Embarrassed….

Have you ever been embarrassed by your children? Like when they act out in public in a way that brought you total embarrassment? 

Although not the first time, a recent episode had me in a tizzy. There we were, houseguests of new people in our life, trying to build community, and my kids are acting like they have no boundaries nor decorum…and certainly not raised by a therapist (and yes, I feel that pressure deeply). No matter how much I’ve drilled into them the importance of manners and politeness, including a lecture en route, it was still a cringe-worthy experience full of apologies and excuses on my children’s behalf. My kids flat out went rogue. 

And I wasn’t fooling anyone into thinking I was calm and collected, my masking only took me so far. 

You may be thinking — “they’re just kids. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think. People don’t care like you do.”

Yes to all the things.

Upon reflection I can believe that… I can believe it after time has passed and my body’s regulated. But in the moment I had absolutely no access to those healthier, true thoughts. My body overtook me, pushing me to an overwhelmed anxious state. I stayed there, with that anxious pinball-like feeling until my body shut down on the way home. I was literally depleted from the expelled energy of micromanaging the kids and overcompensating. I thought to myself that hopefully if these people liked my husband and I enough then that would offset the three gremlins. Feeling angry, exhausted, and quite honestly dumbfounded at the kids’ behavior, I made some empty threats in hopes they’d get the point. It wasn’t cool. I wanted them to badly feel convicted and remorseful…but their apologies didn’t match my body’s intense reaction. 

They triggered me, and I was putting it on them to bring me back down again. But that’s not their job even though I subconsciously assigned it to be. 

Leveling out was up to me—it can and will always be up to me. 

It can and will always be up to me. Regardless of who or what triggers me. What happened in my body signaled something was threatening; something was wrong; something wasn’t “right.” 

Externally it was me trying to hide my internal freak out. Deeper, though, my body was reminding me of decades-old personal insecurities and survival tools. Our bodies have a superpower in knowing what we’ve experienced before, and what matters to us… for better and worse. My body was trying to help me in going into that flight or fight anxious mode even though it wasn’t helpful. 

My body acted in a way I ought to be thankful for, even though it was an intense and maddening experience. My body, and YOUR body, is always trying to help, not hurt you. 

So what’s the moral of the story? You’re not alone in the embarrassment. You’re not alone in the hard moments in which your parenting effort seemingly failed. You’re not alone in the big bodily sensations, controlling thoughts and feelings. You’re not alone.