Shame @ Work: Surviving My Most Embarrassing Moment
I have felt shame all my life, but only in the last several years have I understood shame. What it is and why so many of us struggle with it. Thank Brené and her TED Talk “Listening to Shame.” That talk opened my eyes to the endless cycle of suffering caused by untamed shame. Name it to tame it, she says.
To learn more, I sought out additional voices on the topic and expanded my definition of shame. “Shame is more common than we think. Self- consciousness, embarrassment, chagrin, guilt, humiliation, shyness, and mortification are all members of the shame family”, Joseph Burgo describes in his book “Shame: Free Yourself, Find Joy, and Build True Self-Esteem.” The idea of shame as a whole family of emotions resonates with me. Emotions can be so uncomfortable that we avoid certain situations or practices out of fear of being seen.
My new definition of shame is anything that makes me want to run and hide – how can I escape this situation the quickest. Shame has hit me harder and faster than a Girl Scout troop selling thin mints. There’s been no time to think and process my actions; before I know it, I’m walking away with an armful of cookies that feeds my shame and leaves me buried in crumbs.
Once I understood the breadth of shame, I saw it everywhere. Everyone suffers from shame at some point in their life, and it’s all around us in the workplace. It manifests as fear of failure, fear of being wrong, sensitivity to criticism, feelings of not belonging, imposter syndrome. And it’s also present in less obvious behavior – letting others make decisions, not asking questions or sharing ideas, not seeking the project assignment or new job. Shame can hold us back and inhibit us from having a more fulfilling career.
As I reflect on past experiences of shame at work, one incident stands out above all others. You have my permission to laugh when you read it – it’s funny. Despite it being my all-time most embarrassing moment, it was also a significant source of learning about myself, my triggers, and how to overcome shame.
Imagine the hustle and bustle of a corporate café pre-Covid. Being in a room with so many super-smart people in one place still made me feel like an imposter even after several months on the job. I had just finished a 1:1 meeting with my manager, Dave. I liked him. He was smart with a confident swagger and sly smile that implied he knew more than you thought, despite his young age.
You should know he was not a tall guy. 5’7, maybe 5’8” wearing cross-trainers. At 5’3”, I am very aware of how much vertical space people hold and like to estimate how high they can reach. (This ability comes in handy at the grocery store when I find favorite items inconveniently placed on the top shelf.)
I followed behind Dave as we exited the café, holding my laptop and swinging my right arm as I took in the surroundings, feeling the excitement and busy pace of my new environment.
All of a sudden, he stopped. Cut off by an oncoming cart.
I did not stop.
As I continued forward, right arm in full swing, my hand, in a slightly cupped position, landed perfectly on his right butt cheek. I had just grabbed my new boss’s ass.
Dave did a little jump up without missing a beat while holding both cheeks and let out an alluring “Oeooooooh.”
Is this really happening? I rapidly scanned the room and caught my reflection on a glass wall. My heart was racing, and my face had never been so red. I thought someone might call an EMT on me. I was beyond mortified.
My inner voice was killing my confidence: What did Dave think about me? Does he think I am clumsy? OMG, does he think I did it on purpose? He must regret hiring me.
Dave thought it was hilarious. At every opportunity, he enthusiastically told the story of the Great Goosing. I was stuck, with no escape. The routine continued for days; he tells the story, I turn into a tomato, people laugh.
The more people he told, the greater my shame grew. And the deeper my hiding hole became. I sat in the back of the room for meetings. I was quiet (yes, this extrovert was silenced). I even avoided the communal lunch table.
Until one day, I was having coffee with my buddy Mike. He listened empathetically as I described my ongoing embarrassment. I confessed that I could not tell Dave to stop. I was too worried about what he thought. I’m trying to impress him, not wanting him to think I was too sensitive to handle a little teasing.
Mike said, “I know how you feel.”
He then shared a time when he made a mistake and thought he was going to be fired. He recalled, “It was the day after a big presentation to my leadership staff. I was feeling great about it. Everything had gone according to plan. Then I got an email from one of the leaders on staff. She was calling out an error in the data. Immediately, it hit me that she was right. At that moment, I wanted to run and hide.”
I’ll admit, there was comfort in hearing about someone else’s big mistake. As I listened to his story, I started to have more compassion for myself.
“But I did not hide,” Mike shared. “I called up the leader and thanked her for catching my mistake. I then responded to the staff, calling out my error and providing the updated data set. My manager publicly thanked me for how I handled the mistake. Said I was a role model.”
Mike concluded by saying, “You know, you are never going to get over this. You need to face it. Own it. That’s how I managed it. It will suck the life out of you until you do it.”
Was Mike a genius or what? I had to name it and make it my own story, or I would be paying rent in Shame Town for a very long time.
The next opportunity I had, I shared the Great Goosing escapade from my perspective, including feeling mortified and embarrassed. I gave up trying to hide from it, and by speaking to it, I was able to join in the laughter. Name it to tame it.
“The less we talk about shame, the more power it has over our lives,” Dr. Brené Brown explains in her book Daring Greatly. “If we cultivate enough awareness about shame to name it and speak to it, we’ve basically cut it off at the knees.”
As the protagonist of this story, I would love to be the hero. I did overcome feelings of shame to discover the power of vulnerability and emerge with a new cloak of confidence.
But, I am not the true hero. Mike is.
He saw my suffering and reached out. He listened in a safe, judgment-free way. And he helped me see a path forward. He made me realize I was not alone, that other people make mistakes, get embarrassed, and feel shame. It’s human, and I am human. We could all be more like Mike.
Look around your workplace. If you see someone experiencing any form of shame, reach out and be that empathetic and supportive hero. If you are experiencing shame, reach out to someone. Stop being ashamed of feeling shame. Talk about it. Community is powerful.
Let’s end with a chuckle.
What do you call accidentally grabbing your boss’s butt?
-A bummer
