Shame Over Pie

[Prereq for this story is me entering my well-liked pecan pie into our department wide “recipe contest”. There were 15 total entries and my pie didn’t win anything. I struggled immediately after the announcements with the public humiliation I was feeling and shame over feeling that way. It must have shown because the head judge came over to personally tell me how much he appreciated my entry being “Reduced Sugar”.]

Chest pounding, ears ringing with bloodflow, eyes watering I held on for the last award announcement. Who knew a simple contest would be so important? Doubt was taking a hold, even as my chances of winning seemed to increase – that insidious feeling of utter shame. “What are you even doing here, you blethering little idiot! You submitted a poor example of work and just expected your huge reputation to carry you through and save your skin!”
Shame over a pie.
Shame over not only the pie but my abilities, my choices and my entire history/experience with baking.

Shame over being seen – being present in that room.

Shame over my bodily functions, things beyond my control.

Am I blinking too much? I need to unfold my hands – it’s making me look defensive, and drawing attention to my stomach (I feel fat). Did I already look at her too much? Wait, look at the floor – that’s safe. No, that looks childish – look at the dishes on the table. Try to look introspectively at them. DANG IT! Stop blinking so much – you look like you’re about to cry over the cucumbers!
Can’t you just me a normal girl for once?! 

You don’t fit in this room, so young and insecure. 

You need pats on your back about your half ***ed little pie and everyone knows it. Now they feel sorry for you…

So I walked in the room proud with my head held high, and I nearly crawled out feeling shamed and defeated, practically in tears and shaking.

I’m sitting here thinking about this near-meltdown over this pie, in a contest that I didn’t think meant that much to me. Ah how wrong I can be. Through this intense waterfall of shame I’m feeling, old thoughts and memories return of my past life:

“You’re too needy.”
“I can’t give you all the ‘strokes’ you need.”

“You’re emotional: read idiotic when you’re passionate about something”

“If we can just fix these problems with you, you’ll be normal again and my life will be easier.”

“You’re neurotic.”

You’re selfish – grow up.”

“Something is wrong with you because you need a pat on the back for every little thing.”

“you’re too needy”…

I don’t remember how many of these messages I received as a child, but I sure remember getting them as a lonely, abandoned 18 year old.I got the above words and implications when all I really needed was love, affirmation, affection and someone to listen.

I rant and writhe with myself over why I can't enter a simple contest without falling apart over not winning. The answer becomes crystal clear though - I'm still searching for affirmation from people who really owe me nothing.

I'm still a mess. Always will be, but maybe I need to settle down and become more aware of my motivations again.

Had I done so I think I’d have caught this beforehand. Self-awareness is a beast of a battle sometimes…

The take home message for me today was that of shock though. Emotional abuse takes a lot of work to reverse and heal from. Avoid it at all costs.