A cold, clenched stomach. Darkness. A pounding heart. All you want to do is hide. You beg the eyes fixed on you to disappear but they won’t. They gape and you wonder what they must think, how they must see you. You feel worthless. Exposed. I’m talking about shame. Is there a more miserable feeling? Growing up with a seizure disorder left me with plenty of fodder for times to reflect on this feeling. Most of the time I felt normal. Included. And then suddenly, Read More
shame
The Rodeo Clown: Learning to Be Seen
“Tara, why can’t you look me in the eye?” My friend’s question sliced to the quick. We had been chatting for over forty minutes and the topic had drifted from the mundane to more personal waters. Personal makes me uncomfortable. When I know someone is peeling back layers and taking a peek underneath the mask I work so hard to keep fixed in place, the intensity of their stare is too much. I don’t want them to see the trembling mess I am. So I Read More
But I Have This Treasure
You know the feeling. A cold, clenched stomach. Darkness. A pounding heart. All you want to do is hide. You beg the eyes fixed on you to disappear but they won’t. They gape and you wonder what they must think, how they must see you. You feel worthless. Exposed. I’m talking about shame. Is there a more miserable feeling? Growing up with a seizure disorder left me with plenty of fodder for times to reflect on this feeling. Most of the time I felt normal. Read More
The Sidewalk
I did it again. After years of battling approval addiction, after years teaching others how to break free from the chains of people pleasing, I found myself right back at square one…I took on a task I wasn’t meant to take because I wanted to be the agreeable good girl. Someone asked something of me, but instead of requesting time to pray, I blurted out, “Sure! I’m happy to do it.” And now I’m resentful. The same old pattern. The same old struggle. Have you Read More
But I Have This Treasure
You know the feeling. A cold, clenched stomach. Darkness. A pounding heart. All you want to do is hide. You beg the eyes fixed on you to disappear but they won’t. They gape and you wonder what they must think, how they must see you. You feel worthless. Exposed. I’m talking about shame. Is there a more miserable feeling? Growing up with a seizure disorder left me with plenty of fodder for times to reflect on this feeling. Most of the time I felt Read More