Embarrassment

Have you ever been really embarrassed about something? I have, too many times to remember. In fact, I am still horribly embarrassed about so many things. Old pictures of myself is a good example of this. Actually, make that pictures of myself, period, but old ones are the worst. I hate looking at myself and knowing that I look absolutely ridiculous in some of those pictures makes them even harder to look at. The situation becomes much worse when I actually show people pictures of myself, especially ones of me as a child. I don't like the way I look in pictures now and I hate the way I look in old pictures. Every time I pull out old photo albums there is this horrible sense of dread that comes over me. I can feel the embarrassment creeping up my spine and flushing my cheeks. My automatic instinct is to leave the room where the pictures are and try as hard as I can to get away from the images, as though that will make them go away. I thought that if I showed enough people that feeling would go away and eventually I wouldn't care who saw the pictures or what I looked like in them, but that is not the case. In fact, I find that with each time I hate it worse. So, I had to finally ask myself what it was that I was so embarrassed about and I think I found some answers. I am ashamed of myself in all those pictures. Ashamed of how I looked, ashamed of the things I was wearing, ashamed of who I was and what I represented. I hate how poor I was, how I dressed, what my hair looked like (SHEEESH, that was terrible!!), hate that I was such a nerd. When I look at those pictures I remember how I felt about myself then - how unloved, unwanted, completely awkward and so sadly lacking I thought I was - and that is what I hate most of all. That is what is most embarrassing about those pictures. In some way I'm afraid that everyone who see the pictures will see all the things I do, have all the criticisms and strong dislikes about them I do, and will view me the way I view myself, and that is a terrifying thought. With that in mind, I would say, then, that it is fear rather than embarrassment that creeps up my spine and flushes my face and makes me grip the picture book with such force, reluctantly turning each page, revealing more and more of who I have been in all my "glory". It's a fear that the pictures will cause rejection or will make someone think poorly of me. It's a fear that I will have to explain myself and have to attempt to answer all the "whys" those pictures evoke. I know it sounds completely irrational and silly, especially when one is writing about it on a blog that numerous people look at, but that is the truth. It would seem that the answer would be to just stop caring about it and "move on", but I am finding that that is a whole lot easier to say than to do. Perhaps the best thing to do is deal with the ridiculous but very real fear of rejection and then move on from there to conquer the sense of embarrassment that seems to overtake me each time I encounter old pictures. Logically thinking about it, I know I can't change the pictures as I cannot change the past, but I can accept it as what was and learn to not be afraid of how that knowledge of my past may affect those in my present and future. That seems like the first step, and my, what a large, grueling one it is!