This Is What Alchemizing Shame Actually Looks Like

My heart dropped when I saw her kids… the perfect curls, the perfect make-up. And they entered the dance studio for the dress rehearsal just before us.

My daughters had the fresh out of the car, just-woke-up look. A little sweaty. The curls we’d spent 15 minutes on — gone. Just... gone.

I’d already said it to my husband at home while I stood there with the curling iron, trying to get the specific hairdo, make up and fake eye lashes right that were mandatory: Wow, I’m noticing so much shame coming up. About getting it right. About not being able to get it right—probably as the only one.

And the thing is, this wasn’t about self-expression or letting them have their own little look. I’m usually pretty easy about all of that. This was something different. This was the specific fear of there being a right way. And me doing it wrong.

My husband just looked at me. What are the actual consequences if the hair doesn’t look like that?

Logically, it didn’t make sense of course. But my body didn’t care.

Because it was never about the hair.

It was about a little girl who learned early that there was a right way. And that it was bad to miss it.

When I saw that, I stopped beating myself up, stopped making my feelings ridiculous.

And then I really felt her. My little girl.

Man, it must have been that intense for her when she was little. What she must have gone through.

What shifted wasn’t the shame or fear disappearing. It was finding compassion for her.

And then I looked at my daughters.

Relaxed. Excited. Completely unbothered. They weren’t carrying any of it. They didn’t even know there was something to carry.

Something quiet moved through me.

Oh. Look what didn’t get passed on.

And, well done, mama.

I hadn’t even signed up for this, just wanted them to have fun learning something new. I already tried to opt out of the recital part, but we got highly encouraged to participate.

This week turned out to be extra difficult, car troubles and so much more.

That we even made it there. That we still showed up. That we cared.

So much to celebrate. It’s Celestia’s birthday today. And she gets to be on stage. Which she loves. Happy birthday, little star.

Which shame this week did you alchemize into dearness, celebration and power?