I recently reflected on a ‘shameful’ memory that bothered me for many years. My mother and father had split up, and my mother had moved to a new apartment (they admirably agreed to share the house for six months each so we could stay at home) but I found it exceptionally sad to visit my mother in her tiny apartment.
She would invite me over for supper during the week after school and we would try and chat about life as openly and unaffected as we both weren’t by the awkward situation. But I would often make excuses not to come because I found the dingy apartment she was living in almost unbearable to endure, knowing she truly wanted to be with my brother and me at home.
As I look back now, I know I was just a young teenager with mixed emotions, and although I didn’t explain them properly to her at the time, it must’ve been heart-breaking for her, thinking her own child didn’t want to visit her.
I’ve come to terms with the shame now, accepting I was just young, and unaware of the emotions I now know to be true and can easily explain. If anything, I feel sadness for that little boy. A youngster grappling to come to terms with complex emotions.
I know how easy it is to hold shame close to me. I feel I made up with my mother many times over before she died, and I’m sure she understood anyway. But I also know making up isn’t always possible for everyone.
If you do feel shame for something like this, I hope you find a way to let it go. We all do the best we can with the tools we have at specific moments in our lives. Hindsight is unhelpful. Forgiveness for oneself, and promising to do better in future, is far more productive. Give yourself a break. I’m sure you only did your best with the tools you had.