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How Shame Left Me Feeling Completely Worthless and Unlovable

But here’s how I overcame those feelings in my 60s


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Laura Liedo

Welcome to Ethels Tell All, where the writers behind The Ethel newsletter share their personal stories related to the joys and challenges of aging. Come back each Wednesday for the latest piece, exclusively on AARP Members Edition.

I remember the first time I heard the words. It was a Saturday morning and Dad asked if I wanted to go with him to the bowling alley, his favorite hangout. I was probably 5 years old and, being a true mama’s girl, responded with, “No! Girls go with girls and boys go with boys.” Dad laughed, scooped me up into his arms, and proceeded to walk toward the door. I began to scream and kick for release, to my dad’s bewilderment and my mom’s frustration. He put me down, shrugged his shoulders and, with a hurt look, walked outside. My mom turned away, as if she could not bear to look at me, and delivered a condemnation that would haunt my future: “You should be ashamed.”

The scene is so burned into my memory that 60 years of excusing my tantrum as normal childish behavior has not been able to erase it. It is a reprimand many parents use to discipline children, a way to punish without inflicting physical pain.

A mere sentence that takes no effort to deliver as it can be spoken quietly to convey the optimum amount of disappointment, or angrily spit out through gritted teeth. Although physical pain is not felt, the mental anguish and sensation of guilt left in its wake can impose far worse repercussions.

Guilt and shame do not have the same meaning, although many believe they do. According to Annette Kammerer, a psychologist and professor emerita at the Institute of Psychology at Heidelberg University in Germany, guilt occurs where there is “a transgression of moral, ethical or religious norms and we criticize ourselves for it.” 

Shame, guilt’s cousin, is a response to how we view ourselves for having done the action. My mother’s way of punishing me was to shame me — not the action. I was responsible for hurting my dad and I was a bad girl. The feeling of absolute shame I felt hurt my heart much worse than any spanking would have my bottom. Each time I did wrong and was shamed, I felt worthless and unlovable.

I spent many years feeling embarrassed, for many reasons. I was ashamed of my childhood home, usually a kid’s safe and comfortable haven. My parents bought a nice house in a newer neighborhood, brimming with young families. It was of adequate size for the five of us until baby brother was born. One more meant less space and more housework. The idea of spouses sharing duties, at least in my family, was a ridiculous notion. Our house became an insurmountable disaster, so my frazzled Mom gave up. The assignment and enforcement of chores were tasks too cumbersome for her to manage. No friends came over to watch television or spend the night; the mere thought was mortifying.

Growing up in a distasteful environment propelled me to maintain a spotless room, a sanctuary to which I regularly escaped. I was guilty of not offering to help Mom more and considered myself a lazy daughter.

I was ashamed I had chosen early marriage over an education. I was the first in my family to attend college and the first to drop out, a decision that devastated my parents. My excuses for not finishing a degree were money, time and children. The real reason: I was scared I would fail, which was just too humiliating a prospect to attempt a return to school.

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I was ashamed of my somewhat boisterous personality. I have always been one who is first heard, then seen. I talk and laugh loudly. Attendance at social events would prompt my former spouse to sternly warn, “Don’t embarrass me.” I was terrified of speaking publicly and flatly refused any invitation to do so. I feared meeting new people. I rehearsed introducing myself. I was cautious, avoiding situations that placed me in a position of humiliating myself or my husband. I manifested a classic sign of one who feels constant shame: the desire to hide.

Guilt, remorse and regret — most people experience these emotions. We analyze what we did wrong, admit fault and apologize. We should be able to get past uncomfortable experiences and move on, but as a grown woman, I could not complete the process. Women are especially susceptible to feeling shame for a past over which they had no control, according to author Brené Brown, who has spoken extensively on shame, vulnerability and empathy. Talking about the shame we experience brings a sense of control that gives us the strength to overcome our feelings and move forward with our lives.

About The Ethel

The Ethel from AARP champions older women owning their age. Subscribe at aarpethel.com to smash stereotypes, celebrate life and have honest conversations about getting older.

My 40s ushered in the evolution of a new outlook. After decades of believing I had been a bad daughter, wife and mom, I made a conscious decision to be grateful for things I had done right: finally marrying a man who actually adores my loud laugh, raising children who grew up to be fine adults despite my many parental blunders, and accepting myself for who I am. I realized I was not a failure. As I aged, I became more tolerant, empathetic and less critical of myself.

Soon after entering my 50s, I made the terrifying but exciting decision to complete the education I had abandoned. Instead of beating myself up over years of procrastination, I embraced the belief that my timing was perfect. I was ready to finish what I’d started and worked hard, hoping only for a finish. My walk across that stage after three years of perfect grades became a pivotal step in my journey out of blame and shame.

In my 60s, I am still on that journey but traveling with lighter luggage because I refuse to drag along a fat suitcase of past mistakes. The younger voice inside my head that still occasionally whispers, “You should be ashamed,” has been drowned out by an older, louder and stronger one that shouts, “You should be proud!”

That voice is mine.

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