Everyone has embarassing moments.
I know, insight of the century, right?
But it seems like we always pretend to have everything figured out, like we’ve never accidentally used the wrong soap in the dishwasher and created a bubble disaster all over the dorm communal kitchen. Oh, that was just me? Uh, move along then.
That’s my point though, we don’t own up to our embarrassments if we can help it. We cringe so hard at the memory of doing that ridiculously cheesy thing for an ex who, let’s be real, did not really earn that level of effort. We try not to think about painfully awkward things we’ve done or said; you know, the ones that pop into your head when you’re trying to fall asleep at night. We attempt to forget about those regrettable moments; there’s literally hundreds of songs about it, usually involving copious alcohol consumption (spoiler, it doesn’t work).
I think we should try leaning in to our past even if it’s embarassing. While embarassment is socially and mentally useful, we don’t have to let those mixed feelings of silliness and shame define us, or worse, keep us from doing good things in the present. Part of our story is who we used to be, and I think we can learn a lot from our former selves.
Maybe you used to be an obsessive fangirl for ~that one band~, but now you hide all their memorabilia in a box under your bed and skip those songs when they come up on shuffle. Why hide that part of your past? Just own it! It’s part of your origin story now. I, for one, am kind of jealous of the fanatics. I’ve never been that level of passionate about anything. I know a little about a lot, but I’ve never had the motivation to know everything about a single topic. I’ve never lost my shit over a season finale. I’ve never stayed up all night for an iPhone release. I’ve never memorized a set list or been overjoyed about “my team” winning a championship game. Not to imply in any way that I am somehow better than the people who have done those things, that stuff takes a lot of time, energy, and dedication. I have a few dozen causal interests but not enough dedication to call myself a fangirl of anything.
Now, there are totally still things I’ve done that I look back on with chagrin; but I don’t see the point of trying to hide them. They are ghosts, not skeletons I’ve stuffed in a closet. I have been angsty and melodramatic online. I have been wrong. I have lost arguments. I have changed my mind, and changed it again. I’ve tried out wildly different styles and personas. I stood by them at the time, so what if they aren’t “me” anymore? I have an aggressively cheerful intro video posted on a college ‘Class Of’ Facebook page somewhere. Am I going to troll back through my social media footprint to find and delete it? Nope. Because it’s a representation of who I was at the time, or more accurately, who I wanted to be. And there’s something very Zen about acknowledging what I think of as previous editions of myself, they were part of my journey to my current identity, and I am thankful for them. I am reinventing myself all the time, and that’s perfectly okay. There’s a passage from Self Reliance that I always come back to, that I think represents this idea perfectly:
“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day.”
So you’re a different person today than you were yesterday, or last week, or ten years ago; so what? In fith grade I wore unironically pink tinted eyeglasses that I KNEW were the raddest thing ever, and bless my parents for letting me make my own choices, even when they weren’t terribly sound. I changed my stance on that particular fashion statement, thankfully. I stopped seeing things through literal rose-colored lenses… and no one really cared! That’s part of growing and growing up. I would be worried if that weren’t the case, it would mean that we have done nothing that challenged our thinking or allowed room for personal growth or development. So don’t sweat it, everyone gets redfaced once in a while. But acknowledging when you were misinformed, or young and rash, or unprofessional? That’s nothing to be ashamed of.
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