“It’s not my fault and I’m not responsible.”
I find myself repeating these words over and over to myself today. This week has been one that has dredged up a lot of feelings of shame and guilt – in ways that I thought I had healed. It wasn’t even specifically one thing but more that I felt like I hadn’t shown up as my best self. I was fighting off some sort of virus and was extra tired and grumpy. Mostly, I went into survival mode and just stayed away from as many people as possible. I did the minimum of what I HAD to get done for work and just let the rest fall by the wayside. It turns out, even the bare minimum was too much for me this week. I lost my patience. I felt angry and overwhelmed and like I had to shoulder more than I had the capacity for. It was a perfect recipe for a “shame shit storm” as Brene Brown would call it.
What felt worse though is that it truly was the best I had to offer. I took no solace in that fact and the parts of me that still struggle with perfectionism and guilt almost took over. I haven’t been that close to a full-blown breakdown in a long, long, long time. What I will say though is that in those moments, I still chose to practice radical welcome and grace with myself. That is something I’ve been practicing for years now but it still rarely comes naturally to me. I can honestly say that I am so proud of the woman I’ve become and the imperfect way I continue to show up for myself without fail.
All the same, the shame hangover was real. For me, it’s like when you’re a child and you’ve done something that you know will get you into trouble and you’re just waiting to be found out. It feels like a pit in my stomach or like the world is about to end. I’ve learned to just sit in this feeling without giving it any more power than it deserves (which is none in my opinion), but to say it’s uncomfortable is an understatement. It’s honesty miserable. Shame is definitely one of my least favorite emotions and also one that I feel often.
It took me some time this week but eventually I turned toward the shame rather than away from it. I talked to the parts of me that felt like it was unbearable. I asked them what they needed. Then I sat and waited for the answer. What I discovered was quite surprising. I always feel that way when I actually slow down and stop trying to distract myself from the things that are coming up for me. The answer I heard was that some part of me always feels like I’m at fault for anything that goes wrong and that it’s my responsibility to make sure things go right… in my life but also in my family’s lives, my employee’s lives, for anyone I love or care about, or even a stranger I just randomly interact with. There’s some part of me that always feels like I need to be the one to get it right. Other people can make mistakes, just not me. It’s no wonder I’ve felt bad and wrong for my entire life. To shoulder every fault and feel responsible for making sure things always work out is an impossible task. It’s impossible for any human, not just me.
As I write this, I’m a little bit embarrassed. What I just described seems so obviously like perfectionism but at the time, it felt different. It was sneaky. I thought I had healed (or at least had come a long way from) the many parts of me that wanted to do things perfectly. I honestly don’t want to do it perfectly anymore, at least not consciously. What I really want is to have more grace and more resilience. I want to show more compassion to myself… and to others. I want to practice radical love with myself especially when I feel I deserve it the least. What’s surprising is that when I actually do those things, it makes me feel seen… and to feel seen is one of my greatest love languages. It’s wild that I always have the power to act in a way that makes me feel truly seen and yet, I don’t always gift this to myself.
All of this is to say, the simple phrase “it’s not my fault and it’s not my responsibility“ feels like it has the power to change my life. It’s love’s reminder that I was never meant to carry the weight that I try to pick up each and every day. It’s freedom. It breaks the chains of shame and gives me a sword to fight back with.
I don’t know how old I was when I first took on that belief but it seems like I must have been a small child. When I really listen, the part of me that comes up when I experience shame and guilt feels like a little girl who is just scared and sad and wants someone to tell her how good she really is. That little part of me just wants to know that she’s not doing it wrong, that all the emotions she feels from those around her – all the anger, all the instability – are not hers to shoulder. That little part of me deserves to feel safe and protected and unconditionally loved.
So that’s what I’m telling her.
I need to hear this now more than ever. I can’t re-live the past or change how I felt as a little girl but I can with absolute certainty reassure myself of some things now – like how unquestionably loved and trustworthy I am. That I am protected and safe. I can make sure that I NEVER treat myself with disrespect or belittlement. I can be the love and reassurance that I so desperately craved as a little girl.
I can remind myself over and over again until it’s second nature to believe it…
It’s not my fault and it’s not my responsibility.
It’s not my fault and it’s not my responsibility.
It’s not my fault and it’s not my responsibility.