being seen trying.

I’ve found myself reckoning with a beast for as long as I’ve had a sense of agency. Whether consciously or unconsciously, shame has been the ultimate factor in my decision-making since childhood. 

It was deeply ingrained in me. Marketed as thoughtful consideration. It’s a remarkably impactful tactic for a child who found a sense of purpose in being “good.” 

It takes more forms than one could possibly delist. But the central question it presents to me constantly is: “Why subject anyone else to my deeply flawed existence?” 

Why would I wear something that draws attention to me and subject the public to my body? 

Why am I scared to work out or sing songs in my own room?

Why am I scared to voice my thoughts or feelings about anything?

Why does asking for support feel humiliating? 

Why does sharing my accomplishments feel so haughty and imperious? 

Why am I afraid to share what’s working for me on my journey?

Why am I terrified to be seen trying?

I feel like a bad person for drawing attention to myself in any capacity. It’s made the rough seasons of my life incredibly lonely and put an unbreakable glass ceiling on how much joy I can feel during the peaceful ones. 

It’s a feeling that I’m “supposed” to be doing something. If I am relaxed, there must be something I’m missing. If there is frictionless movement, I must be making a fool of myself. 

It sounds dramatic, but these thoughts have permeated my everyday. Because shame influenced my every decision, it shaped my entire life. It is a deeply unfulfilling existence when your entire life is hallmarked by shame. 

And then I remember the ways I’ve been forced to justify my existence for forever. As a trans person, I have spent my entire transition justifying my existence to others. I have begged for basic decency in ways I would never ask from someone else. It taught me that my feelings weren’t enough to garner sympathy, and my humanness not enough to deserve respect or kindness. 

I really didn’t like my life. I didn’t like my behavior. I didn’t like the ways I was spending my time. It felt like life was passing me by, and I was just waiting for the real part to start. 

I was living a fine life on paper. I had a stable job, great friends, and more material comforts than I’d ever had before. But I hated the way I felt all the time, like I just needed to numb myself for the next few days before I could feel a modicum of relief again. 

It was in this phase of soul-crushing boredom that I began to identify my own values. I needed to define what success meant to me. I needed to figure out how to live a good, fulfilling life that wasn’t spent just wishing time away. And it was in this phase of soul-crushing boredom that I found holding myself to a perfect standard was blasphemous in the same way as idolatry. 

Shame kept me from making choices I knew were right for me. It kept me from taking opportunities and experimenting with the way I lived and presented myself. It made me assume the worst in the people around me, and by extension, made me much crueler to them. 

But these principles go directly against everything I was taught about treating other people. The ruthless judgment is how I was taught that other people would always think about me. And it made me a worse person all around. I was always taught to meet people where they’re at, to assume the best intentions, and to be kind for the sake of being kind. I never extended the same courtesy to myself, and constantly assuming the worst, most judgmental thoughts out of the people around me was a prison I kept myself in because I didn’t know anything else was possible.

Shame is the hole in the bottom of your joy bucket. It’s why you can’t stay present. It’s why you never feel satisfied. Shame keeps us from accepting kindness. Shame keeps us from meaningful contribution. Shame shields us from genuine connection. 

I am endlessly attracted to authenticity. People who live in a way that is clearly fulfilling to themselves have an aura of peace around them. Keeping their own cup full, allowing them to generously pour positivity into others without hesitation from fear of scarcity. Presenting as an imperfect human requires tremendous vulnerability, therefore making this presentation a clear display of strength. 

I value other people’s experiences so much. I love hearing about the things they are passionate about. I love seeing them do the things they love to do. I love seeing people do stuff they don’t feel the need to be the best at. I love seeing people happy. I needed to love myself enough to value my lived experience in the same way I value others’, because we all came into this world the exact same way. 

When I stopped letting shame control my every move, I found myself experiencing liberation for the very first time. I started behaving in a way that I was truly proud of. I started doing things I think are cool. I started showing up even when I didn’t feel ready to show up. And in turn, the Universe started showing me even cooler stuff, more authentic people, and more opportunities for joy than I ever would have dreamed possible. 

Shame made me feel unqualified to talk about my own experience. Shame made me feel powerless and terribly apathetic. Shame made me feel resigned to a deeply unfulfilling life and a ruthlessly cruel world. But living authentically has shown me that all of that is bullshit. 

I vow to myself to never again let my life be determined by shame. I will not allow toxic shame to be mistaken for genuine empathy or compassion, and I pray I always find the wisdom to discern between them in my reflections. I will not let my optimism be written off as naivety. I will not let my compassion be branded as foolish. 

It’s my life and I have to like it. If I don’t, then I am doing something wrong. So I won’t try to hide the most human version anymore. I won’t be shy about the ways in which I’m trying to grow. I won’t apologize for taking up space or needing attention.

I will not be ashamed to be human. I will not be afraid to be seen trying.