great support network of friends who are very much in my corner as I try to reset my life- and who keep me accountable for doing that.
It makes me wish I would have spoken up a year ago.
As for my own shame - I withdraw, I hide, I bury my face in the sand. I work everyday to confront myself and my fears. Some days are better than others.
I'm slowly learning to be more authentic and more transparent. To say one of the most courageous sentences in the world - "I feel ___________" It's hard. And I so get the wash of shame that comes when you put yourself out there - transparent and vulnerable - and then get a reaction that feels critical or less than understanding.
Learning who I can depend on when that happens - and being brave enough to carry on the dialogue - has been a major part of my journey over the last couple of years. For the first time in my life - I feel like I have a small group of folks that will be empathic and honest and vulnerable with me - and those people are invaluable friends. If I could grant a wish - it would be that everyone have at least one person like that in their life.
Brene - Thank you for sharing your stories for all of us. Your real life example brings the work you do to life and helps everyone that reads it integrate it a little more deeply into their souls.
P.S. That "egads" picture inspired me to take one just like it when I went to the same movie with my husband. And I posted mine too!
This will be a life long battle for me I am thinking.Shame was the center of life in my family of origin. Especially around sexuality and reproduction.
Perhaps I could stop buying into what people are saying in this big giant Catholic family of mine where everything gets discussed (without your presence) at the kitchen table. A full on search for the biggest sinner that can be torn to shreds by their own version of reality.
I guess at 34 I could admit to this family my full support and admiration of the fact women no longer have to have as many babies as chance gives them. I guess I could admit that we also go to the local Methodist Church and I am a regular at the weekly sit at the Dharma center and that Mass just doesn't do it for me.
If I could do that, than perhaps I could let my husband's guilt trip roll off my back when I take off for a long hike because I leave him home alone. I am not blaming him, I have conditioned him through many years of him witnessing my own guilt parties and inviting him to join in the judgment when I act anything less than mommy martyr. OK I am not making sense here, I just really get what you are talking about here.
However that leaves the third... moving against... which I use with those who are the closest to me. Part of it is because I feel secure and comfortable with their relationship. They are not going to leave me whether it be my mom, husband, or friends.
Another reason I use aggression with these same people is often because I have felted shamed in a different context with others I am not comfortable with. I then hold it in. When I get home and the first little thing goes wrong I verbally throw up all the shame I was holding on to on my husband.
I really appreciate this post! After my hard last 2 weeks filled with magnified shame, I pulled your book back out. I knew I needed to reread about becoming more resilient. It was incredible that this was the same timimg of your post.
Good for you to post a fun photo! I too love photography and have gone "out there" and taken risks. I also know that to capture some of the fun moments in life, I have to let go of the need for showy photographs, not all situations and scenes allow for such control. To take a photo of you and your friend having a girly outing is just wonderful! You just enjoy the memory and the photo!
I personally am a bit more put off by the commentor's statement of working with "clueless" parents. Maybe some are clueless, but for the most part, we all do the best we can and many parents need a bit of insight and direction from those kind and giving enough to share! Everyone comes from a different place and to jump on the label "clueless" is a bit unfair.
Ouch! but liberating! yes!
It always amazes me how, when we ask ourself what really hurts, and we open our hearts for that answer, it hurts! but it is so much more! The answer opens you up, make you feel even more vulnerable, but if you move past the shame, the answer 'comforts' you. Or is it the fact that you know the answer is the truth, that comforts? that you can be honest with yourself...?
We were in Canada recently and walked up the Icefields, I was really out of breath and had to stop along the way to breath...on my way down I told my husband I'm SO ashamed of being so unfit...which made me ask why does being unfit make me feel ashamed, which led to because I'm young and can do anything...which led to I'm not living my life to the fullest...which made me feel ashamed.
I think when we are vulnerable, breaking the questions up into smaller ones, we get to the core...which can be hard, but always needed.
breathing out... i love myself! I am enough. I love myself! :-) xx