It’s about to get personal here. You’ve been with me for way too long. You’ve torn down my self-confidence, you’ve creeped into the narratives that I tell myself, you have kept me grounded and not in a good way, but in a self-isolating way, you’ve even made a place for yourself in my beliefs. You have long outstayed your welcome and you need to leave now.

I was listening to a podcast recently on shame and I found the hosts definition of shame interesting. Shame was defined (on this podcast at least) as wanting to receive love, affection, and affirmation from someone, but not receiving that love in the presence of others. I remember one of my earliest memories of shame creeping in was in 4th grade. A classmate had quite a hatred towards me, though I don’t recall doing anything to her to make her hate me. Anyways, she put a death threat in my desk. I came to school that day and found it on top of my books and folders. The girl who wrote it came all too perfectly at the exact moment I found it, grabbed it out of my hands and ripped it up (a tactic she employed so she wouldn’t get in trouble). I decided to try and tell the teacher what happened, but without proof she didn’t believe me. I was depressed the whole day and she noticed and asked what was wrong and I told her again what had happened. But she didn’t believe me. I wanted and needed to hear the affirmation that it wasn’t my fault. That someone was on my side and that they were going to help me when this felt like too much for me to handle on my own. My younger self was forced to ask the question “why me?” And even though I understand now that hurt people hurt people, but I still ask “why?” 4th grade me thought the teacher would at least call my parents to let them know what had happened, but since she didn’t believe me she didn’t believe there was a reason to call my parents. Shame is what kept me from telling them. Shame thrives in secrecy and self-isolation.

It’s taken me years of hard work, therapy and tears to realize that a lot of the healing process includes grieving. I’ve realized that breaking up with you will be beneficial for me. One of my favorite pump up songs “Favorite Sound” by Echosmith says “[I] shouldn’t apologize for just existing…..shouldn’t apologize for just being me…….I’m learning how to turn around all the voices in my head I think I’ve found my favorite sound.” My favorite sound is me writing you this letter. My favorite sound is me unlearning all the lies you told me, like that I was unlovable and that there must be something wrong with me. My favorite sound is me learning that I am loveable after all. I’m learning the joy of just being me. I’m learning that I was not wrong, I was was just someone who had wrong done to them and didn’t know what to do. And I will continue putting the sound of self-love on replay over and over and over until it becomes natural for me.

But shame your soundtrack is being deleted. Hasta freaking la vista. Goodbye and good riddance shame. You don’t rule anymore.

Truthfully,