Kristin Shaw is a marketing manager by day, writer by night, the wife of a native Texan, and mother of a 7th-generation mini-Texan. She’s the author of blog Two Cannoli (www.twocannoli.com) and writes for the Huffington Post. You can find her on Twitter at @AustinKVS and on facebook.
When I was 5 or 6, my mom bought me a new nightgown. It was blue with a red gingham ruffle at the hem, and on the front was an illustration of a little girl in a big Sunday hat, with swirly script across the top that read: I just know somebody loves me.
When I received the nightgown, it was down to the floor, like a little-girl ballgown. By the time I got rid of it, it was inches above my knees; that thin piece of fabric was well-loved. In fact, one of my most vivid childhood memories was on that hot summer day in 1977 when Elvis died, and I remember reading the headlines on my aunt’s TV, wearing that nightgown.
Eventually, I grew out of it, and I remember being sad that it no longer fit. It was time for me to move on from that particular article of clothing, just as it was for me to move on to another point in my life. So I carefully and lovingly packed it up, and my mother gave it away.
Like that nightgown, there have been habits I have grown out of and boxed up to put away, and others I am in the process of outgrowing now.
In my own way, I have given away Shame.
In facing an assault, domestic violence, and abuse, and sharing it with others, I no longer carry shame. Those who attacked me no longer have any power over me if I say it publicly, and share it out loud.
Shame is a tough one to outgrow, but by finding our voice, telling the truth, and speaking up, shame becomes smaller and smaller until it eventually…
disappears.
If I sit quietly and try on shame, like a worn-out jacket, it is tight and stretches across my shoulders. Shrugging it off feels good. It feels right.
I am working to give away Blame.
Learning how to say, “you’re right” and “I’m sorry” is not an admission of weakness. It is a show of strength and humility. I haven’t completely outgrown Blame, as it’s not always easy to take responsibility when I want to give it away; it is half-buried in the sand.
The hardest one to shake, and the one I’m still holding onto is Fear.
Having a child has given me a whole new set of fears. Is he safe?Am I doing the right thing? What if I do it all wrong? There are so many things I could worry about, and not all of them are things I should worry about.
I want my son to grow up strong and brave, and less fearful than I. I want him to believe in himself and try new things and love with abandon.
I don’t want my son to inherit my fears, and I put on the bravest face I can. Every stick looks like an object on which he could impale himself. Visions of x-rays of objects stuck in eye sockets flash in my head when he wants to carry my key ring around. A grape looks like a choking hazard. Every day, I try to do a little better.
Over time, I hope to try on Fear and find that it no longer fits; that I no longer need it in my life. And, like that nightgown so many years ago, I’ll be glad to box it up and give it away.
But hopefully, not to my son.
Will we ever outgrow fear for our children? I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s like an innate mother thing, isn’t it? We have to handle the push and pull of wanting them to experience life fully, but without all the crap that comes with it. Sigh.
I think you’re right, unfortunately – I may never outgrow the fear, but I hope that I can manage it better… someday.
I feel like I just read that straight out of my own heart.
Beautiful, Kristin.
<3
Will we ever outgrow fear? I don’t know…it seems to come with the territory as a mom, no matter how old our kids are. Hopefully it will lessen a bit as they grow, though…although, I think we may just find new fears. Wonderful post, Kristin.
Just last night we went for a walk with our daughter and my own fears we paralyzing me. I can relate to this so well… being afraid of what MIGHT happen as opposed to enjoying the moment.
So beautifully written.
Wow…that’s strong but wonderfully put. You have been through so much and are coming out on top – that’s not easy but you’re doing it. For you. For your child. To be better. Shame, blame, and fear still paralyze me at times but then I look at my little ones and at Mr. Big and realize it is all going to be okay, its just going to take time.
Getting rid of shame is such a powerful thing. I have done that in my life, and it makes a huge difference. I’m still working on the fear thing. Some of my fears have morphed and changed over the years, but I look forward to a day when they no longer sit with me, whispering into the back of my mind, or seizing my heart with their cold hands.
I feel like fear is running my life. I am afraid of riding the subway, afraid of the man approaching my car even though he only wants to say that my tire looks a bit flat; check it when you get home. I am afraid for my children in more ways than I care to list. I am afraid, period. Just genuinely living with a constant fear of when’s the bad thing going to happen? It is debilitating at times. I want to free myself. I have NO idea how to free myself.
I think I’ve done pretty well to get rid of shame and blame (well, blame for myself; I still blame my mother for many things althought I rarely say it out loud) but fear? It lingers like a refusing to leave, overstaying guest who’s used all your best towels to clean up dog shit. And it’s not even your dog.
Kristin, I feel like you climbed into my head and put what you found in words. Love this. You are such a great mother, woman, writer, person. Love this!! Have a great weekend!
Beautiful, Kristin! As mommies, I don’t think we ever stop fearing for our children. It’s part of the job description.
Sigh.
I completely relate to your post!! It’s taken me a long time to let go of shame and fear, and I’m not quite there yet but I’ve come a long way! Thank you for sharing – my son is my motivation too! I always want him to know that he is valuable and that life can be an adventure!
It takes a lot of learning and growth to pass these things on. They cling to us so tightly. I’m trying desperately to move beyond similar struggles that confine me, but I don’t think I’m quite at the place you are. I’m proud of you, Kristin!
I just got off of the phone earlier with my mother and my oldest brother (who is 50, btw) had to have a small surgery this week and she told me how scared she was for him. I don’t think it ever goes away completely, us fearing what may happen to our children, but of course we cannot LIVE in fear.
And I hear you on the shame. Working on that myself. In a different way, but definitely working on it.
Beautiful words, Kristin. xo
Hi,
You write beautifully and I love and admire how honest you are. You sound like a great mum too by the way. I suffered abuse as a child and have always been aware of passing my fears, shame and hang ups on to my children. I have 3 young daughters (1, 3 & 4) so I am even more aware about my actions and lessons that I need to teach them, as without sounding like a sexist they are more vulnerable as girls. I wrote a very short post, yesterday I think (it’s being surrounded by girls that does it, I am now unsure of what day it is). I would for you to take a look http://baconrollstoplasticdolls.co.uk/blogs/2013/6/22/d2p2ddmkpe49s63vwvqx0jplxnfvm8 I would love to add you to my new page on my blog for my favourite sites and pages if you don’t mind. Kind regards
Adam
Oh, preach it. I never knew true fear until I had my daughters. You, sister, are brave. And wise, too, for being able to admit all this stuff.
It not easy, to balance safety and fear, especially as a parent. Your words express it well.
Shame and fear are harder to let go of for me, but I’ve done well with blame. I think I have …
Life is to preciously short to carry outgrown baggage.