I heard a story from a video I was watching last night about a person who was wearing a shirt that labeled them unworthy, which had been given to them by people who should have loved them.

Man, did that hit hard.

Talking around the reality of shame and its impact on my life, there is a growing understanding of some of the more insidious cracks through which it has crept in and the holes in which it gathers.

Recent weeks have given me the sense that I’ve been handed a shirt that labels me unwanted. It’s not a new shirt by any means. Over the years, I’ve tried to get rid of it. It’s stained, and dirty, and torn. But it keeps coming back from the most hurtful of places. And the people handing it to me expect me to wear it.

Each time I get that shirt back, the shame message with it tells me that if I were more willing to stay broken, then I might be able to fit in… but to do so would have me sacrificing pieces of myself on the altar of conformity instead of finding the places where the healthy, balanced person that I was created to be fits in.

I hate how much grief there is in the process of becoming… how much pain there is in the tearing down and rebuilding. But having spent the day yesterday doing hard things, having hard feelings, and sitting in discomfort, I am so thankful to see the places where I am able to be me and am welcomed, wanted, and loved.

Places where people who are also journeying toward health allow me to show up as myself, no labeled shirts required or handed out. Just love.

If you’ve been handed shirts that label you things that are keeping you stuck in shame, I’d invite you to acknowledge what those labels are. In places that are safe to do so, name the things that you have worn for too long. And allow the love of those around you to wipe out the shame that has kept you from healing.

Maybe you don’t have a healthy community in which you can be honest near you. I’ve been in that position. And just because I’m not in that same place anymore doesn’t mean you’re all alone.

Send me a message, or feel free to call. Shame thrives in isolation. Don’t let it.

I love you, friends.