Day 2: The Walk of Shame
Woke up surprisingly excited to talk about shame - specifically, “The Walk of Shame”. Oh the irony.
First of all, I am astonished at how easily and how freely my shame narratives all want top billing. “Talk about me”, “Speak about me” they seem to scream at me, as if once spoken, they will be free to float away on the incoming breeze. wow.
What does shame have to say today?
When I was young, living on my own in a city where nobody knew me, it was so easy to let my rebellious 16yr old inner self run wild. And run wild she did. To back up a bit, what I am about to share will either immediately cause you to judge me or hold empathy for me.
I was that girl. I was the drunk girl, who, when not in a “relationship” would pretty much go home with the first guy who showed me any level of attention. I went home with and had many come home with me for a “roll in the hay” so to speak. When I was drinking, as it goes, my inhibitions were at a zero point, and I was up for anything. How I never got pregnant is still a mystery to me. In my recollection, it “should” have happened dozens of times. Or worse. But nothing horrific ever happened to me.
I was that girl, come 5-6am would slowly pull off the covers, slink out of bed and look for my clothes in the dark. I am sure I have left pieces of me everywhere. And I would quietly make my way to the front door, hold it gently, as to not make too much noise and slither out into the morning light. Tail between my legs, sometimes, eye squinting, I managed to orient myself to where I was, and more importantly, where the hell my car was parked to make the fastest get away as possible.
And other times, I would emerge and realize I had no idea where I was. Scary right? I would have to walk for blocks or find the nearest public transportation and navigate my way home. Head hung in shame most times, I vowed to never let that happen again. And it always happened again, suppressing the self betrayal all the deeper into my being. Into my cells, and tissues, with the simple thought. “You’re such a slut.”
That was a term I was used to hearing not only from people who knew my dirty little secrets, but family members throughout my high school days. I was numb to the term, and I guess I still am. I often thought of Mary Magdalene and how she might have felt and dealt with her own shame - if she had any.
Today, the walk of shame is fresh in my mind - as if I just did one this morning. And I also don’t feel it swirling in my body like it used to, making me nauseous, feeling dirty and ashamed. Nice girls didn’t do those things. Catholic girls didn’t do those things. Good girls didn’t do those things.
Turns out, “nice, catholic and good” are not words I use to describe myself today anyway. Today, I am brave, wild, free and unapologetic about my life - I will do what I want, when I want, with this body of mine because I belong to me - I am sovereign - I am me.
Day 2 - Reframe - Rewrite
Now for a little reframe and rewrite about my walks of shame - reframing them into Walks of Joy!
What if shame was my best friend - not my enemy?
What if shame was the only part of me that was there for me during all those moments, all those walks, all those tears when no one else was?
What if my shame appeared to teach me the lesson of self love?
What if self love was at the core of why I chose to behave the way I did?
What if self-trust was the golden nugget that has come from this transformation?
And so it is. Self-trust, self-love is a direct by-product of looking your shame in the eye, acknowledging it, appreciating it and allowing it to be there. I needed to feel worthy. I needed to feel needed. I needed so desperately for someone to see me, to like me, to approve of me. I was constantly looking outside myself to find the love I so deeply needed.
When I discovered this truth, it all became a new narrative - almost immediately. Shame is there to wake me up - to get really curious about why she’s there. Shame feels like crap. And through my own transformation, I have come to love the shame parts of me - to trust that when I was feeling shame, hanging my head and sobbing in shame, it was my inner knowing, holding me, caressing me, speaking softly, “I love you. “I love you”.
I finally heard her voice. This new version of me no longer requires or seeks approval from anyone. Not a single other human being on this planet. This new version of me would like to remember that on some of those walks of shame, I actually felt more alive than I ever had. On those walks, I probably passed by many other miracles and happy moments, and I choose to be kinder to that old version of me. To forgive her, if thats what she desires.
And what I believe she really needs is for me to give up living in the shame filled past parts of my memory - and build a new story of desire, freedom, vulnerability and trust. I love you! I love you!
AND…What if… what if … these were my walks of JOY because of the pleasure and satisfaction I received from being intimate with another human being? Imagine that twist?! Walk of Shame feels so heavy. And so, because I get to do this - I get to rewrite my story about my sexuality - it feels lighter to say My Walk of Joy. No way would I have been able to say that back then - because shame was all I knew. I had been seeking pleasure and approval and being liked from something OUTSIDE of my being, as I was conditioned to do. And now that I know about self nurturing, self replenishment - I fill my own cup when I feel anything heavy coming on. That is my internal cue, my intuition, my souls speaking to me through my body. Instead of needing and seeking, I am holding and feeling.
Our Shame is here to tell you a story and supports us in writing a new one. Shame comes in many ways to teach us just how incredibly worthy we are - simply by existing. Shame no longer controls my life, my relationships or how I show up. Shame and I will always be good friends, but for now, at least, I am taking the path less traveled. The one where shame is a memory. Join my workshop Oct 28-Nov 1 to get deeper insights about how shame is blocking you from fully, wholehearted living authentically. www.donnianastasia.com/5dayworkshop
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