I was watching one of Oprah's Super Soul Sunday episodes today. She was interviewing the author of a book entitled The Shack. (Please don't make me look up his name because his name really isn't important, unless you are into selling books.) He is just an average blue-collar guy, raised as a preacher's kid in a household of Christian missionaries, sexually molested as a boy (not by family), and ending up cheating on his wife, which brought his life into new focus. As with so many of these stories in which molestation is involved, the words "shame" and "guilt" come up often. Then Oprah said something, in corroboration with him, that hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Shame is about who we are. Guilt is about what we did."
I have been trying for years to understand why certain people hide behind a facade of their own making, to seem like "nice guys" when their actions show otherwise. Is it a lie? Self-deception? Double standard? Hypocrisy? All of the above? Or is it just a psychological self-defense mechanism to save ourselves from facing what we think is the truth about us? In light of this, I would like to amend the statement:
"Shame is about who we THINK we are. Guilt is about what we did."
Dr. Phil has had more than one show during which he confronted someone who was pretending to be someone/something that he/she wasn't. "What is it that you believe is so shameful about yourself that you feel would change the way other people see you, if they knew?" Most can't or don't answer honestly because they have spent so many years making excuses for themselves that they no longer see the forest for the trees. Self-revelation can be risky. What if I tell them the truth and they don't like me anymore? What if the life I've lived has been a lie, and I will live out my old age in emotional pain because of it? What if I find out that the people around me only love the lie that I have presented them, and not me for who I really am? The only way around it is to be flat-out honest with oneself and everyone else, but at what cost honesty? Fear tends to drive lives.
Every single human on the planet has one or more skeletons in his/her closet--things they don't want others to know for fear of being shamed by the truth. But how much more embarrassing it is to be caught lying than to be honest in the first place! Personal integrity is at stake. (The present political leader of our country right now is the Poster Child for being caught in lies, but no one seems to care. Yet, if you are an otherwise public figure, you will be fried in the Court of Public Opinion, whether or not it is deserved.)
I have my own skeletons, with one exception: with each one, there are at least two other people know about them. I have never, ever, been able to hide all of my failings but chose how to let out the information. To that degree, my confidantes respect my wishes to keep them under wraps. And none of my reasons for wanting confidence have anything to do with preserving my dignity. Mostly, it has to do with preserving the feelings of others. Or so I tell myself. Is that a self-lie? Maybe. I'm not sure. I only know that I have TRIED to live my life so as to have no regrets when the final bell tolls my demise. I've had quite a remarkable life, although there will be no monuments to my departure. I hope I have not let anyone down in an effort to hide my faults.
And so it goes. Happy Sabbath, dear readers. I didn't go to church today, due to sleep problems, but I didn't need to. My lesson for today came from Oprah!
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