My Inner Kiddo is Shameless

My inner child has been trying to rouse me into being more shameless. She smiles at me with her hands up in the air, twirling about in the front yard in her sock slippers as she points out the butterflies. Carefree and silly, she dances to the music only she can hear. She giggles, “I’m wearing a tutu” and performs a delicate pirouette. Then she offers a mischievous wink and cheeky grin as she breaks into a sassy jazz slide. Suddenly, she’s leaping off the ground, extending her tiny arms wide as she leaves the earth. She starts showing off her ability to combine styles with a jazz pirouette. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. She spins precariously close to a nearby thorny rose bush, then fearlessly reaches in to pick up a pink petaled rose and place it in her trenza (hair braid). A shimmy of the shoulders pairs with a rhythmic shake of the hips, that she must have learned from her ancestors. She’s tiny but fierce, commanding attention here in the garden. As if to close her performance, she balances on her tippy toes very stoic like a statue, and stretches high for the sky whilst wondering out loud, “Can I reach the clouds to see how fluffy they are?”, and then lets out a full belly laugh as she falls down. Getting right back up is easy for her. Upon finding her footing again, she tilts her head and tenderly asks, “Can you read me a story?”

I love her. Her joy is infectious. I adore her flushed cheeks that match the flower in her wavy locks. I am inspired by her daring nature. This girl believes in things, even herself. Her body is free, following the routine of her own designed choreography. In every movement, even with the wobbly stumbles, she’s perfect. She’s a messy confident beautiful ball of heartfelt aliveness. 

—

At some point, I started to really care too much about what other people thought. I became smaller. I shrunk in a shadow of my worries. I was not cool enough. I was too sensitive. I was too nerdy. I was too clumsy. I was too nervous. I was too slow. I was too much.

I was too too too, lots of things.

It was not until recent years that I began to acknowledge the anxiety that had developed. With therapy and my own clinical psychology training, I slowly had this expansive realization that certain worry beliefs were steadily feeding into anxiousness and shame. The internalized stories became layers of doubt that I had to unravel. It’s an ongoing un-schooling of sorts that my brain still has to go through. I continue to challenge myself to notice when I seem to need the approval of others, instead of embracing my intuition and what feels right in my spirit. I am learning how to soften into self-trust more and more. Holding onto hopeful magical realism and taking brave action. Staying less concerned about the rigid need for control (a common sign of anxiety btw!) and easing into surrender more often. I’m experimenting with this new concept of following my own unique path, taking some lighthearted no big deal risks along the way. Leaving my “secure” job. Moving to a tiny village in Spain. Writing a fiction book for first time ever. The little inner me says: “Try out this new dance routine. It’s going to take some work but it’s going to be fun.”
___

Anxiety runs in my family so I suppose at some point younger me would have connected the dots. However, what that little girl certainly did not expect was Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. 

This untethering from shame has to include my relationship with PMDD. Whether I would like to admit it or not, I have a very unfortunate shame-y belief.

“I’m a burden.”

Sigh. Just saying it out loud feels so icky. Because rationally, it does not make sense. Yet, as a chronically ill person, this sense of being too much for others is a challenging and common phenomenon.

For those of us with disabled or frequently sick bodies, shame can build with the idea that we are “too needy”. It is connected to the acknowledgment that our needs represent an additional responsibility, especially for those who caretake or step in (sometimes in a life saving way) on our challenging days.   

Many folks with PMDD report feeling shame about the impact of their condition on their family, friends, and community. Some common reasons for and perceptions around PMDD shame include:

• Unpredictability of mood / change in emotional state
• The effects of a rage or irritability episode
• Experiencing paranoid thoughts about relationships or overthinking
• Not being consistent or reliable ‘enough’ at work or school
• Body image concerns
• Not being able to perform tasks that ‘should be easy’ or others can do
• Needing to often ask for help
• Canceling at the last minute
• Spending less time socializing with loved ones
• Sense of being sick or disabled but not sick/disabled ‘enough’
   

To all of this, I want to reiterate: PMDD is fucking hard.

To learn how to relate to these PMDD waves is an emotional intelligence in itself. It’s a profound heavy lifting practice of the heart and soul. It requires tremendous fine tuned attention and management.

Nevertheless, shame is a thing and we have to get real about it. Shame can get us really stuck, because it is a sense of being fundamentally flawed or unworthy. It's all consuming. Unlike guilt or embarrassment – which are tied to a behavior or external circumstance – the shame-ful emotional state is more about core identity and who we are as a whole person. Guilt says, “I made a mistake, and I hope to do better” or “I need to stay home from work. I feel crummy about the last minute cancellation, and appreciate you understanding this unexpected change.” Whereas, shame has us thinking things like, "I am an awful person” or “I am less valuable because I can't do what others can and I’m not dependable."

Shame can lead to a pervasive sense of inadequacy and self-loathing, impacting self-esteem and mental health. It can contribute to avoiding social interactions and feeling undeserving of support or love. Therefore, it perpetuates a cycle of isolation and despair. 

Shame is deeply rooted in oppressive ideologies and repeated harmful messaging from societal norms. Some examples you may have internalized (like me at one point): must be perfect, be liked by everyone, not make too much trouble, have it all together, rely on ourselves, meet certain expectations or productivity levels, and always be 'on'.  Systemic oppression such as ableism, racism, and patriarchy utilize shame to their advantage in order to keep us thinking we don’t have power. Elites of capitalism are also totally exploiting the emotion of shame for profit benefit (but what does the machine of capitalism not exploit, right?). Think about all the times when you were convinced you had to buy something in order to feel happier, to look better, to be more approachable, to be more marketable, to make more friends, to be more popular, to have more wealth. Imagine the instances when you worked to your full capacity and a manager said it just wasn't enough. Think about all the times when the white man billionaire run social media algorithm has you comparing your worthiness to that of others and shoves an ad every few minutes. Exhausting and demoralizing. The systems are SHAME-FULL. Shame on them.

We’re meant to be liberated beings though, loves. Do you even know how fucking beautifully powerful you are? Do you understand what would happen if you lived out loud your powerful gifts?

One of the core practices I recommend to individuals struggling with feelings of shame is self-compassion. This is the art of having honest, direct contact with vulnerable parts of yourself, and offering care to those vulnerable parts.

This is hard for lots of us. Because again somehow we have learned the misconception that honoring our true needs and offering up some authentic loving care to ourselves is a form of pity or a poor use of our time. 

I always make the suggestion of considering how you might speak with yourself as if you were a young child experiencing some hurt or tenderness.

“Your heart hurts right now. This is hard. I love you.”

Is this still tough to do? Okay, let's distance ourselves a bit.
Imagine this scenario.

You are at a youth recital, as a member in the audience. One of the youth goes up on stage and is meant to perform a solo act. They appear frozen. A wave of redness consumes their worried facial expression. Once they get a bit of grounding, they begin again but stumble a few times through their act. A sadness surfaces on their face before they head off stage.

What would you say to this youth?

Would you tell them they should have practiced more or been more prepared before getting on stage?
Would you say, “Darn, that was pretty bad”?
Would you compare their performance to that of the other kids?
Would you shake your head in disappointment?
Would you comment, “Maybe performing isn’t meant for you”?

No! ABSOLUTELY NOT. You would not. Because you’re a caring human who has probably been in a similar situation at one point in your life journey.

Depending on the age of the youth, you might share a variation of any one of these:

“You know, it’s really brave to go on stage. You did that, and that takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there.”

“I am proud of you.”

“Our brain is so weird sometimes. It works in the practice run, and then when the time comes to do the thing, why does it decide to go on vacation?”

“I’ve been there. It sucks. I understand you would have wanted it to go differently.”

“I could see how much effort and heart you put into that. That kind of thing takes so much work.”

“The most creative artists start somewhere. Then begin again and again. Creativity, the performing arts, well heck all of life(!) is really a big experiment.”

We do not shame children, because we know that causes irreparable emotional damage. We do not shame children, because we know the harmful narratives solidify into the inner stories they carry into their adulthood. We do not shame children, because we know it deters them from pursuing what truly brings them joy.

We also don’t lie to youth, do we? None of those possible responses were lies.

 Similarly, we can be compassionately honest with ourselves, especially when shit gets hard. Because can we agree going out there on this Earth stage and living in these human bodies right now during polycrises is really really objectively nerve wracking and overwhelming sometimes? So, sweet one, offer the same grace and loving understanding to yourself and to your inner kiddo. 

Can you affirm the moments when your shameless inner child wants to come out?

We could all benefit from embodying the tender, shame-less child.

• Experiment over and over again
• Rest when needed
• Cry freely
• Move body unapologetically 
• Express self in unique ways
• Seek friends to play together
• Share your radiant light and gifts now, not some day far from now
• Stay open to learning
• Name the ‘ouch’
• Look for the helpers
• Believe in things that adults have forgotten
• Ask more questions with curiosity
• Be clever and silly
• Give love and receive love
• Imagine new worlds
  
  

Connecting with our inner shameless kiddo, tween, teenager, young adult can be quite liberating. In times like these, we can benefit from acts of inner and collective liberation.

Love,

Me and my inner Little Mo 🩰🌹💃🏻

Did anything resonate or feel illuminated when reading this?
Please share! Would love to hear from you. Email me!