Regret is a cousin of shame. Both can be destructive.
An early lesson
I grew up in Lancashire, the county of the red rose in the North-West of England. At school, in a small town called Kirkham, I had a superb chemistry teacher.
Dr “Doc” Hall was the kind of guy who always had your back but let you know when you stepped out of line.
The kind of man young men need.
I remember crossing the line once. I was messing around with a Bunsen burner. I set some cardboard on fire in the classroom. It was dangerous. I knew better.
Doc Hall saw what I’d done and asked “Why did you do that?” He was angry - I was in no doubt that I’d crossed a boundary - but not raging. Clean anger, in control, just saying what needed to be said.
I made up a story. It didn’t really matter what it was.
He nodded and said “Ok. I can see that. But that’s a reason. It’s not an excuse.”
Being kind to yourself
It took me years and some deep work on my shadows to really understand what that meant and how to use it.
We all have shadows. They are the parts of us that we hide, repress and deny.
When we hide things it’s often because of regret, or its destructive cousin shame. I beat myself up for decisions I took or ways I behaved in the past. As far back as childhood. As recently as this week.
Shame can play a useful role but often it doesn’t. It can easily send me into a spiral of self-loathing and anxiety.
My therapist shifted my mindset on shame in a big way, with a simple statement:
Remember, you make the best decision you’re capable of making at that moment in time
This is about being kind to yourself. We all make many decisions every day. Some of those decisions are things we regret.
How often have you said “Why the hell did I do that?”
For me, it’s often around eating. I have challenges with food addiction and binge eating. There are times I’ve secretly bought stacks of chocolate and eaten them furtively, hiding in my car and disposing of the rubbish. It’s one of the ways I numb out to avoid painful feelings.
I know it’s not good for me. I don’t even enjoy it much in the moment. But something within me compels me to do it and - in that moment - I’m not capable of stopping myself.
The same thing plays out if I lose my temper with my kids, or run away from an argument. Even something as normal as procrastinating instead of doing the work I’d planned.
All these things can send me to shame if I’m not careful.
I can avoid this by remembering that I am, in that moment, the culmination of all my life’s experiences. Some of those experiences have left scars. Some led me to adopt behaviour patterns that I needed to survive. My binge eating is a dysfunctional approach to self-love, a way of filling the gap left by the love I wasn’t getting as a little boy.
All of these experiences add up to me - who I am in this moment, and the decisions I’m capable of making. Sometimes I make decisions that don’t serve me because of those behaviour patterns.
Those behaviour patterns are not my fault. There was a time in the past when I needed them to survive. I don’t need them now but they are still there.
The power of being kind to myself is that it lets me drop the shame around those shadow behaviours that I’m embarrassed about. By getting past shame I can talk about my shadows. Bring them out into the light.
Shadows don’t like the light.
Let the walls crack, ‘cause it lets the light in (P!nk)
A reason, not an excuse
I believe it’s important to be kind to yourself. There’s no benefit in getting stuck in a doom spiral of shame.
Yes, and…
…it can go too far. It can become an excuse, not just a reason.
When I say “It’s not my fault I binge eat” I risk giving myself permission to keep doing it. A free pass to avoid responsibility.
That doesn’t serve me. In a way I’m falling into a drama triangle relationship with myself, acting as both Victim and Rescuer.
To get past that I need to add a second sentence.
“It’s not my fault I binge eat. It is my responsibility to stop.”
There are good reasons I’m driven to these behaviours. But, as an adult, I also need to take responsibility for the choices I make now. I know that eating in that way is destructive to both my mental and physical health. I don’t want to do it.
It doesn’t serve me to make excuses for my choices now.
I’ve managed to get it under control. I’ve been “clean” of my food addiction for a year now. I’m 20kgs lighter as a result. More importantly, I’m no longer carrying the heavy weight of shame around.
It is my responsibility to do the work I need to do to get clear with myself and be capable of making better decisions.
That work is often difficult. I’m fighting behaviours that I learnt 30+ years ago.
Yes it’s hard. But that’s a reason, not an excuse.
Deri.