Tending the Fire - On Shifting Shame
There are these sheep who when threatened or scared, topple over and faint. It’s part of a hereditary condition.
I, my friends, am part sheep. (Sidenote: I was just informed that these hoofed fainting creatures are, in fact, goats; not sheep. Apparently I’ve been identifying with the wrong animal for years. Checks out.)
When scared, particularly when there’s blood, needles, or medical things involved, my body turns to a puddle and I faint. It is a scary experience and feels out of my control. Until recently, I would feel so much shame around my fainting tendencies. I felt like “a bad person” because I couldn’t stay strong and keep it together during those instances. Over the last few years I’ve been on a journey of radical self-acceptance, learning to love and embrace *all* the parts of me, even/especially the ones I’m not always proud of. Let’s rewind to see when the shame started to shift around my fainting goat-not-sheep tendencies.
Keegan (my hubs) and I had been dating for a few months when he needed to have his wisdom teeth removed. On the day of surgery, I held it together pretty well in the office and avoided looking at his mouth when wheeling him to the car. The drive home was a few short minutes on side streets only, easy-breezy.
While stopped at a light, I made the HORRIBLE mistake of chancing a look at my dear BF. He “smiled” and ALL I SAW WAS BLOODY GAUZE LEAKING FROM HIS MOUTH. Holyshittyshitshit. The light turned green and I pushed on the gas, but it was too late: The fainting goat had arrived and I couldn’t outrun her. My ears were ringing and my vision was skewing white. I could still see, but it was as if a really bright white layer of fog had set in.
I managed to park the car and in my white-out state tried to help Keegan out of the car anyways. MISTAKE #2. As I reached in to take his arm, my legs turned to Jell-o and the world went white. I dropped to all fours. Perplexed, he got out of the car (by himself with no issue, mind you) and stood over me.
I crawled onto the grass and laid down on my belly, “I’m fine,” I grumbled to the grass. “Just got a little woozy.”
He took a step closer. “Ooww cwwee oooo” he managed to mumble through his padded mouth.
I looked up at this amazing man who was JUST OUT OF SURGERY and had his arms wide, offering to carry me into the house. “Ooww cwwee oooooo” he said again.
“Go on without me,” I baa’ed at him. “Save yourself!”
When I crawled my way through the front door a few moments later we laughed and laughed. Days, months, and years later, we laugh at this ridiculous scene in the front yard– a top tier shitshow.
Something about the absurdity of it all, coupled with Keegan’s unwavering acceptance of the situation (me + faceplant), allowed a shift to make way. This shift brought levity, humanity, and acceptance. Perhaps a new neural pathway began to develop that day? It didn’t instantly “cure” the shame nor the fainting tendencies, but it was a doorway in. And one I am incredibly grateful for. Shame compounds the essence of our challenging situation. Acceptance sets it free.
(Second Sidenote: I’m happy to report that I gave blood last week and the fainting goat was nowhere to be found (although I accept her and she is welcome anytime, which is precisely why she isn’t around). In fact, I’ve made friends with the phlebotomists at my local lab center and I actively look forward to seeing them. But that’s a different story, for a different day...)
For now, I’ll sign off with big gratitude. Gratitude to you for witnessing, and to the fainting goat for trying (albeit a bit misguided) to keep me safe.
Yours in loving ourselves from face-down in the grass,
Shannah 🤍
Nurtured Founder & Coach
Your turn! Let’s check in. The following questions are here as a way to tend your fire.
Remember, this doesn’t have to be a huge time commitment to be meaningful. If you feel called to explore these questions, don’t put them off for “later”. Instead, perhaps you set a timer for five minutes and be with them now.
What within me needs tending to today?
What is an area of myself that I feel shame around?
What would the most kind, compassionate, and loving being say about that part of me?
We all have “fainting goats”, that is, aspects of ourselves that are challenging to navigate and accept. I would name one of these aspects of myself as: ___________________ (aka what term would you use to describe your “fainting goat”?)
ONE actionable way that I could extend compassion and understanding to this part of me is: _____________________
Big bravo for taking a moment to explore, check in, & tend your own fire
If you would like to have your responses witnessed, I would be delighted to receive them! Email me anytime at shannah@gonurtured.com.
If your “fainting goat” would like some witnessing and further exploration, know that I’m here. I’m currently open for 1:1 clients and would be honored to journey alongside you. If you’re new here, let’s book a consultation and chat.
Also, we’ve been busy behind the scenes getting the Nurtured app ready in the app stores! The next cohort of Nurtured Habits on the app will likely be available in April. Yahooooooooo! Stay tuned for more fun updates about this!