"Why you always bringing up old shit?”

It’s the infamous line of every lame ass dude that doesn’t want to discuss his past indiscretions that led to the distrust and betrayal their partner is feeling. I know I’ve heard it quite a few times! In some cases, it could be a legitimate argument. How are we going to move forward if you keep bringing up the past? In some cases, it’s an attempt to avoid the past to keep from addressing it. Whether you bring it up or not, you are moving forward, but that “old shit” could be the determining factor in where you are headed.

I met with a therapist recently that felt like I was just bringing up old shit. I specifically said that I wanted to address the trauma in my past and she suggested I leave it in the past and worry more about the future. I totally disagreed. It’s the avoidance of my past that has had me traveling a path to nowhere pleasant. I need to address it.

However, I’ve heard differing professional opinions on this. Some feel like drudging up the past is an archaic method to healing from trauma, while others believe you must understand where you’ve been to truly understand where you are and where you want to go. Here is why I believe the latter.

My oldest son’s grades started to slip around middle school. I had the typical parent response of talking to him as well as his teachers about how to improve his grades. It didn’t help. By high school his grades were still pretty mediocre although he stood steadfast in his dream of becoming a medical doctor. I could see there was a disconnect but didn’t know how to get through to him. I talked to him repeatedly. I talked to his teacher. I offered to get him a tutor. I took away privileges. Nothing seemed to work.

It wasn’t until the second week of his senior year in high school that I decided to bring up some old shit.

I asked him if he remembered what he wanted to be before deciding to be a doctor. He looked like a deer in headlights. He didn’t even remember wanting to be anything before committing to being a doctor. Having that conversation with him helped him clear the fog and confidently find the path that not only led to success but, more importantly, happiness.

I recently posted in a discussion forum to talk about this decision. I didn’t offer a whole lot of detail. Just that my boyfriend died, I went to counseling, and although I want to start dating again, I still don’t want to start having sex yet. I asked for opinions on the matter.

Boy, did they have opinions! Men and women alike were totally against it. I was told everything from I was acting childish to I was mentally unstable. The sentiments didn’t do anything but confirm that this is exactly the riff raff I’m trying to avoid when I start dating. Quite frankly, I have twin toddlers at home. I’m not trying to waste my time with anything that’s not high quality. Any man that gets the time I could be giving to my kids, has to be worth it!

However, the reason I chose celibacy at age 40 is a little deeper than just waiting for Mr. Right. I uncovered it in counseling and didn’t even discuss it with her. It actually made me feel a little shameful, but this is the real reason.

My first sexual assault/encounter was at age 11. It definitely did some damage to my already fragile self-esteem and the subsequent assaults by several different people didn’t help. It distorted my views on sex tremendously.

By high school, sex and relationships had nothing to do with each other. This belief got worse as I got older. I had numerous partners and didn’t care much. Sometimes, I wished I was deserving of love like normal people but tried to settle in the acceptance that I just wasn’t. I was in relationships where I got cheated on and I was in relationships where I was the cheater. I was in relationships where we both were the cheaters. I understood that cheating was supposed to be bad but deep down I couldn’t relate to why.

I have had my feeling hurt and my heart  broken before, but I did my fair share of hurting people I claimed to love and care for. It often baffled me because men weren’t supposed to get hurt the way woman do, but apparently, they did. I watched a man I swore I was in love with cry his eyes out because I’d confessed to cheating…again. I promised I’d stop and once again, I lied.

I was about 10 years old when my mother went into rehab for her alcohol addiction. It was a 30-day in-patient program that my father paid out of pocket for. My mother’s health wasn’t in immediate danger so medical insurance wouldn’t cover it. The experience was extremely shameful. We didn’t talk about it at home with each other, and we dare not talk about it with anyone else. Even after my mother completed the program and we started going to support group meetings I was forbidden to “tell them our business” although I was dying to talk to someone about what I was going through.

The shame was instilled early. It was shameful that my mother was an alcoholic and in rehab. It was even more shameful that rehab didn’t help her at all. I believe that is why everything else in my life felt so shameful. The things that happened to me, the things I did to others, and the way I felt inside was just shameful. I looked around and just couldn’t imagine that anyone else was going through this.

I stayed ashamed of my whole life and just kept adding to the list. I was in relationships I wasn’t happy with and made decisions that I wasn’t proud of. It became a shitstorm of shame, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Realistically, I knew that sometimes people grow up with a parent battling addiction, become victims of sexual assault, or are tormented by their low self-worth. I knew that I wasn’t the only one. However, I learned that wherever they are, they should be just as ashamed of themselves as I was. That meant there was no point in looking for them, meaning there was no where for me to turn.

I know I am so late on this, but I was scrolling through YouTube and came across some Dr. Brene Brown videos. She spoke to my soul! When I realized that she researched shame, fear, and vulnerability, I just needed to know where I signed up. I knew this was what I needed. I needed to hear about how shame has shaped my life and understand it better. I needed to understand the fears and anxiety it’s induced that shows up in my present day and keeps me from showing up in my present day. And most of all, I needed to learn about vulnerability. How can I be more vulnerable? In spite of the shame and the fear – 40 years of it! – how do I open up and become vulnerable?
​
My shame is deep-rooted, ingrained, and tough as leather. It’s been cultivated and groomed to perfection. It has gotten me into and out of so many life experiences making it a permanent fixture. It feels so unique and one-of-a-kind. I’m understanding now just how common it is, and I’m learning to embrace it as part of the beauty that is…me.