Write about your most embarrassing moment
In looking at this prompt, I have an inkling that the other writers may detail falls down the stairs, or accidents in public; leaving the restroom with toilet paper attached to their shoe or getting home from the grocery store without the one thing they went for in the first place.
I spent a few hours thinking back on my life, trying to decide what my most embarrassing moment actually is. I think we each define embarrassment differently, and it is our definition itself which makes the event in question something we are confident in, something we feel indifferent by, or something that mortifies us.
I find humiliation not in any one moment, but in a pattern I’ve formed, in extra-personal relationships I’ve experienced over the last many years. Too many fateful instances of the past have caused for trusting behavior to be something I am entirely too afraid to partake in, something I don’t always believe in, something that terrifies me beyond spiders or broken bones or the idea of the future.
For a long time, the most important people in my life made the concept of trust challenging at best and impossible at worst. In a way that knee surgery left me with a scar in 2001, those harsh memories often cause me to put up walls or push away people who love me, even without having any reason of why.
With friends, with family, and in relationships, I’m guilty of censoring my thoughts and my behavior, of not giving anyone else the permission of trust or myself the ability to be vulnerable outside of my heart and my mind. Those moments, those people who I have struggling to let in, they embarrass me. They make me look back with regret, wondering what life would be like or who I would’ve become had I trusted others easier, had I allowed great moments of love or hurt to impact me.
This prompt has made me want to apologize – not to them, necessarily, although I’m more than sure that my behavior over the last decade has hurt others too – but to myself. Trust is still horrifying, but through time, I’ve realized that it might not actually break me.
Amanda Kasper is a writer, reader, quote lover, CASA advocate, and non-profit believer, seeking space as a lifelong learner, passionate lover, and irreplaceable friend. Amanda tweets at @AKasper513 and blogs over at “& this I believe”